Best Skirling Poems

Look deep within these loosely-woven layers to find
primeval land with ocean, sky and wind entwined,
skilled hands and eyes of generations gone before
and peat smoke mingling with a sea mist on the shore.

In old and intricate design you may well sense
a solitary piper skirling a lament,
or...

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I was a torpedo, skimming the surface 
of the green summer sea; I was a mountain, 
touching the clouds at the summit, where 

Frozen ice-pools lay. I was a crumpet, soaking 
the butter of chat and cream tea. I was a musical 
note, a skirling...

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There was an awful caterwailing and clamour 
as the pipes filled up with air and swirled
today it was for an orange march
playing the protestain songs of inflamitary verse.

Many were the songs and events the piper was called to skirl
one day it would be dirges the...

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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...

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Ode to Autumn

Pumpkins on porches, crudely cut, ferocious faces
Wisps of white smoke melting into cold clear skies
Hands held as if praying, to crackling fireplaces
Odors of allspice waft from plump pumpkin pies

Cold swirling winds, skirling leaves in the lane
While a few golden stalwarts, in tall trees...

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O!  Slip in between!  The Dukes of Darkness,
In this cold part of the year!

The Baron of Night!
The Baron of Wind!
The Baron of Seeds!

When the Copper Trumpet
Bells out, bright and clear!

And men brood the quiet,
Men who have sinned,
And recall their dark deeds.

Is it fear...

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I have no more time left, for fleeing Sadness!
I have no time left for it, yet it comes…
‘Twas easy, once, to dive into war’s madness,
To hear brave pipes, and the beating of the drums…
I’ll not forget you this time, my Bright Darling!
We’ve loved a hundred...

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I.

The gales of Hell, they gust my soul; 
I shutter up in vain--
Cracked windows of my storm-rent brain,
Shuddering as wind-tides roll.
Rattling rhythms wrack my soul.

The wind-voice screeches out my name
With banshee-clarity and tone
Skirling, high-pitched, like a lone
Lover who slew herself in shame—
Wind-wraith woman howls my...

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I.

The gales of Hell, they gust my soul; 
I shutter up in vain--
Cracked windows of my storm-rent brain,
Shuddering as wind-tides roll.
Rattling rhythms wrack my soul.

The wind-voice screeches out my name
With banshee-clarity and tone
Skirling, high-pitched, like a lone
Lover who slew herself in shame—
Wind-wraith woman howls my...

Continue reading...