Prelude to a poem....
We Irish have been unjustly stereotyped as brawlers , boozers and tellers of tall tales. But wait... there's more to being Irish.... we love music and dancing and revel in telling jokes about the clergy and death ........we even make attempts to telescope a long shortstory into the rhythmic parameters permitted by our classical Limerick. And so it is with my own life these days as I am haunted ..... literally smitten.......day and night by the cadence , lilt and pulsating beat of the Limerick. Sooo to get it out of my system I have been writing down a few examples to show you exactly what I am talking about.
An endeavour of cheap undertaking ,
In my mind's eye though still in the making ,
A pine box for slumber
Some six feet down under,
Whilst awaiting the Doomsday awakening!
P.S. I am in no way feeling depressed nor suicidal.
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