when time it comes
and sure it will
just lay me down by
Mullins Mill
aside the Barrow Banks
no fuss to make
just blend my ashes
with the deep brown flow
for ducks to paddle through
a might confused
past villages and townlands
we loved so much
where our children played
and castles sought
amongst the cow dung
and the poppies red

do make no fuss

by then I shall be
in other climes
where pain no longer rules
and herons fish
below the weirs
and haw thorn thrive
on boggy banks
and bitter fruit
defy the picking

some do scoff
in faint belief
where I may be
henceforth
but take no heed
of those
who feign belief
just hope
when their time comes
they do believe
and stroll along these wondrous paths
where fuscia grow
and wild vermilion thrive
and no hurt can
pain us more

just scatter
with a simple prayer
goodbye

and watch
the swans
sore north
from whence
I came

06/05/2015