Where is the pride in rebel hearts
In the bogs of Longford on ass carts,
sucked into the depths of bubbling
On burnt cheeks warmed by peat fires
And the best of us are here no more
but geese long flown to different shores
rooted now in fertile soil
common flower blown exotic wild.
As the rain and hail of St Patricks day
blows fear and faith in frozen faces
and the soil on roots of a weed
plants in us the seed….. of patriots
with hungry hearts but drunken heads
ask them then
where is the pride in rebel hearts.
© Dave Kavanagh @ daithiocaomanaigh.com