Sons of Erin

Erin’s sons
For freedom fighting
Gray clad soldiers
Join the fray
Gladly strive
Tyrant’s yoke defying,

Erin’s sons
For freedom fighting
Blue clad soldiers
Join the fray
Gladly strive
Send traitors fleeing,

Glory seeking
Erin’s sons
Blood stirring
To battle march
Honor sends
A new home saving,

Fearsome warriors
Erin’s sons
Eerie cry
To daunt
And threaten
Ranks of foemen storming,

Erin’s sons
Meet other brothers
Each convinced of right
Mortal combat
Banshee wails
Sons of Erin dying,

Erin’s sons
For freedom fighting
Duty’s sacrifice
Is paid
Battles ended
In death uniting.

© 2019 Maggie Grimes

Over the centuries, the Irish have fought in many wars. They were fierce warriors and greatly feared. The armies of both North and South contained thousands of Irishmen. Whether bluecoated or gray, they were brave soldiers fighting for their homes and honor. MJG

Brigit’s Hands

Her hands are stories
Knotted with aged strength
Tales of labor, loving,
Her sweet face speaking
Tear-creased soft and laughing seamed
At peace in each day greeting,

Her hands are stories
Gentle with patient strength
Tales of labor, serving,
Her sweet face speaking
In family toils content
At peace in each day greeting,

Her hands are stories
Holding with enduring strength
Tales of labor, praying,
Her sweet face speaking
Serene in sustaining faith
At peace in each day greeting,

Her hands are stories.

© 2019 Maggie Grimes

Brigit, daughter of Dagda and Bres, was protector of women, of hearth and home.To all the women of strength through time, they raised us, taught us, loved us. May we continue to live their stories. MJG

Fionn MacCumhail

Finn has grown through ages
His tales
Extending
Enlarging
Feats of marvel
Compelling,
Giant
Against giant
Standing
‘Til reason
Cleared his vision
Marking disparities
Discretion changing valor,
Home remembered
And soon reclaimed
Trailing troubles
In his wake,
Wise Oonagh
Perceiving danger
Warmly welcomed
Hospitality homely,

Beware the woman
Whose home
And family threatened
Force no match for wit.

©2019 Maggie Grimes

When Finn realized that the Scottish giant Benandonner was so much larger than himself, he suddenly remembered an urgent matter at home. The giant followed. Finn’s wife Oonagh recognizing the problem took charge. She had Finn lie in bed where she covered him up to his neck. She covered an iron griddle with bread dough and set it to bake. When Benandonner pounded on the door, Oonagh invited him in. She apologized for the absence of her husband but reassured Benandonner that Finn would be home shortly. In the meantime, she offered him bread still warm from the baking. Yelling in pain on breaking several teeth on the iron laden bread, he had to suffer the scolding of an irate Oonagh for waking the babe. She points to the swaddled figure of Finn stirring in the bed. On seeing the massive size of the baby, Benandonner suddenly recalled a prior engagement and left. The motto of this story is, “Don’t let your mouth get you in trouble unless you have a wise woman to back you up”. There is actually a more colloquial way of saying it but it’s rude. MJG

The Dragon Rises

The dragon rises
Broken winged
And tattered
The mirrored scales
Tarnished
Dull are her
Jeweled eyes,

The dragon rises
Flame spent
And guttered
The proud crest
Ragged
Mute is her
Dulcet voice,

The dragon rises
Proud hearted
And undaunted
Her unconquered spirit
Free
Untamed is her
Wild soul,

The dragon rises.

© 2019 Maggie Grimes

Bard

The Old One wakes music stirring
His notes beckon to others reaching
Timeless youth his age masking,
The Old One plays music piping
His cadence speeds to start the dancing
Twining patterns his call heeding,
The Old One sings music soaring
His wild song speaks their hearts arousing
Embracing song shadows voicing,
The Old One frees music swirling
His magic shackled joy releasing
Forsaking time never ceasing,
The Old One wakes.

©2019 Maggie Grimes

What can I say, bards and music and Celtic magic. The photo is of my small bodhran, ancient drum of the Celts. MJG

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