It is "I"

There came a knock upon my door
At least that was the sound
Without thinking who it could be
I opened it, then looked around

There wasn’t a soul that I could see
As the moon lit up the sky
I felt a breeze that kissed my face
Then a “Whisper” “It is I”, “It is I “

I took a step outside the door
My blood now pumping fast
The whispers getting stronger
Are we together again? at last

All the sadness of your passing
Returned to my mind and eye
Then the breeze kissed my lips
Whispering, “It is I”, “It is I”

The breeze caressed my face again
Then it circled around my hand
Seeming to touch the fingers
That held our wedding bands

I understood the meaning
I no longer had a need to cry
As the love of my life whispers
“It is I”, “It is I”, “It is I”.

Empty Things

Empty Things

I wrote in an empty diary
Of the love I had for you
Each day since you’ve been gone
A page begins anew

I open the diary at bedtime
To review what I have written
Because when I first met you
One look and I was smitten

I thought that I was set for life
At the altar when you said “I DO”
I put your name on my bankbook
When we shared our love so true

But when the love was all from me
I began to realize
The bonds of marriage were broken
As I could see it in your eyes

Now that you are not coming back
I’m feeling kind of glad
It is you who took me for a fool
And that is mighty sad

Fools Gold

Don't tell me if you see her
for I don't want to know
things are piling up
because of that "So and So"

It took only one week
but it really felt much more
and the time we spent together
could never be called a bore

My eyes were locked on her
the very first time we met
she seemed to be beckoning me
to come over and be intimate

I turned away for a moment
trying to hide what was on my mind
wanting to go sit beside her
a little leery of what I might find

She knew I had something to give her
I felt that she could give me much more
so I went and sat beside her
until the a.m. when the clock said four

Our passion had lasted that long
and the rest of the week was the same
on the final day of my stay
I discovered she was playing a game

There was another guy sitting beside her
who appeared to be lost in a dream
I didn't have the heart to tell him
to beware of this slot machine.

The Little People

I drove out into the country as far as I could go
just needed to be alone let my mind flow
No more voices, no delegating, no orders
Just the sound of the winds breaking over the borders
A field with no gate, least not to the eye
With haystacks all over ‘neath a clear blue sky

What is the future? What’s in store for me?
Have I lost you forever? Are you thinking of me?
I leaned on a haystack and it began to slide
Then a hole appeared and down I did glide
I shouted aloud to anyone for help
As I landed in a heap on a floor of kelp

I got up in fear but there wasn’t a sound
It was lit by lanterns built into the ground
I followed the lanterns to a cast iron door
It opened to a fog; my fears grew more
I didn’t move but floated in
to see a little old man with a mischievous grin

Then six others came out from the walls
And sat with the old one in tiny stalls
Clothed in green from head to foot
With great white beards that were never cut
They just stared at me and I stared back
Wondering to myself if they were going to attack

Suddenly I realized we were surrounded by trees
I was no longer standing, I was on my knees
A high pitched voice and the smell of Poteen
“Do ya know why yar here? And what have ya seen?"
“No, I fell in a hole through a haystack up there”
“I was blinded , you see from the suns bright glare”

“Yar here today ‘cause an American Colleen
Requested it so, my dear Mickeleen
She loves you so much her prayers got to us
Now listen up well without any fuss
Write to her often you’ll be there in two years
Love her for life, wipe away all her tears

We will see that you get there, no more than that.

The Three Thirty Train

I was walking slowly
On a Street called Main
Thoughts on my mind
About the Three Thirty Train
Should I go down there?
Can’t make up my mind
Just walking slowly
Wondering what I might find

It is quite some time
Since you walked out on me
Now, you make contact
But I’ve forgotten you see
I’m still on Main Street
Walking slowly along
Remembering your face
And remembering our song

I must admit, I still feel lost
Why is that so?
As you left without a word
And I never did know
Why are you coming back?
On that Three Thirty Train?
The same one you left from
On that street called Main

I’m no longer a young man
I still live all alone
But you will be welcome
In the place I call home
I am now striding along
That street called Main
No longer afraid of
That Three Thirty Train

Michael Christopher Daly, Oct. 17th, 2007

The Bully

I tried to show that I wasn’t scared
Though my knees were ready to give in
I took a stance that indicated strength
With hands ready and aimed at his chin
But his eyes, were locked on Mine
And I just couldn’t stare him back
I knew the trouble I was in
When he roared to begin his attack

How could I have gotten into this mess?
Now he is beginning to hiss
Maybe I could save the day
If I hug him and give him a kiss
My fear made me attack first
And he wasn’t ready for that
As I landed a punch on his nose
And he screamed like a stepped on cat

He looked up at me from the ground
His hands covering his face
The blood seeped through his fingers
As the crowd circled our space
He staggered a little, while getting up
Then stood on the tips of his toes
Took away his hands from his bloody face
Showing everyone his broken nose

A ghostly moan could be heard by all
As he sat back down on the ground
He cried aloud to the departing crowd
Who had more sympathy for a passing hound?
He was all alone as he passed me by
Going home to a fatherless home
I caught up to him and we talked a while
I didn’t want him to be all alone
We met many times after that day
The title “Bully”, was no longer his name
We got on with our lives, in different styles
I recalled this from my Memory Lane

Michael Christopher Daly
Nov.25th, 2007

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 Pictures

My Pictures

I gaze at pictures on my wall
Place d there for all to see
I watch them each and every day
All with a separate memory

They seem to move and come alive
Without any exaggeration
So I’m all intense, but I join in
With my creative imagination

Some are old in black and white
Very sharp on detail
Others of color that sometimes fade
Needing touching up to email

Each picture tells a tale
And relates it to ones mind
Time stood still for a moment
Captured for all mankind

It is so relaxing to sit here
And going back in time
With the help of all the pictures
I just become sublime

As friends drop in to say “Hello”
With their coats hung in the hall
The conversation stops, in awe
Of my pictures on the wall.

