Ireland Green

by | Jun 20, 2010 | Poetry | 0 comments

As wind moans soft through whisper trees,
No one then heard the maiden’s pleas
They’d wrenched her lover from her grip
Took him, to a cold prison ship.

Then to a place he’d never seen
Away from Ireland’s fields so green
As convict, he now bore the name
His life no longer was the same.

When they took from the evil rack
Then sent him deep to Oz outback
For there the railways he did lay
And sleep of dead on his last day

Young maiden now bereft of love
Swore to all, and to God above
The mantle of her love she’d wear,
Death to enemies she did swear.

Took up the mantle of the Gun
To make the Brits she hated run
There was no killer cold of heart
Brutal and mean as this upstart.

After many an English army death
Girl then took her final breath
She was shot down one final day
Then taken where her lover lay.

Now if you’re near Magoolabreen,
Two well kept graves there can be seen
And on a moonlit windy night
Two lover ghosts give you a fright

To be sure! To be sure!


Submit a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *