Dixie Elliot ✊with a poem.

Volunteer Kevin Lynch


You Closed Your Weary Eyes On Life.

Long is the road that brought me here,
to this your place of rest.
A road not measured by distance,
but by each passing year.
Our paths last crossed in that dark place,
where wretched men dared to dream, my friend.
We dared to dream of better times,
but those dreams were often fleeting.
And the nightmare saw no end.
♞♜♝
I see the towering pine, where raucous crows disturb the serenity of thought.
And on the hill a standing stone;
a sentinel of the ages, of a time that time forgot.
They are now, as they had been
They are as you had known.
So too the ancient hawthorn,
gnarled with bitter age and bent.
I hear harp strings weep,
weeping in the gentle breeze.
It's blind Ruairí Dall Ó Catháin's
sad lament.
For his slain clann, and their stolen land.
Taken in blood by the foreigner's hand.
♞♜♝
After seventy-one days on hunger strike,
you closed your weary eyes on life.
With your family at your side.
And the H-Blocks fell silent,
As the news was passed in whispered words, from cell to cell.
And shouted from block to block.
Brave Volunteer Kevin Lynch has died.
♞♜♝
And over the ridges of the thief's peak,
Benbradagh, a lone Falcon soared high and free.
The thud of hurl striking sliotar echoed
down through the years.
Echoing memories of that day in '72.
When you led the boys of Derry to All-Ireland Victory.
And the valley of the River Roe, where the
wild flower Finvola dreamed of love,
became a vale of tears.
A soft wind blew down Dungiven's Main Street, and sighed.
Brave Volunteer Kevin Lynch, has died.

Thomas Dixie Elliot is a Derry artist and a former H Block Blanketman.
Follow Dixie Elliot on Twitter @IsMise_Dixie

You Closed Your Weary Eyes On Life

Dixie Elliot ✊with a poem.

Volunteer Kevin Lynch


You Closed Your Weary Eyes On Life.

Long is the road that brought me here,
to this your place of rest.
A road not measured by distance,
but by each passing year.
Our paths last crossed in that dark place,
where wretched men dared to dream, my friend.
We dared to dream of better times,
but those dreams were often fleeting.
And the nightmare saw no end.
♞♜♝
I see the towering pine, where raucous crows disturb the serenity of thought.
And on the hill a standing stone;
a sentinel of the ages, of a time that time forgot.
They are now, as they had been
They are as you had known.
So too the ancient hawthorn,
gnarled with bitter age and bent.
I hear harp strings weep,
weeping in the gentle breeze.
It's blind Ruairí Dall Ó Catháin's
sad lament.
For his slain clann, and their stolen land.
Taken in blood by the foreigner's hand.
♞♜♝
After seventy-one days on hunger strike,
you closed your weary eyes on life.
With your family at your side.
And the H-Blocks fell silent,
As the news was passed in whispered words, from cell to cell.
And shouted from block to block.
Brave Volunteer Kevin Lynch has died.
♞♜♝
And over the ridges of the thief's peak,
Benbradagh, a lone Falcon soared high and free.
The thud of hurl striking sliotar echoed
down through the years.
Echoing memories of that day in '72.
When you led the boys of Derry to All-Ireland Victory.
And the valley of the River Roe, where the
wild flower Finvola dreamed of love,
became a vale of tears.
A soft wind blew down Dungiven's Main Street, and sighed.
Brave Volunteer Kevin Lynch, has died.

Thomas Dixie Elliot is a Derry artist and a former H Block Blanketman.
Follow Dixie Elliot on Twitter @IsMise_Dixie

No comments