Not Easy Being Irish
Sometimes…
I feel emotions so deeply in my heart
That I almost wish I wasn’t Irish.
That sometimes to feel happiness,
Sadness…and yes…e’en pain
So intensely
That at times It’s a curse and
At others a blessing, a boon and a bane
To suffer such bittersweet pleasure
From music, poetry…and pain
Sometimes…
My heart aches
At the bright break of dawn
And tears rain down my cheeks
At the sight of the setting Sun.
And many are the times that weigh
Heavy ‘pon this old poet
When the pen cannot capture
The words that caper capriciously
Through this ol’ sodden mind of mine
Sometimes…
The beauty and the sadness, the long dark tresses
And bewitching eyes of Irish lasses
The wonder and the madness
Overwhelm, defy and defeat an Irishman’s
Best efforts…in truth
Ne’er known in this life
Oftimes…
The skirling of the pipes
And the sad wail of the flute
Rend my heart with renditions
Of ‘Amazing Grace,’ ‘Oh Danny Boy,’
And ‘Auld Lang Syne’
Yet my pen is unable
And lies stubborn ‘pon the table
Unwilling to put my feelings to paper
Sometimes…I harbour passions
That elude my ability to describe
And sometimes…It’s just hard to be Irish…
A burden
…To be Irish and unable to write…
Copyright © David O'Haolin Whalen | Year Posted 2015
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