Two Final Journeys Poem by Prionsías Ó Canáin
Two Final Journeys
Sure, not a bother, McGraths is it you said ….
You’ll be after being at Mary Ellens funeral then.
A great crowd and the priest spoke well
Fine day for the living is angels by the grave for the dead.
No one left at the old place now the old girl’s gone.
You put me in mind of her only kid,
Fell out, or so I heard, a long time back,
A great pity that, but sure, isn’t it true,
Life marches on.
But you’re not here to be listening to an auld man blatherin,
Directions you were wanting, McGraths you said.
Now if I were you young lady, and ‘tis easy see I’m not
It’s not this road I’d be after takin.
But sure you’re here, that’s a tired sun,
And its west your facing.
Go on down this road a ways, about a mile,
Perhaps a little more, then at Careys Cross go left.
Be careful mind, do not take the bog boreen,
‘Tis hardly used at all these days. Modern times.
What with new-fangled central heating and the like
It's not turf now ye young ones are wanting to be cuttin’.
Where was I now, oh yes, McGraths.
You’ll not be going very long when soon as spit you’re
At spinney fork, keep right of old Stump Murphys well.
Follow on that road a spell, down past Vinnie Healys pit
And in the littlest while you’ll pass the co-op creamery yard.
Closed now, but sure, more progress I suppose.
Beyond this and where the road turns from road to path
Twists round and back upon itself
McGraths.
Good poem Frank. I guess I don't need mapquest now...b/c I have Frank Cannon! Cool concept. Well written. Top marks! -Michael
Your directions, told so captivatingly in your poem, I read with a smile. Thank you Frank much enjoyed.
Reads like a Clancy Brother's song. I have not been to your wonderful country in about 10 years (my wife's family is from Cabra in Dublin. Your poems are so very Irish at heart that I long to return sooner rather than later.
Oh sure I was there in your every verse.Ol Ireland will never be any the worse for this tale my fine feckle friend. For sure I give ten. So very well done Frank. Warmly from Fay.
LOL...Where's GPS when you need it? ? ? : -) Great poem! Hugs, Dee
the insight of this poem and memoirs of a story... Go on down this road a ways, about a mile, Perhaps a little more, then at Careys Cross go left. Be careful mind, do not take the bog boreen, ‘Tis hardly used at all these days. Modern times. What with new-fangled central heating and the like It's not turf now ye young ones are wanting to be cuttin’.
Meet you at McGraths now know where it's at Say when and of olden times we'll chat
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/4/2024 3:55:19 AM # 1.0.0.1119
This is enchanting Frank - you've captured the lilt of your Irish storyteller and woven it into your directions with great charm and ease. A byegone year perhaps you are remembering - or are these wonderful characters still around? love, Allie xxxx