Murt of Barracurragh
by Ciaran & Jennifer O’Sullivan

Many names you might have had:
Brother, husband, uncle, dad,
 Cousin, granddad, friend or foe,
We all miss you the same though.
The dogs are still waiting for your gravelly growl,
Your grandchildren miss their after-school friend,
All their love to you they send.

You were your own expert mechanic,
As stubborn as Billy Byrne’s donkey,
With hands of a busy giant “if you don’t mind”.
The postman’s rounds finish early
‘ cos you’re not around.
In the years of pain with a selfless smile
You welcomed all to stop awhile.

Sometimes in contemplation you dwelt
With Joyce’s words-the passion felt.
Many years have gone by,
But our memories of you will never die.

Not lying in Limbrick shale-
But alive in every tale.

 

© All writings are the copyright of the author and should not be reproduced in any format unless with their direct consent.

If you would like to get published on the site please contact us at damian@kilanerin.com