Irish Papist

Irish Papist
Me and General Robert Lee

Friday, October 11, 2013

The Avenue Outside My Garden

In the avenue outside my garden
Children play their skipping games.
In the avenue outside my garden
Mothers call their childrens' names.
And as the time to dusk grows short
Teenagers hold their standing court
In the avenue outside my garden.

In the avenue outside my garden
Mostly no-one passes by.
In the avenue outside my garden
Morning minutes gently die.
The pigeons peck the ground for crumbs
And hop away when the post-man comes
In the avenue outside my garden.

In the avenue outside my garden
Loneliness is soft and light.
In the avenue outside my garden
Nothing special greets the sight
Except the joyous light of day
And the God-made souls that go their way
Through the avenue outside my garden.

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