I walk past the harbour seeing the boats-a-bobbing
On the water gently as my head is throbbing
The pain dissipates as I watch the gulls fly over
The serenity of the sea is a sight that is sober
This harbour town is so peaceful today
The sun it does shine its ray’s
I sit on a bench looking across the water
At the Fort and think of the lost daughter
History tells of a sad loss she had
Told by her father, was ever so bad
She couldn’t bare to be alone
Threw herself off the guards stones
Turned out to be a untruth she was told
So into the sea did she fall, into the cold
Now her ghost haunts the walls of the fort
Looking for her lost love, her life caught short
I see a boat coming in, a fisherman with his catch
He’ll unload that haul, a sleep and shower he’ll snatch
Then off to the Spaniard he’ll go for his pint
Sinking a Beamish or three, he’ll sleep tonight
He may sing a song or three, even play the fiddle-de-de
His friends the guitar, bodhrán and tin whistle, he’ll see
The people of the Spaniard will listen with awe
At the singers and players who they saw
Off to the Tap Tavern to end the night
Where a warm welcome awaits as always as is right
I nurse my drink with friends and strangers here
Their smiles, their talk goes well with my beer
This place so special to me across the four seasons
I am happy to go back whatever the reasons
Small, perfect and magical it is
The town I dream of, the place that I miss
*For all things of my beloved Kinsale please click on the following sites:
http://www.cork-guide.ie/kinsale.htm
http://www.discoverwestcork.com/
http://www.kinsaleadvertiser.com/
withheldindarkness
March 25, 2013
A tragic story you tell in this poem. Well written and I really enjoyed it. My wife has Ireland at the top of her places to visit … however a little thing called money gets in our way. Thanks for sharing.
Darren Greenidge
March 25, 2013
Thank you for that. I used to live there on two separate occasions and I will one day go back for good. The story I mentioned is true and you can look it up on the links I left at the end of the poem. The Fort in question is amazing and I’ve walked around it many times. The town is also the gourmet capital of Ireland. Save up and go. You’ll never look back.