Frankie Quinn with a poem from his book Open Gates.
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Lir
Beauty begrudged by stepmother
Aoife cursed innocence from lough shore to open sea
Three hundred times across heathered land,
King called out in hope
No answer came from baying stag
Nor golden eagle’s screech,
Wild swans stood transfixed
* *
Infant spirits haunted the Strait of Moyle
Roaming father searched enemy eyes
For a glimmer of guilt
Years waxed him smooth with age
While beside him hovered a treacherous love.
Selfish deeds brought destruction to gentle king
Baptism was death
For the new born cygnets’ human form.
⏩ Frankie Quinn is a former republican prisoner who is now a community activist. He is the author of Open Gates, a book of poetry.
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