Dunshaughlin,
Now and Again
On
Main Street, wide and welcoming, we walk,
engaged
in daily routine, the buying of groceries,
a
coffee-shop-stop, a commute to work on the 109,
M3
connecting once sleeping satellite to Dublin’s star.
These
are the fine school days of Indian Summer
of
the child’s treasure-trove leaves and blackberries,
of
the teenager returned to uniform, a gangly swan
barely
plumed learning to fly above shedding earth.
Queen
Maeve of Tara arrives at harvest,
her
skirt a moon-gown, from Kilmessan to Ratoath wide,
bodice
cut of Slane, Navan and Trim,
a
seasoned silk, a matrimony of now and then.
Peggy
Murphy writes here of Derrickstown Hill,
while
Tom Englishby crosses the Irish Sea in ballad,
the
passage a lamentation for his Dunshaughlin,
a
rowing back of black waters, a honeyed vision.
The
bell of Patrick and Seachnall rings the Angelus,
day
ending with clanging heard on the breeze
by
Kings of Lagore tending crannóg stone, and wood
of
home, Domhnach Seachlainn, a settled and holy place.
Foley’s
Forge relays this din of heartbeats, anvil struck,
shoed
horse clip-clopping from faded farms to mart,
and
colourful years, green and gold banners,
Sam
Maguire a boat on the crest of a wave.
Time
ebbs and flows, ripples veined in villages and lore,
exhumed
in the shadow of the famine land,
footstones
raised like shields across the Boyne Valley
past
Norman castles, Celtic Tiger, lingering pandemic.
Orla
Fay
It's wonderful to share my poem written under commission by Poetry Ireland for Poetry Town 2021. A recording of the poem and other pieces performed for Poetry Town and Culture Night can be found on Meath County Council's Youtube Channel here.
Congratulations to all the other artists and thanks again to Poetry Ireland, Meath County Council Arts Office and Meath Library Service for the opportunity. Thanks to Margaret McCann, local co-ordinator for Dunshaughlin Poetry Town, for her time and support.
