PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I dreamt of life sweet in the bright green spring.

Where the hearth is warm as the Gaelic bard sing.



Gentle rain, the planting is near, turn the skies blue and clear.

Birth in the flocks the calls of new born lambs sing to my ear.



Good all around the clan will be three more.

Then the peace is broke by the cries of war.



I witnessed the sight in the firelights.

The last moments that horror ignites.



Whistling flaming arrows rain down onto the open gantries of the wall.

Kin fall beneath the advance of conquering Warlords plundering all.



Intruders destroy as they break down the door.

No escape from this exiled plight no time to restore.



Casts out we have no place amongst our own land.

Fight to the last man the defenders soon disband.



To the bogs vanquished spirited bravery forlorn.

Take the fight to the finish kindles freedoms reborn.



League to marshal them aching to attack.

These far-away dreams in time I go back.



Regroup the clan to a man live free or die.

Courage from the chieftain in other times reply.



In the last moments of sleep, a wounded voice referred.

I heard the roar that an ancient inspiration stirred.



Awaken; Awaken the battle rages still long.

Unwavering, relentlessly onward the Gaelic warrior’s song.