That Irishman

Cherry

By mickleinapickle

Fri, 16 Mar 2018
  • 1397 reads
6 comments
 

I heard a band:

marching

Irish pipers.

 

The lilting,

haunting lament

reached the core of my senses,

touched a sadness in my heart,

made me think longingly

of times now past.

 

I saw a man:

red hair,

broad girth,

resplendent beard,

marching to the rhythm.

 

He had a swagger in his gait,

a splendour in his step,

a pride in his comportment.

 

The music and the march

invoked the essence

of his people,

his land,

his history,

his heritage.

 

I wept

at the race-memory

of my soul.

 

I wished

I could have been

that Irishman.

Certificate U
Poem
Days Like Those
Autobiography

Comments

Submitted by london_calling79 on

I am an Irishman and I thoroughly enjoyed this. Tugged at the nostalgia that never quite makes me move home.

 

Submitted by mickleinapickle on

I think 20-odd percent of the UK population has a bit of Irish in them. Myself included. Similar percentage in America, Canada, Australia, etc. I think the whole world will throw a party when the island of Ireland finally becomes one united country. Thanks for the comment.

 

Submitted by Starfish Girl on

My father Irish spending much of his life in England, never losing the accent, my English grandmother never able to understand him completely, 'What is he saying?'.

Quite proud of my Irish background and your poem sums it up very nicely.

Lindy

Submitted by mickleinapickle on

There's something intangible about it all. I suppose the French would call it, 'je ne sais quoi'. Thanks for your comment.

 

Submitted by Ray Schaufeld on

I have no Irish blood in me but I like the music. Will push though the snowflakes to the pub!

Submitted by mickleinapickle on

My Dad came from Athenry and of course there's a song about Athenry. Thanks for the comment. Take care.