Poem

(One for the summer…Two leaders, any place, anytime)

When Heaney met Yeats

When two songbirds met together they flew
O’er buttock carved hills distant and blue
Each sang of the flowers both petal and cup
And daisies like quail eggs stood sunny side up
Dream-trees were laden with poetic fruit
They drifted on by as God played his lute
Then onwards to Dublin a childhood abode
An old friend was passing along Raglan Road
They sailed up the Foyle and one soul stood proud
As dandelion seeds paratrooped in a crowd
A Rieger played requiem and old Boolavogue
When one recalled Sligo and sweet Garavogue
A half moon was hanging off-white broken bread
Wine oozing from springs and nothing was dead
They viewed old Drumcliff as windmills did turn
Like great ship propellers the oceans to churn
Oak leaves were fluttered and stirred in the trees
Like words in their thousands kissed by the breeze
Oh albumen Ireland of inkwells and quills
Where poems sprout greenly from each spaded drill
Through wide fields of neon when rape is in bloom
Two wordsmiths on horseback are minting new tunes
In gold cloths of heaven they’re clad for all time
Each line in their cosmos forever shall rhyme.

Tom Clancy.

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Poem

WJ Cooper series
No 13 Limerick Sonnet

Oh Luimneach a stór my one reverie
Where flows the broad Shannon joyously by
As gulls on the wing bring tales from the sea
And dreams of Adare tie sheaves of surprise
The smell of fresh grass in old Abbeyfeale
While linnets perform with orchestras fair
Kilmallock exudes a wisdom so real
Ardagh owns a treasure, none can compare
Please carry me home to her fertile vales
As heroes of Thomond line the parade
And ghosts from John’s Castle pass the moon pale
A paradise pure from Eden was made
To stand of a day by yon Treaty Stone
Whilst sailors with tack to heaven are blown.

Tom Clancy.
(Sure it had to be Limerick, Happy birthday big lad)

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Poem

WJ Cooper series
No12 Wexford Sonnet

A gem by the waves all purple and gold
From fine sands at Clone to Hook and beyond
Brave Wexford my love a thrill to behold
Oh Slaney your banks our nation did bond
Duncannon I lust for your magic at dawn
As Gorey laments her brave sons at dusk
While geese from afar descend to rich lawns
Great millstones at Ferns took flour from the husk
Oh Oliver Sheppard cast him in bronze
Stout-hearted Pikeman his life to lay down
Blackstairs regaling you shan’t walk alone
Bold Enniscorthy splendiferous town
Rapturous twitters at old Monaseed
Loch Garman stood strong with God to succeed.

Tom Clancy.

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Poem

WJ Cooper series
No 11 Donegal Sonnet

Oh Donegal’s homes as much famed in song
From Slieve League to Malin turf fires aglow
A pot on the boil as they went along
And wonderful sunsets west of Dungloe
Great Glenveagh’s eagles majestically soar
As magic auroras light the night sky
Music exudes from each house in Gweedore
By old Ballyshannon the curlew cries
Oh gone are the folk to far distant lands
Buncrana still keens those lost line by line
While mighty Tír Chonaill holds out her hands
Errigal welcomes them home for all time
Blue Stacks enchanting glorious Tory
Ghosts on boreens with fiddle and story.

Tom Clancy.

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Poem

WJ Cooper series
No 10 Meath Sonnet

The wonder of Newgrange set by the Boyne
Where skylarks announce beneath royal skies
The elk and wild boar gave heart hide and loin
Whilst forbears in peace awaited sunrise
Doves in the keep of yon castle in Trim
As elvers prepare for vast stretching seas
Goblets at Tara are full to the brim
As kings watch their horses graze in the lea
The glory of Slane and far tolling bells
A poet so brave cut down in his spring
Grand Celtic cross and one book of Kells
Throne of old Erin where choristers sing
Noblest Navan…mysterious Dowth
Lush are the fields around splendorous Knowth.

Tom Clancy.

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Poem

WJ Cooper series
No 9 Clare Sonnet

Away I must fly to sweet county Clare
Where cliffs form a wall ‘gainst thunderous seas
Old suns red as blood pastelling the air
With Dromoland’s birds all singing for me
Oh bold Killaloe where halliards clink
Whilst giant oaks muse by great Béal Ború
One gallant Armada destined to sink
Mermaids were shedding their tears in the blue
Fresh fruits from the brine entice Ballyvaughan
As Burren’s fine jewels colour the scene
Notes from the piper at Milltown at dawn
Songs of old Ireland and wearing of green
Memories like clouds o’er Doolin pass by
Thoughts of the Banner bring tears to my eyes.

Tom Clancy.

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Poem

WJ Cooper series
No 8 Leitrim Sonnet

Oh Leitrim my love with snippet of sea
Where Yeats’ Glencar fills pools of romance
Sheebeg and Sheemore a wonder to see
And Lough Allen’s slopes where old fairies dance
Stone Coracloona the late prince’s grave
Foxgloves at morning at sweet Dromahair
Birdsong at twilight laments Fionn the brave
At Carrick on Shannon warmth fills the air
Such heavenly views surround Eagle Rock
One sculpted with care by hands from above
Great canal journeys and treats at each lock
Then off to sheer bliss with one little shove
Dromod so grand and Mohill just fancy
Melvin sky blue the home of MacClancy.

Tom Clancy.

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Getting there (around Ireland with a pencil)

Some final editing to be done but getting there slowly but surely.
Thanks for watching.

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poem

No 7. Co Down Sonnet.
WJ Cooper series

The Mountains of Mourne a treasure for me
As thrushes greet kings from each holly bush
The farrier’s anvil sends melodies
As galaxies roll in maritime lush
Such sights can be seen from wondrous Donard
Strangford so blue and pure in it’s bounty
White horses of snow by beautiful Ards
Down of my dreams oh magical county
Oh deep in your heart the grave of our saint
Neath rock of granite no giant could move
Rosie from Banbridge on boreens so quaint
Those scenes in my soul no man can reprove
Hillsborough fair by dear Lagan Valley
Boats at Ardglas fresh fish in each galley.

Tom Clancy.

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No 6 WJ Cooper series.

WJ Cooper series

No 6 Sligo Sonnet

Oh mighty Ben Bulben peeps through the mist
As notes from Killavil send a sweet riff
Beautiful Sligo where angels exist
And softly our poet sleeps at Drumcliff
From luscious Lough Arrow to Knocknashee
To the mound where Maeve looks out at Slieve League
At Highwood the woodbine calls to the bee
Chimney-like falls pouring streams of intrigue
Penned laws of Brehon on Dartry stones bare
Fishing boats anchored beside Mullaghmore
Pretty maids dancing like waifs in the air
Geevagh’s wild primrose and daisies galore
Black Jack’s Rosses Point and old wishing wells
Rowan trees blooming in grand Lissadell.

Tom Clancy.

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