Michael Collins

“MICHAEL COLLINS”

“ You know who did it
Don’t you boy”
As you lay there on the ground
“ Did the bullet pass through?
Did it lodge inside?”
“ Did it come from a single sound”

“It was you, they chose to negotiate,
to set our Country free”
“ Knowing quite well the improbable’s
That this might never be”

“You know who did it, don’t you boy”
as the sweat mounts on your brow”
“You settled for 26 out of 32
t’was the best you could do for now”

“ The Brits, they lied, they cheated
To them we’re a secondary race”
“ And gave back 26 Counties
Knowing the trouble you’d face”

“You know who did it , don’t You Boy
it will never pass your lips”
“Cause you cannot speak and you look so weak
but it wasn’t the Bloody Brits”

“You know who did it , Don’t You Boy
they will never make amends”
“BUT YOU KNOW WHO DID IT
DON’T YOU BOY”
“THEY WERE ONCE YOUR OLD, OLD FRIENDS”


Michael Christopher Daly Nov. 1996

"Until Death Do Us Part"

“UNTIL DEATH DO US PART”


She sat on the stool outside the Pubs door
It has to be now, can’t take it no more
She could hear him inside ,laughs galore
As the credit for food, was cut off at the store

The money he earned was spent on drink
She was out of her mind , at the edge, the brink
Fifteen years of marriage, last ten the worst
Marriage in hell, must have been cursed

What had she done to earn this strife
“ Until death do us part”, she said as a wife
Sent the children home, her mother was kind
As she sat on the stool settling her mind

No more meetings with clergy and friends
All’s said and done , no more amends
No more moving , from here to there
Questioning religion , no more prayer

She fondled the revolver that lay on her lap
As he came through the door, a drunken sap
His fist hit her head, drove her across the street
And she struggled somewhat , to get on her feet

On her knees she aimed and the shot rang out
He dropped straight down without even a shout
Now she sits in the court house awaiting the end
Is a death sentence waiting, just round the bend

As she sat with council, quiet and tense
The foreman shouted “Not Guilty”, It was Self Defense”




m.c.d. 02/10/06

Gather the Roses

Gather The Roses

Gather the roses, one at a time
Pick only the best and make it nine

They’ve got to be fresh, like after the rain
And have that aroma, just like their name

Gather the roses, don’t rush, take care
They’re for someone special, someone so rare

Life has been hard in recent years
That caused her pain and led to tears

Gather the roses, with thorns all gone
Let the stems be clear and nine inches long

Price doesn’t matter, I must banish her pain
I hope she’ll forgive me and love me again

Gather the roses, just nine inches long
Roses so beautiful, with their own love song

Wrap them carefully, be gentle and kind
Because no other love is on my mind

Gather the roses, not jewels, not fur
Roses so precious, just like her

© 2004 by Michael C. Daly. All rights reserved

A Limerick, 5

“A LIMERICK, 5"



There was a young man from Carmel
Who made love with every Belle

Till a voice from a cloud
Spoke out quite loud

With directions to a place called hell

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.

Heaven Can Wait

“HEAVEN CAN WAIT”

There’s many a road from Limerick
And directions that would test one’s belief
Some go to counties with City’s
While others to fields filled with beef

But there is one that is always a pleasure
Where you stop when you’re about halfway
To continue a lifetime tradition
Whiskey Eggnogs, at Fannie O’ Dea’s

Two or three is all that is needed
And a chat with many old friends
While the children engulfed in Milk Shakes
Made from the best of blends

Then onward to your destination
With the road tightening up you see
Eight miles beyond Kilrush
Is the Heaven they call Kilkee.

No matter how many times you’ve been there
It’s the first breathtaking view
As the Strand with the Golden Beach
Opens up and welcomes you

Shovels and buckets are everywhere
Georges Head nods a welcome as well
Beckoning you to swim over
To rest on her rocks for a spell

The Ocean rushes in on the Pollock Holes
So delightful and so very cool
And there, one of Gods Creations
The Pollock Holes, now Swimming Pools

Limerick men, wives and children
No matter where they might be
When asked “Where is Heaven? They say
“On The West Coast Of Ireland,
“KILKEE”

Michael Christopher Daly, 04/14/2006

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

















Technorati Profile