"There is a stone there, that whoever kisses, OH! He never misses, to grow eloquent" Author not mentioned at link to Blarney Stone - Blarney Castle
I walk the path amid the trees
Where footsteps even now are tread,
where ancient stones of Blarney please,
and lips upon the stone have wed.
Enchanting are the turrets here
bedecked in autumn's vines of red,
the little stream that wanders near,
and steps to where I'm being led.
The Blarney stone at last I see,
so bending backwards now to kiss
the stone, my friend is holding me.
That’s not a mark I want to miss!
I have a thought; I now can say
my mouth has touched where many more
have touched upon this stone of gray.
How many thousands came before?
Inside the marrow of my bones,
I feel a thrill . Will eloquence
be mine from having kissed this stone?
I feel a chill of reverence!
tis what happens when ya’ be kissin’ the Blarney Stone
although I never did~ they don’t wipe between kissers
and my wonderful wife said I didn’t need to~ my gift of gab comes naturally
In Cork’s old heart
As poetic whispers play,
This district thrives
And tales hold sway.
Oh, Blarney,
A place for words to craft and flow,
In the realm of stories,
As hearts jump and glow.
Upon a lofty fortress
Ancient and grand,
The rock of eloquence
A boon to the land.
Brushed by the daring
With audacious finesse,
Bestowing silver tongues
Through arresting address.
Mists caress the hills
And folklore breathes,
A dance with the arts
Inspiration seethes.
Whispers of fairies
Their muse in the air,
Guiding hands in crafts
With a tender care.
Within the tavern's haven
Here friendships ride,
Consuming fish and chips
Verses by the fireside.
The Blarney Stone's magic
In the artist's refrain,
This symphony of creativity
An unbridled domain.
To Blarney, we toast
Where poems takes flight,
In the domain of crafts
We set minds alight.
On St. Patrick's Day, old boozehound Barney
Howls grand Gaelic airs at a pub in Killarney
Place a strong stout at his paw
And he'll howl Erin go braugh!
Yes, County Kerry folk are given to blarney!
3/17/23
heading to Blarney Castel to get me some....
Cork, Ireland, here I come!
To give the Blarney Stone a kiss,
means I will be a more persuasive miss
I can hardly contain my joy, with my new blips
new flattery will gently flow from my lips.
I have always wanted the gift of gab.
It’ll be the best day when I meet the slab.
Blarney Castle, get ready to pucker up.
I am ready to change my luck and my cup.
Hold me upside down, let me give you a kiss.
I am going to Cork, hope I won't miss!
If your favorite color is green and of the Emerald Isles you dream, you might be Irish. If when you kissed the Blarney Stone you knew at las you were at home, you might be Irish. If you believe in leprechauns and fairies and hidden treasures that lay buried, you might be Irish. If you like your lasses bawdy and tell jokes a little naughty, you might be Irish. If you can dance an Irish gig and at the pubs the whiskey swig, you might be Irish. If your mom cooked an Irish stew and you just happen to be Catholic too, you might be Irish. If your last name is Fitz, Riley or O'Keefe, your most definitely Irish, good grief! If not then just for this one day, we'll say your Irish any way. Happy St. Patty's!
The Blarney Stone
It was a bucket list I had to fill
I puckered up and felt the chill
The stone was cold upon my lips
The ledge was hard beneath my hips
Within my head a bell had rung
And words were forming on my tongue
Stories for the young and old
Simply waiting to be told
A scrap of paper and a pen
I jot a line down now and then
In hopes someday someone will read
The gift of gab? A gift indeed
Blarney
Recall
With me
A time
Long passed...
Back when
Dragons'
Fame was
Ablaze ...
Knights would
Slay them.
Dwarves would
Cheat them.
No one
Loved a
Dragon.
Gossip
Spewed out
Far and
Swiftly;
Bounties
On their
Heads were
Posted.
So great
Was the
Murder
And fear,
Dragons
Took to
Hiding.
They hid
In caves
And in
Castles.
They hid
In the
Mountains.
They hid...
They hid...
They hid...
Still all
Were found---
Except
For one.
A gold
Dragon;
Fifty-
Four feet
Long and
Lawful.
He was
So just...
So good...
Genius
That could
Morph to
Human!
He could
breathe fire
And smoke...
Ah... but
No one
Loved a
Dragon.
The dwarves,
They stole
His gems,
His gold.
