Sandymount
Strand
Inch by inch creeps in the flowing tide
Around the smiling bay on every side.
Then day by day it gently ebbs away,
For sun and moon will never let it stay.
Wave after
leaping wave, on a windy day
White horses dance and prance in the stormy bay.
To and fro, on their boards wind-surfers waft
With energy and skill their flying craft.
Here and there
small children play on the strand.
Castles are built, and rivers are dammed with sand.
From near and far bright shells are picked with care,
Or maybe a football match is played out there.
Hot or cold,
there’s always water here
In which to paddle or swim without much fear.
Back and forth and twisting in the sky,
Multicoloured kites are made to fly.
Line by line,
when the weather’s warm and fine,
On the sunny seats it must be reading time.
Old and young enjoy the fresh sea air
In buggy, pram or maybe their own wheel-chair.
Hand in hand,
on the strand the couples walk,
Or face to face, or arm in arm they talk.
While hour by hour, past the old Martello Tower,
The joggers run and test their muscle power.
Wet or fine,
in the rain or hail or snow
It’s time for the daily doggie-walkers’ show.
Hither and thither their pets dash to and fro
To fetch the soggy doggy balls they throw.
Winter and
summer, on dark and stormy nights,
Ships are guided home by the lighthouse lights.
Baily, Kish, Dun Laoghaire and Poolbeg
Safely see them on their final leg.
Seen and unseen,
underneath the mud
Are worms and shellfish– tasty birdie food.
Again and again, the bird songs do not pall,
Piping turnstone or curlew’s plaintive call.
Black and white,
the oystercatchers wait,
Probing, with orange bills, for tasty bait.
Large and small waders of every kind
Search in the mud to see what they can find
Years after
year from their Arctic breeding ground
Hundreds of Brent geese hungrily feeding are found,
Sweet and sour to them is the green eelgrass
Which at low-tide is found on the shore en masse.
From dawn to
dusk the sky is full of changes,
From sunrise red, to blue or dark it ranges,
Clouds black or white or grey, and then at night,
If the sky is clear, the silver moon shines bright.
If east to
west, or north to south we go
To mountain top or wooded valley low,
For mile after mile throughout our lovely land,
No place is quite as good as Sandymount Strand.
By Eric H. De Courcy
Blue
eyes
When first I saw those eyes of blue,
They always seemed to smile,
Clearer than a crystal,
Your smile made life worth while.
I saw the love light in those eyes,
So honest and so true,
I couldn’t help but fall in love
With eyes of heavenly blue,
Should sadness ever once appear?
Into those eyes of blue,
Unhappy would my poor heart be,
That’s my concern for you.
Don’t ever let the sparkle fade,
From out those eyes so just,
They speak to me in many ways,
In them I’ll always trust.
Tears may fall from eyes sincere,
And roll down dimpled cheeks,
Could bring both joy and sadness,
No words could ever speak.
Remember eyes so true so blue.
I will always love you so,
From the start you stole my heart,
And I’ll never let you go.
The years may pass and we all grow old,
My love for you will never decline,
Throughout married life you were a loving wife,
And you’ll be in my heart till the end of time
By Sonny
Kinsella, written for his wife Mary who died in December 1961
As
always, we welcome contributions to
The Poetry Place, which can be sent to the
‘NewsFour’ offices at 15 Fitzwilliam Street,
Ringsend, Dublin 4.
newsfourscs@eircom.net
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