Author: Unknown
How I do wish to God
That I was two Dogs
Then we'd play together all day,
We'd run through the bog
A' chasing Green frogs
And rise the odd pheasant or hare.
We'd lie down together
To doze in the heather
To the hum of the bumblbees
We'd swim in the lake
Then have a good shake
And nibble away at our fleas.
The birds in the air
They'd not give a care
For the larks of two Dogs in a bog,
The fish in the streams
Could go on with their dreams
While myself and my mate had a snog.
And as the sun sets
With our panting breath
We'd run down the old boreen
Then we'd scratch and we'd paw
At the old master's door
And be fed 'til our bellies were pleased.
While we'd lie by the fire
We'd be truly admired
As our coats would shimmer and shine,
And on top of a dresser
Among some old treasures
An old cat might stretch out and whine.
To the tick and the tock
Of a Grandfathers clock
We'd be snoozing by half past ten
And early next morning
Without anyone scorning
We could do it all over again.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
Last summer, while out with my Dogs, I watched them play in the bog. It was such an entertaining sight to see them frolicking among the heather and wild flora, without a care in the world. So this "song" came to me like a bolt from the blue!
I ran home as fast as I could. Well you don't allways have a pen and paper handy.....Do You?
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Author: Unknown
Sheeps wool
Snarled on old blackthorn,
Brooks babbling
Through wind beaten bogs,
Whispering over boulders
Into dark deep pools,
Where speckled trout
Jump for flies,
On warm summer days.
Brilliant yellow gorse
In noontime sunshine,
Orchids in limestone cracks
Like veins in stone
In the blessed Burren.
The West of our land
Filled with bird's song,
Black, Collie dogs
At every gate
And donkeys' braes
Echoing through mountains.
And rain,
On a wind
that whispers in your ear,
This,
Is your land.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
I am living now in the west of Ireland and this is my picture of its rugged beauty.
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Author: Unknown
Forest rain
So appeasing,
Rushing torrent
Hear it breathing,
Sigh release
Softly speaking,
Source of solace
Touching souls
Those who listen.
See it splash
Leaf to leaf,
Watch it streaming
Down the timbers,
In mossy bark cracks
Quietly seeping,
In forest floor
Disappearing,
Secret streams
Search for rivers,
Sweetened waters
Slipping onwards
To the sea.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: Apr 2010
About this poem:
I would hope that the reader would expreience something sensuous and spiritual. The normal buzz of insects and birdsong fall quiet during a good refreshing down pour from the heavens, leaving only the unignorable patter of rain on the canopy and the breath of the wind that follows. To be alone in a great forest and experience this, is a privilage. If you listen, you will hear it speak! Maybe you can hear it now?
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This is a list of Wandering_Aengus's Poems. Click here for Wandering_Aengus's Poem List
Wandering_Aengus Poetry (3)