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Sonnet for Stephan Hugh McGirr

Stood tall, pick in hand, in Ballykillowen, Gath’ring winter turf, turning over stone, Moving wood and earth, in a place our own, One child of many, and all of them grown. Work’d across the sea, suffering few fools, He served his country; fed as a granger. Man of...

Opening Oration for the Society of Beef Cobblers

We bear hard these slights of the winters freeze, With shov’lling of snow and cracking of ice. Awaiting spring and her freshening breeze, As wish and want, seem now doubled in price. We try to keep warm our friendships embrace, The years, as always, pass on their...