Scientists were first awakened to the theory of ‘Global Warming’ for the first time here in Ireland, following the destruction of Ballynonty Bridge, near Thurles, in August of 2008.
Well that is, with ‘Tongue in Cheek’ I might add, according to local Ballynonty poet and historian Gerry Cullen; latter who regularly records such significant district occurrences in rhyme.
In fact if you are looking for someone to write a poem about any topic, be it related to matters humorous or material required of a more serious nature, then look no further than this Ballynonty resident lyricist; Tipperary’s answer to the late great Lancashire born poet Robert Service, (1874 – 1958).
(Pictured left Gerry’s serious poetic reflection on Tipperary road traffic accidents, first published and cut in stone at the wonderful Ballynonty Garden of Remembrance back in 2012.)
Anyway back to the topic of Global Warming; hereunder recorded for future generations, the demise of the bridge in Ballynonty, with a veiled environmental warning to each and every resident of this our planet.
(From the pencil of Gerry Cullen.)
The weather is gone wallop and the seasons out of whack,
We’re heading for disaster and down a one way track,
We’ll have to face the music or wise up and be smart,
Or the bridge in Ballynonty will only be the start.
Twas like a big tsunami or the floods in New Orleans,
Or back when Noah built the ark to save the human beings,
But nothing ever read or seen has caused the jaw to drop,
Like the bridge in Ballynonty near Alice Perry’s shop.
The clouds grew dark; the deluge came; the rain was strong and fast,
The stream became a torrent and the bridge just couldn’t last.
The flood flowed down Slieveardagh’s slopes and the dark night turned to day,
And then at dawn, in turmoil, the battered road gave way.
For weeks we’ve taken detours and the moods have struck us all,
And we suffer from depression tryin’ to get to Killenaule,
The “Powers that Be” are out in force; no opening day as yet,
(A week, a month, a year or two, I wouldn’t hold my breath.)
And years into the future the people will recall,
How the curse of “Global Warming” damn nearly took us all.
Don’t prod and poke at nature; we have to stop and think,
For living life the way we do, has brought us to the brink.
Sure you never know Gerry might share some more of his poetry with us into the future. There is, I hasten to add, talks of a limited edition book of poetry shortly to be published, which is eagerly awaited by the many lovers of his localised thought-provoking verse.