Town Full of Hopes

An auld Covent watches over its town by shedding grey husk all over wondering to be once more found on the antipodes - across bygone graveyard not here neither lost stubbornly lasts between the stalks of overgrown grass from the shadows of Bremen's wings amidst the dreams of Osiris Mr. James Michael Christopher Fitzmaurice holds the town in his care as a bronze god on a marble chair and if you dare to step across the horizon go by the blue ribbon of a steel bridge as mighty Jason on a quest for a golden fleece which probably lies hidden deep beneath decrepit walls of an old fort keep funded by the order of Queen Mary a town full of hopes that floats throughout the current of dreams dreamed with the words of dozens of languages with one common expression Of home - Port Laoise