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Christmas In Lisnaboy

Memories of a childhood Christmas for a lifetime we enjoy
And I often recall Christmas as a child in Lisnaboy
Santa left his bag of presents by the porch door in the moonlight
When the air was damp and frosty on the eve of Christmas Night
In Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary's house of here far north and far away
We enjoyed the ham and turkey and pudding on Christmas Day
But the years went by so quickly and time has left me looking gray
And the biological clock on my life silently ticking away
Weeks before Christmas we wondered what toys Santa to us would bring
The innocence of childhood it is a marvellous thing,
The Seasons go so quickly and the past forever gone
But the happy times from childhood in the memory living on
Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary in eternal rest now lay
But they come into my memory on the eve of Christmas Day.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Good Memories Remain With Me

Good memories remain with me and good memories never die
Of Summer days on uncle Dan's and aunty Mary's farm in green old Lisnaboy
Above the rushy meadow the lark carolled in the sky
And the new mown hay it scented sweetly in the sunshine of July.

The wild brown bees were gathering nectar on the flowers by the hedgerow
And above the sunlit meadows the swallows flew to and fro
And butterflies of many hues flitted around the wildflowers
Their life is brief when compared to ours they are old in forty hours.

The childhood years they went too fast the time just seemed to fly
But our happy memories of the past we reflect on and enjoy
Cock robin with the rich red breast sang on the willow tree
The robin king of his small World his hard won territory.

With my Uncle Dan and Aunty Mary I tossed the hay to dry
In the mid fifties in July in green old Lisnaboy
In old Duhallow north of here and thousands of miles away
But the boy back then now getting old and showing his years in gray.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Fairy Stars

My uncle Dan
was a Harlem Man
danced extra light on his feet
smiles like radiant sun
talked up close to ya
comfortable with himself
and you could always
smell his cologne.

The ladies loved him;
loved that laugh of his
he always had flattery for them
often given.

Uptown.
down town
he never came to the house
what without a gift;
loved us 'chilings'
soft candy

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Dan and Mary Ellen

With fondness I remember my aunt Mary Ellen the woman married to my uncle Dan
She was my role model and mentor long before I grew into a man
She taught me old songs from her childhood and poems to me she did recite
And she gave me valuable insights on Nature before I learned how to read and to write.

She and Dan in life did have their crosses their only child a girl in her childhood died
Their happiness at the birth of their daughter by the reaper's scythe to them denied
But Mary she got on with her life and her cross she bravely did bear
And her sense of loss never made her feel bitter and she never said life was unfair.

A lover of old poems and stories she knew the words of many a song
That she used to sing by the turf fire on Winter nights cold, wet, windy and long
She recited poems of the bards of Sliabh Luachra old greats from the centuries ago
So wise and knowledgeable for one self educated and so much about life she did know.

With Dan whom she spent many Seasons in the grave-yard at Cullen she lay
I mourned at the news of their passing though from Lisnaboy I live far away
They were generous with their wisdom and their knowledge of life they passed on down
And at peace their bones now rest in Cullen some seven miles from Millstreet Town.

poem by Francis Duggan
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A Walk On Memory Lane

To me a walk on memory lane can be a thing of joy
To visit my uncle Dan and aunty Mary in their home in Lisnaboy
I could call there at anytime and a welcome i would find
The past it seems to stay with us in the memory of the mind,
The little brown lark carolled as upwards he did fly
Above the old coarse meadow on an evening in July,
I am on a walk on memory lane and how lovely to hear and see
The red breasted robin singing on branch of an alder tree
It all seems very real to me not a vision in a dream
The white breasted dipper singing in the rapids of the stream
On it's way to the river babbling as it does flow
Through meadows and through rushy fields and by many a hedgerow
I walk the fields of Lisnaboy when I'm on memory lane
And i visit Dan and Mary it is like old times again.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Human Beings

Uncle Dan said
'now listen
There's right and there's wrong
and there two kinds of people:

those that can't be trusted to be right
and those that cannot be trusted with being wrong.

Take out the microscope and lets' see
what that person does when they
have you in the wrong.

If they treat you like you ain't' human
anymore
then that is the face of evil.

I worry more about those who
think they's absolutely right tho
than those that know's they's wrong.

[...] Read more

poem by Lonnie Hicks
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Comment! | Vote! | Copy! | In Romanian