Seán O Muiríosa
Seán O Muiríosa Poems
|43.||Saddest City Lane||1/9/2006|
|48.||Country Essence - Haiku||4/24/2005|
|49.||Among Tall Pine Trees||6/10/2005|
|51.||A Coral Beach In Connemara||7/29/2005|
|53.||A Golden End||1/26/2005|
|54.||Cracks Of Night||3/30/2005|
|55.||The Visiting Hours||4/10/2005|
|56.||Opening Tunnel Vision||5/24/2005|
|57.||Ode To Sylvia Plath||11/24/2005|
|58.||A Journey To My Roots||4/10/2005|
Comments about Seán O Muiríosa
A Journey To My Roots
The old house stood as sturdy as ever
even as the mangled jade ivy clung and grasped
as it had for decades, but she would never be killed.
It’s not in her make-up.
A strangely small garden shook me at first
until memory kicked in removing all those fears
with its usual record of rhetoric:
I had not been here now for close on ten years...
Inside a marbled, brown chocolate fireplace greeted us.
There was some catching up
over mugs a’ tae and sweet crumbly biscuits.
A cool chill snapped at my ankles suddenly
from the deep reaches of the old ...
Blue And Gold Love Song
The wafting of the blue and gold
When I was young and times were old
And standing amongst the Tipperary crowd
We sang our songs clear and proud.
The worship of our heroes, urging a goal
Summer days in Thurles are a part of my soul,
From the chanting of ‘Tipp’ to Slievenamon
We were the expectation, the extra man.