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Tuesday, December 1, 2015

"A Different Christmas Poem"


 The embers glowed softly, and in this dim light
I gazed round the room and cherished the sight
My wife was asleep, her head on my chest
My daughter beside me, angelic in rest
Outside the snow fell, in a blanket of white
Transforming the lawn to a winter delight.

* * * * *

The sparkling lights in the tree, I believe
Complete the Magic that is Christmas Eve
My eyelids were heavy, my breathing so deep
Secure and surrounded by Love, I would sleep
In perfect contentment, or so it would seem
So slumbered, perhaps, I started to dream.

* * * * *  
The sound wasn't loud and it wasn't near
But I opened my eye when it tickled my ear
Perhaps just a cough, I didn't quite know
Then the sound of footsteps, outside in the snow
My Soul gave a tremble, I struggled to hear
And I crept to the door to see who was near.

* * * * *

Standing out in the cold and the dark of the night
A lone figure stood, his face weary and tight
A Soldier, I puzzled, some twenty years olde
Perhaps a Trooper, huddled here in the cold
Alone in the dark, he looked up and smiled
Standing watch over me, my wife and my child.
 
* * * * *

"What are you doing?"I asked, without fear
"Come in this moment, it's freezing out here
Put down your pack, brush the snow from your sleeve
You should be at home, on a cold Christmas Eve!"
For barely a moment, I saw his eyes shift
Away from the cold and the snow blown in the drifts.

* * * * *

 He looked to the window ~
that  danced with a warm fire's light
Then he sighed and he said, "It's really all right."
"I'm out here by choice, I'm here every night
It's my Duty to stand at the front of the line
That separates you from the Darkest of times."

* * * * *

"No one had to ask, beg, or implore me
I'm Proud to stand here, like my Father's before me
My Gramps died in Europe, on a day in December
Then he said,"That's a Christmas Gram always remembers"
I've not seen my own son in more than a while
But my wife sends me pictures, he's sure got her smile.
 * * * * *

Then he bent down and carefully pulled from his bag
The Red, White, and Blue, American Flag
"I can live through the cold and the being alone
Away from my Family, my house and my Home
I can stand at my post, through the rain and the sleet
I can sleep in a foxhole, with little to eat
I can carry the Weight of killing another
Or lay down my Life, with a Sister and Brother
Who Stand at the Front with Any and All
To Ensure for all Time ~ this Flag will not fall."

* * * * *

"So go back inside, he said, harbour no fright
Your Family is waiting and it'll be all right"
"But isn't there something I can do, at the least?"
"Give you money," I asked, or prepare you a feast?"
It seems all too little for all that You've done
For being away from your wife and your son"
Then his eye welled a Tear, that held No regret
"Just tell us you'll Love us, and Never Forget."

* * * * *

"To Fight for our Rights back at Home, while we're gone
To Stand your own Watch, no matter how long
For when we come Home - either standing or dead
To Know you Remember- we fought and we bled
Is Payment enough, and with that we will Trust
That we mattered to you, as you mattered to us.

* * * * *

~ Christmas will be coming soon and much credit
is due to our Service Men and Women, for our being able to celebrate
these Festivities.
Let's pay a bit of what we owe...
As a People, and as a Nation ~
stop and think of our Heroes, living and dead,
who sacrificed themselves, for us.
Remember, the greatest thing we can do
for our Men and Women, in Uniform,
is to pray daily for their safety
and the end to hostilities.
We must pray for their Families
who are also making
sacrifices, for us.  
+
~Merry Christmas! 

~Beannaichte'
1 December, 2015


SemperFi

@beannaichte.twitter.com

Monday, November 30, 2015

" What It Means to Me to Be Irish"

                   To be proud of our history, our culture and our music.
                   To love our language, but not go to any trouble to learn it or speak it among ourselves.
                   To be slightly embarrassed at the more maudlin of our ballads, but to like them all the
                    same.
                   To be glad your antecedents survived the Great Famine.
                   To love talking, telling stories and gossiping.
                   To want to know who everyone you meet is, who they're related to, and to poke your
                    nose into their business.
                   To love mixing and drinking, and mixing and mingling.
                   To have a small inferiority complex, because we're a small country.
                   To be proud of the achievements of our people in sports and arts and entertainment,
                    because we're such a small country.
                   To sometimes begrudge the success of our neighbours, because we think they're
                    "losing the run of themselves".
                   To smile and be happy, even in adverse circumstances.
                   To distrust and often mislead authority, because we still have issues with our
                     colonial past.
                   To stay in the pub until the publican finally throws us out.
                   To feel a little uneasy with wealth, because we're not used to it, and maybe it
                    won't last anyway.
                   To be very generous with charities and poor nations, abroad.
                   To think we are the smartest, wittiest, open-minded nation on earth, bar none.
                   To be surprised when visitors tell us how witty, smart and open-minded we are.
~ John Collins
Waterford, Ireland
~ Copyrighted material; November of 2015*

                   
   You can find John@Twitter.walkcork. 
~ Beannaichte'
30 November, 2015

Tuesday, November 17, 2015

"Postscript"



And some make the time to drive out west
Into County Clare, along the Flaggy Shore,
In September or October, when the wind
And the light are working off each other
So that the ocean on one side is wild
With foam and glitter, and inland among stones
The surface of slate-grey lake is lit
By the earthed lightning of a flock of swans,
Their feathers roughed and ruffling, white on white,
Their fully grown headstrong-looking heads
Tucked or cresting or busy underwater.
Useless to think you'll park and capture it
More thoroughly.  You are neither here or there,
A hurry through which known and strange things pass
As big soft buffetings come at the car sideways
And catch the heart off guard and blow it open.  
~Seamus  Heaney
Ireland
~Beannaichte'
 17 November, 2015
@beanaichte.twitter.com

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

"Celtic Wisdom"

May the Light of your Soul Enlighten you,
May all your Worry and Anxiousness
About becoming older be Transfigured. 

May you be Given Wisdom with the Eye of your Soul,
To see this Beautiful Time of Harvesting.

May the Commitment to Strengthen your Goals,
Heal what has Hurt you;
To Allow it to come Closer to you,
And Become One with you.

May you have Great Dignity,
And have a Sense of how Free you are.

May you Above All know of
The Wonderful Gift of Meeting the Eternal Light,
And the Beauty that is Within You.

May you Ever be Blessed and Find,
Love in Yourself and All you Encounter.

~John O'Donohue
<<+>>
Ireland

~Beannaichte'
28 October, 2015

@beannaichte.twitter.com

~In Loving Memory of our Mother; <<<+>>>, One of His Own Flock.
 We Remember...We Remember.