Sliabh Luachra's Narrow Roads
The narrow mountain road to Cladoch Valley
That winds it's way around the bracken hill
I still have little mental pictures of it
And I hear the rippling of the mountain rill.
The road from Gneeveguilla in east Kerry
That leads up the steep slope to Knocknagree
And winds it's way up to the higher country
The beauty of the landscape I still see.
I hear 'Denis the weaver' play his fiddle
The music comes to me from far away
One of the great traditional musicians
The memory of the man lives on today.
The by roads and the cross roads of Sliabh Luachra
Off of the main road towards Killarney from Rathmore
Around Barraduff and Shrone and the Paps country
Immortalized by the bards in days of yore.
People like the legendary Aogan O Rathaille
In Irish literature his an enduring name
It's been wrote he died whilst in his early fifties
He was the first to bring to Sliabh Luachra fame.
Eoghan Rua O Suilleabhain the great wit of rural Ireland
He led a very colourful career
He recited his poems at the cross roads in Sliabh Luachra
And the people came from miles around to hear.
The narrow roads that wind along the mountains
The gurglings of the upland streams and rills
The Paps of Shrone that overlook east Kerry
In Sliabh Luachra of the valleys and the hills.
Sliabh Luachra once the home of Irish culture
It's fame spread far distant from Erin's shore
And the poetry that went all around the world
Was first read at the crossroads near Rathmore.
Some say that the past can't be linked to the present
But as sure as there is a tomorrrow they are wrong
Our culture came from the past generations
And to the distant past our roots belong.
The narrow roads that wind around Sliabh Luachra
Along the valleys and by the bracken hills
And in the old home of Gaelic Irish culture
I hear the gurglings of the streams and rills.
Small Bald Johnny
He's been down and bruised and battered
And life has dished him out some pain
But like the great and champion boxer
He rose up and fought again.
Those who know him thought him beaten
Said that he had lost the fight
He could have given up the battle
And in so doing proved them right.
Lesser men by disease defeated
He could have stayed on the floor
But Small Johnny is no quitter
He rose up and fought some more.
Strong armed men have lost to cancer
Wilted when the going got tough
But Small Johnny the wee battler
Must be made of sterner stuff.
Bald as a babe from radiation treatment
He refuse to wear a wig
Some may smirk at Small Bald Johnny
But he's the biggest of the big.
See the small bald headed fellow
Briskly walking down the street
He'll be fifty one next April
And killer cancer he has beat.
Small Boy Grown Tall
I met a man I knew from years ago
He shook me by the hand and said hello
But would you believe me him I did not know
Years changes one and years changed Timmy Joe.
I felt embarrassed had to ask his name
I'm Tim Joe Ryan says he the very same
Timmy who was your pal in school going time
When we were young long years before our prime.
The man had changed in school days he was small
It seemed he'd not grow over five foot tall
But here he was now standing six foot four
Eight inches towering over me or more.
In school going days I'd four inches on him
He was the smallest in the class room Tim
He was so small so very small indeed
That the nickname we put on him was the weed.
Just goes to show how can one ever say
That the smallest boy in your class room today
Could not one day be the tallest one of all
And like Timmy Joe stand over six foot tall.
Small Town Upper Class
The so called elite of this small town may feel like upper class
But for the very ordinary in a bigger town they would pass
They have their social gatherings where one must be invited to attend
If one sees you as an enemy to none you are a friend
One might call them a cliche or call them what you may
But they do feel so conceited in their self important way
At their weekend invitation only dinners the small town talk is rife
One must feel a bit sad for them for their narrow outlook on life
The upper class of this town is their one claim to renown
But when all is said and all is done 'tis a small country town
But the upper class in a small town in the city with the upper class could not socialize
But then everybody looks at life through very different eyes
Where-ever you live in big or small town you will have social rank
But for the fact of rank and class we have ignorance to thank.