Tuesday, June 26, 2012

My Only Claim To Fame

I've never won a literary prize the stuff i pen doesn't sell
Some refer to it as slipshod rhyme more call it doggerel
I've written reams and reams of rhymes and though my prime years are long gone
My pen i never will retire i just go on and on.

Sliabh Luachra from me a short drive when i lived near Millstreet Town
A place of musicians and poets and of cultural renown
Sliabh Luachra had it's glorious time but nothing ever last
The poets and musicians at rest and the past is the past.

Some twenty years in time has passed since i last climbed Clara hill
And heard the dipper singing in the babbling mountain rill
With views of Gortavehy and the ageless Paps of Shrone
It remains fresh in my memory the great beauty i have known

In Millstreet Town i went to school but there i may not grow old
The weather there is seldom warm the climate wet and cold
Where I grew up is far north of here even as the crow does fly
But the savage loves his native shore to me too does apply.

The stuff I write may not be good but I write it every day
And one thing i will never do that is give writing away
I once lived near Sliabh luachra my only claim to fame
Great musicians and singers and poets lived there so many one could name.

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