Melted languages
Languish a wild
Mix of black and white
Yellow and pink
Talking and whispers
He she they him it
Screaming and crying
Echoing songs in
our one tongue
Embracing our words
Our thoughts
Our dreams
Of wild nights
And mellow days
Wandering
And wondering
Where the end
Meets the line
Beyond the oceans
Grasp
Unreachable on the
Islands grass holding
Hands with nettles
Dancing round
Broken thorns
Of red cheeked roses
Cherishing bodhran
Hammered alcoholics
Bending notes from
Rusty harps
Dating polished fiddle
Players clay stained
Arthritic bows
Naked toes stripped
Of failed lusts
And forgotten play
And tender loves
And stolen rocks
Molten hearts
Swept in wind wild
Foam
The Atlantic yells
While the Irish Sea
Whines
Our nature to the west
Our sighs to the east
Our brethren to north
The beached sand south
Laments in glory
Slagging and shagging
Dragging and laughing
While beyond
In a turf bog vacuum
Death awaits but once
While in our smiles
Of misery or joy
The days slide behind
On the abacus of living
An infinite life ahead
Each breath a step
From wonder to
Beauty to wisdom
To who we are
Memories renewed
Of ancient celts
And wild hounds
And wooden boats
Of clay
Frankie writing of who it is to be Irish