Poetry « Thurles Information

Brief Beauty

Brief Beauty

© Author & Poet Tom Ryan.

Be beautiful for the moment,
Like the cherry blossom flower.
Enchanting, undaunted,
For a brief and lovely hour.
And, as pink blossom petals fall
In the wind of a summer’s day,
Oh, be graceful for the moment,
Come what may, come what may.

End

Tom Ryan, “Iona”, Rahealty, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.

‘The Visit’ – A Poem From The Pen Of Tom Ryan

The Visit

© Author & Poet Tom Ryan.

“Her old eyes sparkled to salute our arrival
At the quiet chalet, where she in her ninetieth year and alone,
Was captive, held by time.
The laughing good natured girl held her in gentleness,
Directing her faltering steps to the waiting Nissan Sunny.
Earlier, by the embers of a turf fire dying,
She had indifferently sipped the lukewarm tea,
Watching in silence the ancient chestnut trees outside
Yield their sap to the ways of time,
Old and gnarled and bare.
She had prayed with her friends ‘The Rosary’,
For himself now years long gone,
And herself and all she loved,
And the good days, too, thank God,
As she, frail-fingered again and again
Old Holy Communion photographs.
Black and white and musty-dusty, faded now
Sweet in their wistfulness,
Like a long lost summer of youth.
On the shelf by the bed and the fire
The Virgin’s statue in stone.
Consolation.
In the emptiness of time.
Fading now the ever retreating memories
Hard days slaning the stubborn bog with himself,
Billycan tea in the warm, sweet meadows of high summer,
The giggles and laughter of a crossroads ceili do
By the Devils’ Bit hill in Barnane.
The joy of a long and dignified togetherness
In a quiet intimacy,
Things to sugar the tea of thought with now.
Her niece in the Nissan Sunny, she brightly felt,
Could smile like the sun and her mother.
Ah, little it mattered where they’d go,
‘Twould put a homely, decent hour or two
Between herself and the loneliness.”

End.

Tom Ryan, “Iona”, Rahealty, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.

Old Neighbour Dies – By Tom Ryan

Old Neighbour Dies

© Author & Poet Tom Ryan.

An old neighbour dies
Awakening childhood dreams;
Only yesterday we were boys,
Just an hour away it seems.

Grand old times renewed
At chapel and at wakes,
Time fast pursues
And always overtakes.

But on you go and on,
Cherishing the precious hour.
Life’s a weed some say,
But I figure it’s a flower.

END

Tom Ryan, “Iona”, Rahealty, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.

“My Name” – A Poem By Tom Ryan

My Name

© Author & Poet Tom Ryan.

They gave it to me with water and oil, blessing it from the beginning,
And I’ve carried it long through tear and toil and the times I have been winning.

It sets me apart from the rest you see, a cause of awe and pride,
And carries a great responsibility, for it’s always by my side.

It takes a beating now and then, and sometimes a little praise,
But I hope it’s the mark of a gentleman, who respects all human ways.

The ways of good and honest men of every creed and race,
It’s heard I hope in unison, with the swift and slow of pace.

‘Twas a gift from the ones I love so well, and I cherish it like a jewel,
And if I think not enough of it, you may go and proclaim me fool.

I shall carry it with me to the grave and until the ‘obits’ claim it,
I hope your displeasure you will save, for the day I go and shame it.

Perhaps it wont be remembered in time, but it shall not be recanted,
So, please, good folks you may use my name, but I’m damned if it’s taken for granted!

Tom Ryan, “Iona”, Rahealty, Thurles, Co. Tipperary.

“Suirside Carillon”, Poem By Tom Ryan

Suirside Carillon.
© Author & Poet Tom Ryan.

Oh, happy carillon and bells of my youth, by the river Suir now sounding,
How near and how dear to my heart’s truth, in quiet moments never-ending.

By Cathedral bell’s sound one day I was born,
Amid musical sounds of a river that sings in my heart
In moments forlorn and in my happiest moments ever.

To play and to school my life was to rule,
By the bells and the river determined; by green banks and bridge,
By the Ursuline school, my earliest life was thus fashioned.

And, however, how often I may wander away,
Be it near or far over the ocean, I shall hear in my mind
The bells peal and play their carols of happy emotion.

Carolling, carolling , carolling ever, always in tune with the song of the river,
Oh, bells of my heart and my home now ringing ever and ever sweetly singing.