The spoken version of “Suite of Songs for Saint Brigid, February 2013 AD”
A long time had passed. When asked
the King could only thus reply,
“Brigid? Oh yes! I knew her well.
She was, she was, let me tell you,
some woman. Oh yes, some woman!”
He thought again, remembering.
“When she asked, I promised.
‘The ground beneath my cloak’, she said.
Her cloak that grew to the grazing
of even twice two hundred cows!”
The folk of whom I am bred
of her still say
as always they said
This is her well
on her Holy Day
This is the bush
where she knelt
Here we hang cloths of red
that the young may return
whence they have fled
These are dark green rushes
we gather together
from wet wasteful lands
These we weave in the shape
of her cross
with prayerful hands
Over the door they hang
that safe from fire
our house may last
Outside over the byre
they protect the beasts
from sickness and harm
Always and ever, above the rest
we will seek
we will take
waters of the well
that she has blessed.
Born of slaves, yet blessed at birth,
in turn she blessed so many,
always seeing their inner worth.
Babies, young infants, the troubled
children from suffering homes,
for these her prayers were doubled.
Blacksmiths, mariners, fugitives,
chicken farmers, dairy workers,
to all these her prayer she gives.
Workers at our printing presses,
along with midwives and dairy maids
are but some she daily blesses.
Boatmen, watermen, travellers
as they go their various ways,
these she protects, they too are hers.
For scholars turning learned books,
for poets she had such loving time,
her hands hold the hands of my friends,
and when moved to write, of mine.
The old people said… illness runs in families. They knew who was likely to have heart or lung disease, …
Like lab rats racing we are on the treadmill of history, forever chasing the illusion of progress, from …
3 Public Parks, USA On Boston Common the squirrels are shy, darting away, barely visible, ready to ambush the …
Old scars Dead men tell no tales but old scars do. Each one begins in violence then settles over time …
Here be keyboard warriors Riding across the Great Plains of Qwerty they are masters in the saddle. Words become …
It’s not often you get a chance to get so close to whales, dolphins or even seals in their natural …
Normal People lead normal lives and have perfectly ordinary people all around them. They are never troubled and bad things …
(ii) In the footsteps of the Knights Templar “Where are you looking for?” “Well, I’m walking to the Hook …
The Wexford Coastal Path Chapter Three (i) The lost treasure of Dollar Bay …