Sean O’Airchinneach

Seán spends approximately six weeks in Ireland each year and considers himself a true seed of hÉireann. He has written over three thousand poems (most with an Irish theme) and over a hundred short stories. Three months ago he  finally decided to offer some for publication. Two have been accepted by Strukturriss and Crossways.

 

Irish Ties

When I am tired and weary
Nostalgia fills my head
I journey to an Irish place
From the confines of my bed

Where ancient queens and sweet cailíní
Gift me with their smile
And I am roaming endlessly
Across dear hÉreann’s isle

There I ramble in the woods
Into the faerie dells
See natures gift of fallen leaves
Sense wet and earthy smells

Hear the babbling of the waters
Of the cool life- giving streams
Enclosing magic places
Where lovers dream their dreams

In magic woods, in grasses tall
And in the hidden glades
There is an air of sadness
As the year begins to age

Soft spring gave birth to its bright buds
That kind summer nurtured through
And now it’s wistful Autumn’s time
To bring its colours into view

Bogha Ceatha* shows its beauty
As it has from days of old
And there are leaves of burnished bronze
With browns and greys and gold

When it’s winter’s turn to own the woods
It will transform the scene
Strip all remaining leaves away
Leave bare branches where they’d been

The beauty of the winter snow
And the glistening icy ponds
Replacing reeds and flowers
With frost-coated sylvan fronds
These things engender deep in me
A longing in my soul
To meet my ancient kith and kin
And share a steaming bowl

I see us meeting in the woods
On a freezing misty day
Céad míle fáilte *
One of my kin will say

Come join us round our fire
Huddle close as one
Two thousand years will disappear
When all is said and done

It is Irish ties that bind us all
That matter in the end
One tribe swapping stories
As each other’s wounds we tend

The six colours of the Ollabhs* cloak
Proclaim his mastery
Lesser bards sit with the clan
To hear of Ireland’s history

In poetry and mournful songs
The days long gone recalled
All that makes the Irishry
Leave us wide-eyed and enthralled

When last rays of fading light
Withdraw to other climes
We rise to greet an Irish moon
And sing of olden times

We dance with wild abandon
Cling close to beat the cold
And swap our Celtic kisses
For rings of Irish gold

When our limbs cry out for sleep
The Ollabh bids us rest
We wend our way to simple homes
As birds go to their nest
We will shelter from icy chills
In caves of rock and earth
Those cave walls will record the tales
Of life and death and birth

I will share with my Irish blood
Their struggles day by day
And when my life has run its race
With them I’ll gladly lay

© 2020 Sean O’Airchinneach