3/4/2026 for Green to the Gills Poetry Contest sponsored by Daniel Henry Rodgers - Form IV - Seadna
I heard an old Irish refrain rising to make my heart long, bringing me some kind of solace and kinship in a sad song. Tree climbing to where I belong - by God, I have Irish roots - Roddy McCorley, breathing my dead last breath in my boots. I’ll reunite with my sister - see her in heaven so sweet, buying fresh cockles and mussels, my Molly Malone to meet. But let us not rush to judgement - just like Tim Finnegan said, I’m not ready for the Devil. Don’t you decide that I’m dead.
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.