Poem of the month, March 2014: Good Old Dublin


(not previously published)

Hop on and hop off –
the musical bus driver
takes us everywhere.

The apparition
of these faces in the crowd
pebbles on a beach. 

Dublin’s fair city
where the girls are so pretty –
goes the old ditty.

Welsh rugby fans
take to the streets like buffaloes
in bright red T-shirts.

Above the traffic
sunlight paints the upper half
of handsome buildings.

People packed into
eateries and snuggeries
talking and talking.

A billion voices –
in the Chinese restaurant
we are in China.

Saint Stephen’s Green –
one tree in particular
captures my fancy,

its spectacular
sunlit leafless crown swaying
in all directions.

A bench in the sun –
eminently huggable
wintery old elms.

The Chester Beatty
Library – Kuan Yin nestling
among the bibles.

Celtic heritage –
the bronze weapons of heroes
and their womenfolk.

The declaration
of Irish independence –
tears stream down my cheeks.