The Armada At Streedagh Poem by Dermot Healy
The Armada At Streedagh
Out to sea
there is the snap of a castanet,
Boats are going down
to the tune of the bolero.
Sovereigns are sifted
by old storms.
A bull, bleeding profusely,
makes for Grange.
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Poems By Dermot Healy
Best Poems
Best Member Poems
Best Classical Poems
New Poems
New Poets
Best Member Poets
Best Classical Poets
Explore Poems
Explore Poets
Poem Of The Day
Love Poems
Baby Poems
Death Poems
Sad Poems
Birthday Poems
Wedding Poems
Nature Poems
Sorry Poems
Hero Poems
Poetry E-Books
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
5/2/2024 6:53:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
...............a powerful and visual write...streedagh is a beautiful place...would love to visit there someday....enjoyed...