Daniel McDonagh

The sky was black with grief & anger,
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Between the stars and the River Clyde
A path appears when the moon is bright,
And rising from their sleep, awake the Glasgow souls
And descend onto the path of silver and gold.
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From a green, beautiful troubled land,
Arrived on the shores, an Irishman,
A hitched ride to the cobbled streets of Glasgow
Were a job could fill a lonely soul.
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My father wore the colour of green
Deep within his heart,
Were he grew up in the Garngad
And walked the miles to Celtic Park.
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Oh father, can you hear
The voice of the Celtic fans
Who praise and glorify an Irish son
While others abuse his religion,
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Glasgow’s little Ireland lay in the Garngad
Where every boy followed the Celtic, along with his dad.
From those broken down streets, against a tenement wall,
A window pane is smashed, from a beautifully struck goal.
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There is a darkness in my soul
Black, cold and it is whispering,
Whispering so soft and so gentle,
Inviting compassion and daring.
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I feast my eyes on hardened rain,
cleanse me
drown me.
Clouds rest to shelter,
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Sean McBride and his young wife
Set out form County Cork,
They traveled over to Glasgow town
Were a football game they would watch,
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We have supported the Celtic, our pride and joy,
Since wearing the hoops as a 5 year old boy,
As Paradise was imagined on a tenement backcourt
Were games were won and battles fought.
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The entrance to C’Adder is guarded by a creature
Who rides a black unicorn, carrying his head in his hand,
His eyes watch all strangers, pilgrims of God
Who have been chased from their dwellings, robbed of their land.
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Songs of joy and and songs of celebration
Echoed on the terracing of old Hampden,
And crucified while standing firm on his goal line,
Stood the Rangers goalie, George Niven.
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In the famous land of the barren east end
lies broken factories and foundries,
the old city of industrial past
is forgotten and full of broken waste.
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When Brother Walfrid came to Glasgow
and settled in the old east end,
he would build a team for the diocese
that sheltered Irish immigrants,
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Celtic's birth in the east end of Glasgow
....was conceived by a man, a native of Sligo,
from the west coast of Ireland, from the horrors of the famine,
....a Marist priest came to Scotland and made it his home.
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The Celtic songs filled heaven's sky
and we marched along the Gallowgate
Joined by comrades, brothers and sisters,
As Brother Walfrid stood by Parkhead's gates.
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Green flags are unfurled and fill Glasgow's sky
Banners of Celtic held up high
Keep the faith, with pride, Walk on
Fill your heart with a Celtic song.
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Ulster’s ancient heart
Lay broken at Windsor Park,
As the saving grace of angels
Became victims to the fans of Linfield.
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I learned my history of Ireland
From my father every Friday night,
When he would arrive home from Madigan’s bar
Reciting in song and verse of Ireland’s fight.
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Take me back to Bellaghy
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