Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page
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The Poetry Corner
The Irish Examiner USA
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or, preferably, you can email it direct to
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If possible keep your poem to 20 lines. You may choose any subject you like, in any form you like as long as it's original. We look forward to hearing from you. |
The Christian name of the author of this week's poem fascinated me. Apparently in the days of The British Empire it was customary for military personal to name their children after their regimental commander. In this case an Irishman serving in The Boer War stuck to the rules and in good Irish tradition the name was handed down through the generations.
Redvers McGrath shares with us his feelings on returning to Garryvoe Co. Cork after a long absence. The sentiment he express will undoubtedly strike a familiar chord with the older generation.
Garryvoe Memories
I came home from a foreign land to walk my native shore.
Where I had left as a boy so many years ago.
The memories of those happy days comes flowing back to me.
I see my mother on the strand in Garryvoe looking out to sea.
My brother and my sister, how plainly I can see
Them playing on the stand and swimming in the sea.
My father's boat comes in to view we run to give 'a hand
To drag the boat half full with fish up on to the strand.
My mother would come marching down with baskets in her hand
And send us off to sell the fish to people on the stand.
I walk to where the old folks meet so many years ago.
The old thatched cottage, and humped back bridge are gone forever more.
And in their place a Grand Hotel stands proudly by the shore.
A little boy walked up to me and caught me by the hand
Are you lost sir? he said to me this is Garryvoe Strand.
I marvel at his innocence, how could he understand.
That I too, long, long ago talked to strangers on this strand.
I turn to go but I'm not sad but for in his eyes I see
That he some day will come back home to Garryvoe like me.
© Redvers McGrath
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