In Summer Lanes

Did the souls of boys,cut down in France,come home again,to rest in lush ditches,by English country lanes,as bright summer poppies, So, each year unending,free to dance once more,joyful remembrance blooms,headless of the rush,of passing motorcars,in home-counties soil, Red now their clothes,heads sway rejoicing,on wildly weaving stalks,stout-hearted amid weeds,no brown wilted youth,inside worn frames, Ebullient life... Continue Reading →

The Time of the Tans.

There has been huge amounts of commentary about the recent ill fated decision to formally commemorate the Royal Irish Constabulary (RIC) and the Dublin Metropolitan Police. It descended very quickly into a massive argument, with the vast majority of the public quickly coming to a consensus that can be summed up as 'who in the... Continue Reading →

Béal na mBláth

Béal na mBláth
I often wonder how that young Private felt,when he saw the blood flow from Collins,to mingle with the dirt in Beal na mBláth,struck down by a ricochet,the echoes still reverberating,ringing through the decades.

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