• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    In April

    The April sun comes smiling after showers;
    The clouds fly, and the valley fills with flowers;
    The birds sing, and the one-time timid buds
    Are clapping baby hands in all the woods.

    Gold on the gorse, and silver on the brook,
    And brown bees buzzing in each sunny nook:
    Who says we’re poor, with so much wealth around?
    If heav’n’s like this, it is a happy ground.

    I walk ‘mong fields where I have laboured long
    To plant the little seeds fit mould among.
    And now I see the corn-spears pierce the clod,
    While my heart fills with gratitude to God.

    Men may be cruel, and the times be bad –
    Yet much have I for which my heart is glad:
    God’s helping Hand, the Beauty of His Face –
    The springing crops, the valley’s April grace.

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