Ireland calls
Whispering jewel on an icy sea
Dancing the Cromwell stomp
Genocidal tendencies harshly criticized
Keeping the people in russet thread
Sterile Soldiers at their beck and call
Ruling the world in a bottle
Ethos in Obscurity
Ireland calls
The home on the wintery sea
One that I will never glimpse
Tomb stones over dust
History beckons me
A voice of rebellion in my soul
The drum beats mocking my heart
Stomping on my histories dust
Ireland calls
Echoing across the sea
The language new to me
Words lost in the clouds
The meaning is obvious
Liquid Amber from a whispering jewel
A voice of rebellion in my soul
The drum mocking my heart
Dug up and beheaded
Nature’s harsh tendencies
Driven by a tide
Roots in a land not my own
Scattered across the earth
Nomads of a whispering jade
2 comments:
... of a whispering jade... Ah, Willy O'Wright, you really know how to close a poem.
We will have go for a green beverage near a stage.....
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