WJ Cooper series
No16 Derry Sonnet
Glorious Derry where floweth the Foyle
As words from Bellaghy roll with each hill
Gold from the Broighter in crucibles boiled
Whilst calls from an bonnán came with good will
Russet leaves blowing through grand groves of oak
I bask in the warmth beside your great walls
Quilled ones and singers past times to evoke
Spirits of artists by wondrous Guildhall
Starlit is the lake where tides ebb and flow
Oh mighty Lough Neagh dear haven of eel
The Sperrins look down with wealth to bestow
Homebound turf cutters with donkey and creel
There’s no fairer tune the old Derry Air
God penned it one day, a melody rare.
Tom Clancy.
tomclancy 