The Shlaun Man Poem by Francis Duggan

Some say the lark sing near the gates of heaven
If this be so the lark has far to fly
But o'er the brown bogland of Caherbarnagh
I heard him piping in the cloudy sky.

In Den Donnelly's bog spreading turf from Jer Leary
One of the best shlaun men for miles around
A stocky built man of five foot four no taller
The best of men are built close to the ground.

Jer Leary said when skylark pipes his sweetest
Then surely rain can't be too far away
The fog is gathering over Gortavehy
We well might have a shower or two today.

Jer Leary was truly a skilful shlaun man
He learnt his trade well from Den Donnelly
He shlauned the turf out quick and clean and even
And I marvelled at his sheer dexterity

One of the last of the old breed of shlaun men
I fancy I can see him shlauning still
Jer Leary's bones may well be resting elsewhere
But his ghost is in the bog by Caher hill.

The lark was singing over the brown bogland
On that cloudy morning years ago in May
And Jer Leary wiped his brow as he looked upwards
Saying we might have a shower or two today.