Paul Ryan, a resident of Louth, with a poem from his collection.
Dún Dealgan
I don’t yearn to see a heaven
I don’t fear a fiery hell
I won’t waste another minute
On the falsehoods that they sell.
And when my time arrives
And my final furrow ploughed
Just set my spirit free
On the nearest silver cloud.
Let me gaze from way up high
At this land I hold so dear
Hoping with all hope
It won’t shed another tear.
Let me float o’er Dublin Bay
And relish Ireland’s Eye,
The Hill of Howth in summer
As it reaches for the sky.
Let me drift my way out Westward
To the City of the Tribes,
Watch salmon heading upstream
From Atlantic’s foaming tides.
The Rebel County’s beauty
To the South I’ll get to see,
Majesty and splendour
On both sides of the Lee.
Heading north to Belfast
The air a little chill
I’ll be warmed to witness Peace,
Alive and thriving still.
And if the wind should cease
I hope when I look down
I’m gazing over Dundalk,
The jewel in Eire’s crown
I don’t fear a fiery hell
I won’t waste another minute
On the falsehoods that they sell.
And when my time arrives
And my final furrow ploughed
Just set my spirit free
On the nearest silver cloud.
Let me gaze from way up high
At this land I hold so dear
Hoping with all hope
It won’t shed another tear.
Let me float o’er Dublin Bay
And relish Ireland’s Eye,
The Hill of Howth in summer
As it reaches for the sky.
Let me drift my way out Westward
To the City of the Tribes,
Watch salmon heading upstream
From Atlantic’s foaming tides.
The Rebel County’s beauty
To the South I’ll get to see,
Majesty and splendour
On both sides of the Lee.
Heading north to Belfast
The air a little chill
I’ll be warmed to witness Peace,
Alive and thriving still.
And if the wind should cease
I hope when I look down
I’m gazing over Dundalk,
The jewel in Eire’s crown
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