The knights,
So brave,
Took blood
And tooth;
Took head
And tail.
Yet, none
Could take
His heart...
Rivers
Are no
Longer
Crimson.
Fire and
Smoke are
Not seen...
But, deep
Below,
Blarney
Castle,
Near Cork,
The gold
Dragon
Still lives...
And will
Give the
Gift of
Blarney...
For just
A kiss!
© Deborah burch
12/11/2016
____________________________________
DUPLEX form (2 syllables per line)
I walk the path amid the trees
Where footsteps of the past have tread
Where ancient stones of Blarney please,
Where lips upon the stone are wed.
My roots run deep with Irish blood
and County Cork's where my folk hale.
There Blarney meets where tourists flood
to kiss the stone below the rail.
Enchanting are the turrets here
bedecked in autumn's vines of red,
the little stream that wanders near,
and steps to where I'm being led.
The Blarney stone at last I see,
so bending backwards now to kiss
the stone, my friend is holding me.
That’s not a mark I want to miss!
I have a thought; I now can say
my mouth has touched where many more
have touched upon this stone of gray.
How many thousands came before?
These ancient walls in ruin stand
With greater hist'ry than most know,
Yet still throngs yield to their command
In visitors that come and go.
Inside the marrow of my bones,
I feel a thrill . Will eloquence
Be mine from having kissed this stone?
I feel a chill of reverence!
For the Partner UP Contest of Shadow Hamilton: Theme: Castles
Finished 9/4/2015 By Connie Marcum Wong and Andrea Dietrich
I walk the path amid the trees
where footsteps of the past have tread.
Where ancient stones of Blarney please,
where lips upon the stone are wed.
My roots run deep with Irish blood
and County Cork's where my folk hail.
There Blarney meets where tourists flood
to kiss the stone below the rail.
Enchanting are the turrets here
bedecked in autumn's vines of red,
the little stream that wanders near,
and steps to where I'm being led.
The Blarney stone at last I see,
so bending backwards now to kiss
the stone, my friend is holding me.
That’s not a mark I want to miss!
I have a thought; I now can say
my mouth has touched where many more
have touched upon this stone of gray.
How many thousands came before?
These ancient walls in ruin stand
With greater hist'ry than most know,
Yet still throngs yield to their command
In visitors that come and go.
Inside the marrow of my bones,
I feel a thrill . Will eloquence
be mine from having kissed this stone?
I feel the chill of reverence!
Andrea Dietrich and Connie Marcum Wong
September 4, 2015
Partner up Contest Collaboration with Andrea Dietrich
Sponsor Shadow Hamilton
I suppose the prez is proud of his mealy-mouthed spokesman Carney.
('Carnies' are carnival touts famous for spewing a heap of blarney!)
I think I'm quite well-versed and understand the English language well
But when I hear his party-line spin on things, I get perturbed as hell!
Carney keeps spouting "No worries! Obamacare will not change a thing!"
That's lingo I comprehend, but, alas, that to which many gullible patsies cling!
Not surprising, it turns out to be piffle, fiddle-faddle and downright balderdash!
Alas, many folks are seeing sticker shock and their insurance coverage crash!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved
a didactic poem
When eloquence leaves you a’wanting,
if verbal effluence you’re flaunting,
should your audience appear daunting,
kiss the Blarney Stone.
I climbed the circular tower,
reached the hundred ninety-third step,
and waded through unhurried queue.
I trembled with anxiety,
gasped for ev’ry uncertain breath,
and paused to view but then I knew.
Hidden underneath the rampart
this infamous bluestone will rest
I shan’t pursue my lips on blue.
When commonsense says, “No way”,
if plain prudence seeks delay,
should consequence have its say,
pass the Blarney stone.
6
If I were a stone what one would I be?
I'd want to be one, everyone wants to see!
Like they would for a star,
folks would come from afar
just to visit the Castle and "ME"!
At Blarney Castle I would not be alone.
As a matter of fact, I'm very well known!
Visitors would be quite remiss,
to not plant a Kiss,
on "ME", the Ole Blarney Stone!
NOTE: Blarney Castle is located in
County Cork, Ireland. A Stone of
Eloquence is located in the castle
tower. Legend has it that if you
kiss the stone, you'll never be lost
for words! Thousands go there
every year to kiss the Stone!
I kissed it in July 1984!