Percy French # Guinness.
The battle of Aughrim
Fierce slaughter ensued
Yet as with the virus
Our folk were imbued
Restrictions are easing
One small step today
From Kerry to Cavan
The eighteenth of may
Freshly cut grasses
Waft in the air
O’er hills and through copses
There’s none to compare
Propeller-like flowers
Outside of my door
Twisted pink petals
Perfumed to the core
Daisies are dancing
Oh how Haute Couture
In Lismore and Frenchpark
And wild Glenmalure
Blue skies today
So onwards I’ll roam
With winds from the south
To carry me home
The prowler is lurking
Oh such is our task
Be silent in battle
We shan’t slip our mask
For one pint of Guinness
I’d travel ten miles
Barefooted and dreaming
I’d swim seven Niles
The black burnt aroma
Around James’ Gate
And pure porter farts
The broad winds of fate.
Shan’t be long…..
tomclancy 