• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    A Picture

    I wear a picture in my heart, no matter where I rove,
    A picture reminiscent of home and peach and love,
    A picture framed by hills that rise through skies of Irish blue,
    A stream-divided valley – a simple rustic view.

    The bloom upon the apple tree, the gold upon the gorse,
    And snowy thorns in blossom by the silver watercourse;
    A cailin driving cattle home presents a picture fair –
    The sunshine in her dreamy eyes, and on her golded hair.

    A corncrake calling in the vale to concrakes up the hills,
    A cuckoo flying overhead, a skylark higher still.
    A cottage peeping through the trees; turf-smoke, like banners blue;
    A window where the setting sun surveys his image true.

    A cottage where the roses climb against a snow-white wall.
    And framed within the open door the sweetest rose of all.
    I wear this picture in my heart, no matter where I rove –
    A picture that reminds me of home and peace and love.



    Michael Mullin ‘The Bard of Foremass’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co Tyrone.