Mar 2020
WILD WAVES CRASHING
ABOUT THE OLD HEAD OF KINSALE
I scramble
into your bed
like I'd do when I was 2
or four or more.
Rub your back for you
(you my 95 year old child )
until sleep gathers you in.
Just like you did for me
when I was your little boy.
I listen to you as slowly slowly
your dreams capture you.
I love your each and every breath.
And when you awake
two hours later
there I am
still rubbing your back.
You smile and tell me
your mother would do the same
when you were a tiny boy
waves crashing about the Old Head of Kinsale.
So here we all are
the backrubbers of the ages
all in the one place
sharing different times
comforting...soothing
easing all the pain
wild waves crashing about the Old Head of Kinsale.
ABOUT THE OLD HEAD OF KINSALE
I scramble
into your bed
like I'd do when I was 2
or four or more.
Rub your back for you
(you my 95 year old child )
until sleep gathers you in.
Just like you did for me
when I was your little boy.
I listen to you as slowly slowly
your dreams capture you.
I love your each and every breath.
And when you awake
two hours later
there I am
still rubbing your back.
You smile and tell me
your mother would do the same
when you were a tiny boy
waves crashing about the Old Head of Kinsale.
So here we all are
the backrubbers of the ages
all in the one place
sharing different times
comforting...soothing
easing all the pain
wild waves crashing about the Old Head of Kinsale.
"AHHHH SURE ISN'T IT SONNY DEMPSEY'S LITTLE BOY Y'ARE!"
And suddenly we were thrown back into the days of him being a young boy on the Old Head of Kinsale lying on his belly watching the waves crash against the shore in all their majestic fury. He so tiny and full of awe...somehow the year 1929 and something...had found him out again. Time had tracked him down to this one moment...the tale told over and over like a pebble smoothed with the telling....this motionless moment that time had to flow around. His mother calling his young name.... "Sonny...Sonny!" the terror in her voice for fear that like the stray sheep he would fall onto fearsome rocks below...the wind like a banshee in the sea caves. And running down the road to Mrs. Fitz who had the big and only gramophone like the ad for His Master's voice and tche black black shellac creating Over the Waves again and again...it's sheer beauty mesmerising the child's mind. And when in time it would shape shift into The Loveliest Night of the Year and he would balance being my father and that little boy of then and play his accordion or mouth ***** and sing in his Mario Lanza voice...."When you are in love...it's the loveliest night of the year" and I always in love with same telling of the tale....the wild waves of time crashing about us but unable to touch this one perfect moment of him being the little boy and me being his little boy and we both singing together...."Oh my heart starts to beat...like a child when it's birthday is near!" Oh the sheer treasure of him and I rich beyond all means just in possession of that shy smile of his and I proud as anything to be( as I would be anytime I was in Cork)" Ahhh sure isn't Sonny Dempsey's little boy y'are!" Never my name only that title that I will always wear.
And suddenly we were thrown back into the days of him being a young boy on the Old Head of Kinsale lying on his belly watching the waves crash against the shore in all their majestic fury. He so tiny and full of awe...somehow the year 1929 and something...had found him out again. Time had tracked him down to this one moment...the tale told over and over like a pebble smoothed with the telling....this motionless moment that time had to flow around. His mother calling his young name.... "Sonny...Sonny!" the terror in her voice for fear that like the stray sheep he would fall onto fearsome rocks below...the wind like a banshee in the sea caves. And running down the road to Mrs. Fitz who had the big and only gramophone like the ad for His Master's voice and tche black black shellac creating Over the Waves again and again...it's sheer beauty mesmerising the child's mind. And when in time it would shape shift into The Loveliest Night of the Year and he would balance being my father and that little boy of then and play his accordion or mouth ***** and sing in his Mario Lanza voice...."When you are in love...it's the loveliest night of the year" and I always in love with same telling of the tale....the wild waves of time crashing about us but unable to touch this one perfect moment of him being the little boy and me being his little boy and we both singing together...."Oh my heart starts to beat...like a child when it's birthday is near!" Oh the sheer treasure of him and I rich beyond all means just in possession of that shy smile of his and I proud as anything to be( as I would be anytime I was in Cork)" Ahhh sure isn't Sonny Dempsey's little boy y'are!" Never my name only that title that I will always wear.
