• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    Poems
    A Wise wee cat

    One holiday I strolled away
    To enjoy an hour or two
    The breeze was mild, the landscape smiled;
    But weary at last I grew.

    Then a house I spied, I stepped inside
    But not a one was there
    Save an orange cat with a green cravat
    Sitting in an easy chair.

    God save all here. “You too my dear”
    To me up spoke the cat.
    “Tis  cheap in a chair as standing there”
    So down on a chair I sat.

    Said I “Kind cat” – to start a chat,
    “Tell me the reason why
    A cat like you of an orange hue
    Should wear a green necktie”.

    With velvet paws she stroked her jaws
    And ears before and behind.
    “Don’t mind the hues orange green or blues
    But how the hearts inclined”.

    Then looking wise with half shut eyes
    “This isle shall ne’er be free
    Till there’s orange and green with white between
    From the centre to the sea.”

    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.

    To the river Erne

    Sweep on, mighty River! at heaven’s command
    And sever the border that severs our land.
    You have severed it once you have severed it twice
    The next cut you give it no tyrant shall splice.

    From the land of the Free, through the land of the slave
    Through the border again to the welcoming wave.
    Sedately and grandly and proudly you flow.
    Defying the tactics of traitor or foe.

    Your beauty by bards thro’ the ages was sung
    Your fame down the annals of Erin has rung
    Your name’s proudly named – it is twice to be seen
    In the grandest best song of our dark Rosaleen.

    You were old when our nation arose like a star
    Spreading learning and light among nations afar
    Still old and yet young you beheld its oerthrow.
    In a flood of red blood and a blizzard of woe.

    And Erne! like a queen moving down to the shore
    You shall greet the glad day when the border’s no more.
    Your currents of light like a sun bursting forth
    You shall banish dark bigotry far from the North.

    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone
    Sent 30th June ‘48

    The Northern Blackwater

    “Why are you sorrowful, Blackwater?
        Why do you frown as on you flow?
    Why do you mourn? What is the matter?
        Why does no smile on your dark face show?
    Have you forgotten your ancient story ? –
        Forgotten Hugh and Owen Roe?
    Forgotten their story? Forgotten their glory
        Ireland’s triumph and England’s woe?”

    Mournfully answered the mournful river –
        “I have not forgotten Owen Roe
    And those brave men who strove to sever,
        The bonds which laid my country low.
    If I could defy the despot’s order
        Smiles on my face again would show
    But since they defamed me and named me The Border
        I’m only a lonely stream of woe.

    MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass’.
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.