There are some things that belong to Belfast ,
Like painted pathways where the river Lagan flows .
Like the beauty of the Botanical Gardens,
and what goes on at the Balmoral shows .
The flicker of fires .
The crack of a spark .
Where the old soul of Belfast is alive and well .
The nod of a head .
The silent things never said .
The gift of knowing what no one can tell .
Like picnics on the grass in Ormeau Park .
We all need to find open spaces in Belfast .
Where fresh air is free on a long walk to the Lough ,
and bangor boats come in as in times past .
A welcome word in a concrete landscape .
A smile of a stranger,
happy children at play .
It's a walk up the mountains ,
or down through the glen .
It's the colours of wild flowers in May .
Beyond the ghetto where the long grass grows knee high,
hiding the deep blue eyes of the butterflies wing .
You'll hear whispers of lovers as they softly sing,
their secret dreams promising everything .
Theres magic in the open spaces of Belfast .
Its between a fairy tree and a blackthorn bush ,
stop and take a look at the wonder of it all ,
it will pull you in with a gentle push .
By Paul McCann
