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Francis Duggan Apr 2010
It's Friday evening from life's cares we'll have a brief leave taking
And lets go to the Basy Pub for hour of merry making
In confines of the Settlers Bar the voice of mirth is ringing
And Pete Atkinson from Dublin Town an Irish song is singing.

The Mckelvey men father and son are talking of horse racing
They know the horses inside out from form and race card tracing
Has Vo rogue gone over the hill, can Horlicks race to glory
Can Almaarad come bouncing back and go down in history?

Phil Cronin go back down the years he flick back through life pages
To friends he knew in Millstreet Town he has not seen for ages
Big Jerry Shea and Mister O, James Manley hale and hearty
And Johnny Sing from Millview Lane the life of every party.

Brave Harry the brave English man the one as tough as leather
You'll only see that man in shorts no matter what the weather
A man of elephantine strength yet gentle and kind hearted
And he has taken life's hardest blow since his son this world departed.

Big **** Kissane the Kerry man he doesn't like Maggie Thatcher
And he feels that for Union bashing that few in history could match her
Still he won't go back to Kenmare to weather wet and hazy
He'd much prefer Mt Evelyn it's nearer to the Baysy.

**** Kelleher and Phil Schofield well into greyhound breeding
They talk of how greyhounds should be schooled and for them proper feeding
Two greyhound trainers and of late their reputations growing
And Millstreet Town keep racing on when others dogs are slowing.

Vin Schofield a Manchester Man he does love Man United
And every time United win he feel proud and delighted
But United not doing well of late of late they're not impressing
And this too much for him to take he find it all depressing.

Galway's Matt Duggan and Westmeath's Sean Fay the hurling game debating
On the first sunday of September who will be celebrating
Can Westmeath make the big break through or will Galway flags be waving
Or will Tipperary still be champs their reputation saving?

And Marty Kerins from Mayo a good and happy fellow
I've never met him in bad mood I've always found him mellow
He love the Bayswater Hotel he say there is none better
And to be kept from Settlers Bar he'd have to be in fetter.

And **** O Shea from Dublin his friends are in the many
And he doesn't have one enemy and he doesn't deserve any
He's given homes to Homeless souls and he's easily moved to pity
And good a man as ever came to live in this great City.

The amazing J D Ellis his name and fame keep spreading
And he has bounced back from the floor and for the top he's heading
Still he is easily stirred up and Garry Carter does the stirring
And el tigre he begins to growl the cat's no longer purring.

It's friday evening from life's cares we'll have a brief leave taking
And where better than the Basy Pub for hour of merry making
In Confines of the Settlers Bar the voice of mirth is ringing
And Pete Atkinson from Dublin Town an Irish song is singing.
Simon Clark Aug 2012
I know we won't replace,
The vacant hole you once embraced,
Our hearts were full and solid gold,
Now there’s sadness and bitter cold,
You gave us love, you gave us time,
Beside us through every fall and climb,
Words can never explain the tears,
We cry now for the wasted years…

…years…

…years…

The many times we had laughed,
The emptiness can’t hope to halve,
And yet I can’t help but reflect upon,
The days and weeks and times; long gone,
But in my memory, that secret place,
Is the joy and magic I can trace,
Those times that only I can share,
With you, myself – a connection so rare…

…rare…

…rare…

Though now your soul is far away,
We’ll have thoughts of you each passing day,
Of superman at Christmas and Guinness for a saint,
The scolding of Tim Henman, that passionate complaint,
The stories of Las Vegas, and of the times we shared in France,
Will light up all our broken hearts and the mind can have its dance,
You were a special lady, we don’t want to release,
But I know that you are with us and your body is at peace…

…peace…

…peace…

(This poem was written in memory of my Nan, An Cronin.  R.I.P.)
written in 2009
Alex McQuate Apr 2018
Cronin and Richrath accompany me on this trip,
Driving down this stretch of 75,
Driving amongst the clouds and mountains of the Blue Ridge,
Giving off a soft yet intense tune.

The sun has just set,
Giving the sky a odd dark hue,
The rumbling of the jeep is a constant,
Sounds from the old engine almost giving the song certain cues.

The wind ripping through the open cabin,
Tearing at clothes and hair,
The howling it gives off,
Fails to drown out Cronin's cries,
Of his personal philosophy he sings.

Better the brutal truth than a shocking revelation of betrayal,
Hands gripping the steering wheel tighter,
Driving to destiny,
A better future awaits.

Driving to destiny
Being Kind- REO Speedwagon
fakefool Dec 2012
Waterloo bridge
Vehicles come and go
Myra Lester
Wanders to and fro
The past be not here
The mind goes nowhere

Deafening horn
Warns inches to go
Grating howl
Crys with a blow
Sky tears through the air
Weeps the world or hell

Waterloo bridge
River flows east below
Roy Cronin
Stands feels for her soul
Water chants to tell
Much to hear or bear

by Shun
Samm Marie Aug 2016
There's unslept in sheets
That don't wrinkle on the corners
The alarm clock flashes
Because after that storm
The one where you left
And didn't come back
I never reset the numbers
There's a worn copy of
Cronin's The Passage
And a sheet of paper
Quoting the fifth installment of
Hopsin's ill mind
There's a letter on your pillow case
That I've rewritten 30 times
Reminding you that I still want you
Reminding me you're not home
And the foot of your side of the bed
Is your clothes
Folded from before the storm
With you car keys on top
Still untouched
Because I can't bring myself
To let go

— The End —