WJ Cooper series
No17 Cork Sonnet
From Shehy’s fair hills emergeth a queen
How shapely and pure my own lovely Lee
Old Shandon and Mardyke gloat in the scene
With magic and poise she runs to the sea
To watch the white gannets diving off Schull
Cork my fair maiden of rebel and soul
At Queenstown a tear where last saw the hull
Storms at Kinsale as waves crash and roll
Blackwater waltzing with grace at Fermoy
Grand Mitchelstown’s fields of green and of lush
At old Béal na Bláth where fell our brave boy
After the tempest there came a great hush
Oh God’s own Coolea the home of our bard
One king with his ash no Spartan could guard.
Tom Clancy.
tomclancy 