Michael Christopher Daly
Dec.23rd,2006

Distance

“DISTANCE”

From there to here can be short or long
It’s a measurement , you see
For some people it must be exact
But it’s all the same to me

Distance is measured in many ways
And done in different styles
In America, it’s the time it takes
In Europe, it’s the miles

But no matter how we travel
By Land, or Sea or Air
The distance is the same, you see
From here to over there

So now consider the weather conditions
The wind, the rain and snow
And time becomes a problem
Depending which way you go

If the wind is blowing from here to there
And you’re coming from there to here
You know that you would be better off
If the wind was at your rear

But, if the wind is with you
And you’re going from here to there
You will travel the same amount of miles
But you will have some time to spare

Michael Christopher Daly
10/03/96

Excuses

“EXCUSES”


T’WAS A RAINY AULD DAY
WITH THE WIND ACTING UP
T’WAS GOOD FOR NOTHING
EXCEPT TAKING A SUP

NO LIGHT IN THE SKY
JUST THAT COLD LOOKING GREY
SURE, YOU COULDN’T CUT TURF
OR BRING IN THE HAY

THE GOLF COURSE TOO SOGGY
AND WHO WOULD BOTHER PLAYING TENNIS
“SURE, T’IS A GREAT AULD DAY LADS”
“TO KNOCK DOWN A FEW GUINESS”

“BUT WHAT ABOUT EXERCISE”
‘CAUSE THAT STUFF FILLSYOU UP”
“WE’LL WORRY ABOUT THAT LATER’
WHEN THE WEATHER LETS UP

Michael Christopher Daly
5/21/94

The Message 9/11 Part Three

“THE MESSAGE 9/11 PART THREE

I can see the smoke
And the waste that’s left
I can hear the forklifts
Screeching in the depths

I can see the rubble
Being carried away
I can see, and hear this
Every single day

But there is something else
That I cannot see
As my eyes reach the river
Heading out to sea

I cannot touch it
But I can feel it there
It sways back and forth
Up and down in the air

As I move away
It surrounds my being
As if to communicate
Without ever seeing

It does not scare me
I’m beginning to understand
They are aware of our grief
All over this land

The Message they’re sending
Is directed to us all
“THAT LIFE”, MUST GO ON
AND FOR US TO STAND TALL.

Michael Christopher Daly 10/30/2001

The Aftermath 9/11 Part Two

‘THE AFTERMATH 9/11 PART TWO

Shattered dreams, against battered walls
And foundations swaying too
The problems that were huge to us
Don’t matter now, are few

Our way of life, our magnificent freedom
Has been tested to the core
And the shock waves are continuing
As the body count just soar

How many funerals can one attend
Before the tears are gone
How much sorrow must we bear
Before we right this wrong

We feel the pain and the misery
As if struck by the lightening rod
We question our very own beliefs
“OH, WHERE ON EARTH IS GOD”?

When everything is running smooth
We hardly ever turn to him
When there is an illness in the family
We place our call of help to him

When sudden death takes a loved one
We get angry with him
And when total tragedy strikes
We begin to disbelieve in him

This Tragedy is not of “God’s” doing
It is of and by the will of man
When Hate takes over his very soul
As only Hate can

So let’s bring justice to this act
And it must be our decision
To put an end to all of this
And an end to ‘TERRORISM”


Michael Christopher Daly 10/06/2001

"Terrorism", 9/11 Part One

“TERRORISM”,9/11 PART ONE

Mouth open, Eyes focused, Heart pounding
How can this be true?
My television has gone plain crazy
With the most unrealistic view

Plumes of smoke are billowing
From the top of the North Twin Tower
As a plane, aimed directly at the building
Hits, Explodes, In Fire, Debris and Shower

Then another plane is in sight
“Now , wait a sec”, Where is it going”
To the Second Tower, going faster
With no attempt at slowing

“MY GOD”, It hits the South Tower
and the flames shoot out and in
In Religion, there’s a name for this
As it is the greatest sin

There is no denying Terrorism
Especially in this case
Their leader is well known to us
With his Satanic Bearded Face

We can’t say “GOD FORGIVE THEM”
FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO”
They knew “Damned Well” the outcome
And they celebrated it too

“Terrorism’s” easy to carry out
When it’s the only goal in life
When every fiber in one’s being
Is Hell Bent to Cause Such Strife

What kind of religious fanatics are they
Who are driven only by Hate
“WELL IT’S TIME NOW, AMERICA”
“WE MUST HELP THEM MEET THEIR FATE”

Michael Christopher Daly 9/11/2001

The Station

“THE STATION”

As a young lad, I was drawn
To the Parnell Street Station
It was a busy place, with people
from all around the Nation

Porters to help with the luggage
Kept up a hectic pace
With Taxi’s lined up outside
to take you to any place

I used to work my way in
to get close to a train
There was that traveling smell
that massaged my brain

I cannot explain it
but it was everything to me
As I imagined the great trains
even crossing the Sea

Sure I would be traveling
with luggage as well
With money , no object
and stories to tell

I could stay there all day
if , I was left alone
But there was always some “Biddy” shouting
“Gowawn Kid”, “Gesh Away Home”

As a child, it was my getaway
that children always crave
When money’s kinda tight
with nary enough to save

But I traveled the World
In my first year as a teen
Sneaking into that train station
so as not to be seen

As my mind would take over
and the “All Aboard” was heard
I was off to a new World
Where My Dreams were deferred

Michael Christopher Daly Jan 8, 2001

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