Richmond Rugby and Nicknames

Richmond Rugby
And
Nick Names


It was Richmond Rugby , up the Canal Bank
Where we gathered together, all in a rank
This was the field, where they tested your mettle
To get a place on the team and to check your fettle

It was here, where all the old stories were told
As Nick Names grew, and began their hold
There was Langer, and Auchnie, Bunty and Buller
With ,Goadie, Beefy, Wedger , and Dobber


Pudden, The Hawk, Maul and Maggett
Bullock, Gagga, Boxer and Blackie
With Spa and Bunkers, Jobber and Jogger
Maugwaw, little maugwaw,Connie Apples and Whacker

There were so many others, that I cannot remember
Who were at that field , on each September
To try out for the team, or give their support
To Richmond Rugby, their favorite Sport

Where are they now, ? You may friendly ask
That well may be, a saddening task
Many to America, where they became a Yank
But they never forget Richmond, Or the Canal Bank


Michael Christopher Daly
(Ducker)
Feb.12, 2006

My BSA Bantam

“MY BSA BANTAM”



On the Dublin Road, there was many a Bar
There was no speed limit and hardly a Car
Wide and sheik, with a black tar face
Straight as an arrow, with plenty of space

A mighty roadway, to start a hike
But to me it was built, for my Bantam Bike
Out of our house, on St. Lelia Street
I rolled that bike, looking very neat

I stood awhile, to let the people see
This mechanized machine, belonged to me
I straddled the saddle, ready for the day
It was me and Bantam, built by BSA

What a year that was, Nineteen Fifty Four
Who knew that two years later, I’d be at America’s Door
But for now ‘twas the road, that lead everywhere
So I left my scarf flow and let the Devil take care

I had many a friend on the back of that bike
As we traveled to places, Too far for a hike
It was my magic carpet , that flew with the wind
Some times I just hoped , It would never end.


m.c.d. Jan. 1, 2006

The Shannon Banks

THE SHANNON BANKS


So many times I have given thanks
To have walked along the Shannon Banks
To smell the scent of new mowed hay
As it caught the nostrils along the way

The Canal Bank was the starting block
Where the tugs pulled in beside the dock
To drop off their wares in the Barrel Yard
With kegs of Guinness held in high regard

At the Second Bridge a platform of stone
Stretched into the river, it’s use well known
It could be your first swim and it usually was
Just dive off the stone after heavenly pause

Across the way was Hayes’s field
And the best of Mushrooms it did yield
In the early morning you could take a dip
And put all the mushrooms in a pillow slip

There was the Third Bridge and Groody as well
Where one could sit and rest for a spell
I shed a tear when memories recall
All the good things we had with little at all

We got along with our friends ,no need for a gang
Done the best we could when the School Bell rang
Now I Dream of things so far , far, away
And thank the Lord for allowing me, so many a day

m.c.d.Dec. 8,2005

"Dickie"

“DICKIE”

( Ode to a fellow Limerickman)

I tip my hat and raise my glass
and whisper a prayer to God
I do so in a quiet mannered way
in the hope that the Lord might nod

Acknowledge the man, who left behind
the life he loved so dear
Condemn his faults, they were not so bad
as his contributions deserve a “Cheer”

A mans man is what he was
courageous, ambitious too
A gifted talent belonged to him
that he shared with me and you

A striking appearance, with a rugged look
and eyes that smiled at will
He became a star in the profession he chose
and the void will be hard to fill

“Oh” Richard Harris, how we envied you
in your role of Rugby Strife
It suited you and you made your mark
as the lead in “This Sporting Life”

As time flashed by you achieved more fame
on the screen and stage as well
‘Till you heard the call that comes to us all
which takes us away from hell

So above the clouds, you’ll be welcome there
as you were in “The Auld Sod”
And I tip my hat and raise my glass
As I whisper a prayer to God.

“Good Night Richard (Dickie) Harris “

Michael C. Daly
Pearl River , New York.

Lelia Street

Lelia Street:

As I walked the Canal Bank
soft tears ran down my face
My mind with memories, crowded
while my legs slowed down a pace


Each house, each field, each scent
fought each other for my time
So I dwelled a little longer
and my thoughts became sublime


Names, faces and landmarks
flashed by as clear could be
So I stood alone on the bank
to let it all come back to me


On Lelia Street , on summer days
round lunch time I recall
Those hurlers came outside their doors
The "Sliothar" was their ball


With hurley sticks held tightly
they were set to play their game
And flashed their skills so brilliantly
you remembered every name


No need to mention who they were
'cause names bring back the tears
Of friends so dear that have passed on
it's the agony of the years


So back I walk the Canal Bank
heading to the rented car
On the Boreen to the Dublin Road
and the historic A-1 Bar


Close to fifty years have passed
since I was born close by
On Lelia Street, and the tears begin
where I grew up as a boy

M.C.D

















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