mai venn

Freshman - 889 Points [5252]

mai venn Poems

1. 1916 4/2/2015
2. Blackmail The Oppressed, Attachment Order, Why Don’t You? By Mai Venn 5/6/2015
3. School Days 5/11/2015
4. Thought Of A First Time Mother. 5/23/2015
5. 2015 4/3/2015
6. The Irish Lament 4/15/2015
7. The Scale Of Liberty 4/15/2015
8. We Are Back -new- 8/31/2015
9. Where Are They 7/15/2013
10. Lady Of The Limelight 8/6/2013
11. Clouds And Sea 8/27/2013
12. Childhood Memories Of 1963 6/24/2013
13. Inspiration 10/1/2013
14. Nancy 11/18/2013
15. By Candlelight 7/8/2013
16. Duncannon Harbour 9/17/2013
17. A Stroll Through Autumn 11/10/2014
18. A Housewife Nay! 10/12/2013
19. Depressed 3/6/2014
20. Seasons Beside The Barrow By Mai Venn 6/30/2014
21. Spark Of Light 10/13/2013
22. The Wee Fossil 6/30/2014
23. Sunny Skies In Omagh 10/12/2013
24. I Am A Thinker By The Sea, 3/12/2015
25. The Corridors Of Life 9/30/2013
26. The Ballymun Flats 10/2/2013
27. Jukebox Blues 3/4/2015
28. The Cold Spell 2/15/2015
29. Austerity 2/15/2015
30. Doors And Corridors’ Part One 3/12/2015
31. God Help Ireland 2/13/2015
32. The 4th Day Of Christmas 12/28/2014
33. Autumn 1/15/2014
34. Freedom 7/6/2013
35. Banshee 7/6/2013
36. The Arival Of The Terrorist 5/25/2015
37. The Weapon By Mai Venn 2/18/2015
38. Oppression Of Ireland 1/12/2015
39. Commemoration Of 1798 7/8/2013
40. A Country On Its Knees 11/24/2014
Best Poem of mai venn

The Tears Of Ireland

It's time for me to write once more
But my mind flowed slow of inspiration
It's May Day, as I glance around

Apple blossoms nod in the breeze
Trees bloom green variations of shade
Across the fertile country of Ireland
Then petals fall like pink flakes of snow
Our pretty landscape is still and quite
Calm before a raging storm commences
Abortion looming over the realm
Austerity cuts the state in two

But yet

Apple blossoms nod in the breeze
Life goes on for the rich not the poor
Oppression and strife for the deprived ...

Read the full of The Tears Of Ireland

Anne Alone

All alone
You came to the grounds of Granard’s Church.
Frightened; forsaken,
What could be worse?
Oh Anne, your were but a child and not much more
When the pangs of labour,
All alone, you had to endure.
Your labour bed was a sheet of glass,
Your midwifes were the clouds that passed.

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