Dublin there is no city like it, nor will there ever be.
It’s one of the smallest county in Ireland, and yet it feels really big
I could walk around it blindfolded, and still get there on time.
I love the feel of the cobble stones as they wobble beneath my feet,
The ones around Guinness are imbedded by steel rail tracks from a Past life,
They are different from the ones in Smithfield not just by craftsman skills,
But the smell of the barley, that makes its way to the delivery depot yard its final stop at
the Guinness brewery yard.
There is nothing better than a window shop up and down O’Connell Street,
To stop outside the (G.P.O), and look deeply all around.
And try to remember those who made it possible for us today,
For if it wasn’t for their bravely, we may not be able to marvel all the rich and glory as we do today.
Some people pay for this, but we get it all for free.
It’s part of our Irish history and it will be for the future generation too.
To walk across the half penny bridge that separates, the north from the south
Or look deeply in to the Liffey, and let your thought s run free.
We must of not forget our greatest, the writers and the poets,
The state men, the artists, the every man, and many of the man,
The writer’s Brendan Beehan, or Oscar Wilde,
Poor ole Oscar the man who partied and very wild, Sent to prison in England,
A showman and his trial a media circus, men with wigs and men with cloaks
Refused to believe that been gay, and where not accepting it, Believing it to be a crime
And refused to settle it any other way
Mr. James Joyce another talented writer, the author of a novel titled the Ulysses
An Irish liner cruises the Irish Sea, titled Ulysses.
And Johnny forty coats wrapped up all year long, style wasn’t his priority but keeping
warm was his business,
To get heat in our Irish weather was a blessing in it self.
And what about bang bang, the key that couldn’t shoot.
He would point out his brass key and shout “bang bang your dead”.
Or what about hairy lemon from the liberties, Or even Peggy leg.
All these Characters are long dead but their legends’ never are.
And Mick the barber, who cut your hair for fifty pence,
You need to get in early, if not you would be there all day.
Welcome to my Dublin and your Dublin.
This article was originally published in:
Fountain News Digital – November 2010 (Issue 1)
We are re-publishing all articles from our past newsletter, Fountain News Digital, and you can view all completed newsletters here. There were nine issues published in total between 2010 and 2012.
