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Our Poetry
Our Poetry
My Travels
I am a
horse dealer by trade,
Travelling
the length and breath of Ireland,
Many a
horse I bought in Ballinasloe,
Only to
sell him the next day in Drumbshambo,
Many a
time I went to Maams Cross ,
Many a deal I made some for profit and some for loss,
I
travelled to Spancilhill,
Where I
bought a horse called Bill,
On ahead
I went for Cork,
And
turned for Roscarbery at the fork.
My
favourite is Smithfield in the east,
Where I
love to rescue a poor beast,
And I
bring it home to the west,
Because Coolaney
is the best!
The
people came from Collooney,
They
cycled from Ballisadare,
They
walked from Ballymote,
To the Coolaney
Fair.
There
were sheep from the Ox Mountains
Cows from
Cloonacool
Horses
from Ballinacarrow
And pigs
swimming in a pool.
If I
could go away,
I would
go to Carrownaskeagh,
Or maybe
Knocknarea,
And look
down upon Lough Gill,
And
build house so high up.
By
Patrick Lawerence.
Gortnadrass.
In Gortnadrass
there is a hare who likes to roam from here to there,
Down the
road in the townland of Killoran the sheep like to jump the fence now and
then,
Often
times passing through Lissalough a heifer we can see.
‘Get
in’ we say as we go by for the sake of safety.
In Carrowleam
we see a goat oh what a great creature is she,
She eats
the weeds and keeps all in trim.
Peter
Gormley.
From Mullinabreena
to Coolaney
All
along Knocknashee,
You
have Berla, Carraghlogan and Carragh to see
The lake
in Carrnasheagh,
Where
the wild duck’s sing their song,
Before
they fly south in the
Formation
they belong
Beside
my home is a river,
I’m
not sure where it rose ,
It
run’s through two townlands ,
Killoran
and Deenodes.
From my
house in Deenodes,
You can
see Knocknashee,
You can
see trees and other hilltops ,
What
lovely scenery .
If you
enjoy history,
You’ll
like Knocknarea,
Queen
Maeve is laid to rest there,
That is
what they say.
Coolaney
is my home town,
Complete
with beauty all around,
There’s
the River Walk and the village well,
And up
the road there’s the Church Bell,
It holds
the title of “Tidiest Town”,
For most
of the years I’ve been around,
New
houses spring up here and there,
With
trees and flowers everyhere
By
Brendan Coleman.
From
the Hill of Knocknashee.
The day
is clear and bright,
Not a
cloud in sight,
I climb
the hill of ,
Its such
a peaceful place to be.
From
up there I look around
And see
the beauty which surrounds,
There is
places and townlands that I can pick out,
As the
suns shines from the south.
There
are some tunnels all in a row
I wonder
if something is inside to grow,
I just
remembered it’s the mushroom farm
And look
theres the church of Ireland in Rathbarron
As I
look across to the north
The Ox
Mountains I see
And to
my left is the hill of MucKelty
The
ruins of Memloughcastle
Are
plain to be seen
A bit
like the old creamery
In Carrowlean
The
museum in Carrowmore
Is where
people go
To find
out local history
And
other folklore
Gillagans
world is a pretty sight
I like
it at Christmas with all its
Lights.
To this
fairy hill I owe a lot
For my
daddy was from this very spot.
By Enda Kivlehan
Clara's Hills
On Clara
hills so high
Where
horses once went by
But now
we view the pylons
That
reach to the sky
Through Denodes
on to Killoran
Three
lovely lakes over flowing
By
Aisling Burns
There was a man from Coolaney
His name
was Ritchie faney
While
cutting hay
A hot
and sunny day
He fell
and hit his head off a rock
At about
two o clock a farmer was out
Searching
for a sheep flock
He found
the man bleeding
And in a
lot of shock.
He went
to hospital
And came
home good and fine
And had
a glass of wine.
By
Michel lawnence
Seeviness
Seeviness
is so quiet and
lovely
It’s
the birthplace of my grandparents
I follow
their footsteps
When
I run though the fields
And play
as my father and brothers did before me:
The only
things that are missed is the corncrack
Crys and
the donkey cart from by gone times.
And the
lovely welcome.
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