General Chat

If you don't attend my funeral, I'll not go to yours.

Edward Lear:

There was an Old Man with a beard,
Who said 'It is just as I feared!-
Two Owls and a Hen,
Four Larks and a Wren,
Have all built their nests in my beard!


I have only written one verse, there are several more, but I think this is my favourite! :-S

The Old Woman.
---------------------
As a white candle
In a holy place,
So is the beauty
Of an aged face.

As the spent radiance
Of the winter sun,
So is a woman
With her travail done.

Her brood gone from her,
And her thoughts are still
As the waters
Under a ruined mill.

(Joseph Campbell 1879-1944).

The tired womens Epitaph

Here lies a poor woman, who was always tired.
She lived in a house were help was not hired.
Her last words on earth were.,
"Dear friends I am going
where washing aint done, nor sweeping and sewing
But everything there is exact to my wishes
For where they dont eat there is no washing of dishes
I'll be where loud anthems will always be ringing
But having no voice I will be free of the singing.
Dont mourn for me now. don't mourn for me never.
I am going to do nothing for ever and ever.


Rita

Dun na Rí
---------------
If you ever go to Ireland
I'm sure you will agree
To take the road from Dublin town
Way down to Dun na Rí
'Tis there you'll find a wishing well
Beyond a chestnut tree
In a shady nook, by a winding brook
Will you make this wish for me

Oh to be in Dun na Rí
With the sweetheart I once knew
To stroll in the shade of the leafy glade
Where the rhododendrons grew
To sit with my love on the bridge above
The rippling waterfall
But to go back home never more to roam
Is my dearest wish of all

And if you take the hilly path
To the woods where bluebells grow
Where we as barefoot children played
So many years ago
You'll find a slumbering castle there
Enshrined in memory
In a shady nook, by a winding brook
Will you make this wish for me

Oh to be in Dun na Rí
With the sweetheart I once knew
To stroll in the shade of the leafy glade
Where the rhododendrons grew
To sit with my love on the bridge above
The rippling waterfall
But to go back home never more to roam
That's the dearest wish of all.
------------------------------------------

(Eilis Boland).

A man lost his false teeth, and hasn't found a trace.
So for a while you'll see his smile on someone else's face,

The Mother
(Padraig Pearse 1879-1916)
---------------------------------
I do not grudge them: Lord, I do not grudge
My two strong sons that I have seen go out
To break their strength and die, they and a few,
In bloody protest for a glorious thing,
They shall be spoken of among their people,
The generations shall remember them,
And call them blessed;
But I will speak their names to my own heart
In the long nights;
The little names that were familiar once
Round my dead hearth.
Lord, thou art hard on mothers:
We suffer in their coming and their going;
And tho’ I grudge them not, I weary, weary
Of the long sorrow - And yet I have my joy:
My sons were faithful, and they fought.

Dun na Ri

Oh how the memories fled back to me when I read this. Indeed it brought tears to my eyes so vivid those memories are,
My father used to recite this to me when I was very young, I could not recall all the lines so a very big THANK YOU from me.

23.02 hrs Spain

I've now changed my name from N.N to Lizlynes, so here goes!

The kiss of sun for pardon,
The song of birds for mirth,
One is nearer God's heart in a garden
Than anywhere else on earth.


God's Garden Mrs Dorothy Frances Gurney 1858-1932

There is always a shortgage of the things I need most & a surplus of the items I would gladly do without.

Funny that!

There is honour in defeat as well as in victory - even though that approach is sometimes regarded by many as a philosophy of despair.

Rupert Brooke

There's Wisdom in Women

June 1913

Oh love is fair, and love is rare;' my dear one she said,
'But love goes lightly over'. I bowed her foolish head,
And kissed her hair and laughed at her. Such a child
Was she;

But there's wisdom in women, of more than they have known,
And thoughts go blowing through them, are wiser than
Their own,
Or how should my dear one, being ignorant and young,
Have cried on love so bitterly, with so true a Tongue?

One Day

Today I have been happy. All the day
I held the memory of you, and wove
Itslaughter with the dancing light o' the spray,
And sowed the sky with tiny clouds of love,
And sent you following the White waves of sea,
And crowned your head with fancies,nothing worth,
Stray buds from that old dust of misery,
Being glad with a new foolish mirth.

Slightly I played with those dark memories,
Just as a child, beneath the summer skies,
Plays hour by hour with a strange shining stone,
For which ( he knows not) towns were fire of old,
And love has been betrayed, murder done,
and great kings turned to A little bitter mould.

The Pacific, October 1913

Experience is a hard teacher. She gives the test first & the lesson afterwards.

I shall be adding on here again, later today. It is easier to do that on my desk top than on my iPad. Dermot, where are you? I sooo look forward to your sayings. Also please add some more Irish poems etc, I really enjoy them, I am going to see if I can find an Irish poetry book. Any suggestions.

Oh I wish my dad was here he would be reciting them.

Nothing to do with anything else on here, I just had this thought.
Is it possible to write something in English using the alphabet in order, from start to finish???

:-S

10.25 Spain

Um! Have to have a think about that Spanish Eyes!!!!

The Galway Shawl.
-------------------------
At Oranmore in the County Galway,
One pleasant evening in the month of May,
I spied a damsel, she was young and handsome
Her beauty fairly took my breath away.

Chorus:
She wore no jewels, nor costly diamonds,
No paint or powder, no, none at all.
But she wore a bonnet with a ribbon on it
And round her shoulder was a Galway Shawl.

We kept on walking, she kept on talking,
'Till her father's cottage came into view.
Says she, "Come in, sir, and meet my father,
And play to please him The Foggy Dew."

She sat me down beside the fire
I could see her father, he was six feet tall.
And soon her mother had the kettle singing
All I could think of was the Galway shawl.

I played The Blackbird and The Stack of Barley
Rodney's Glory and The Foggy Dew
She sang each note like an Irish linnet.
Whilst the tears stood in her eyes of blue.

'Twas early, early, all in the morning,
When I hit the road for old Donegal.
She said goodbye, sir, she cried and kissed me,
And my heart remained with that Galway shawl.

Thank you Dermot, another song that was sung in our home.
My fater was adopted as were all the children except one, at the time of the troubles they ere a dived bunch but once in the home, my grandmother would take anything offensive away from them and they became a real family again.
These remind me of my grandmother.

20.59 hrs Spain

My mother used to say,
"A son is a son till he takes a wife
A daughter is a daughter for the rest of her life"

Would a fly without wings be called a walk?

The most important leg of a three-legged stool is the broken one.