Poetry
The Speech
My heart starts beating faster,
A flushness takes my face,
Flashes of disaster,
My pulse a rapid pace.
The sweat on my brow thickens,
My tie feels like a noose,
A seconds length is quickened,
My stature is reduced.
Hands filled with tremble,
A blur covers my notes,
No words do I assemble,
A lump within my throat.
So many eyes upon me,
Do they see my anxious state?
Their silence blocks my helpless plea,
They’ve doomed me to my fate.
But as I start to speak,
I feel a blissful calm,
The redness leaves my cheek,
My fate no longer damned.
My words are without flaw,
Closing line I finally reach,
I hear the crowd applaud,
And so I end my speech.
By Aodh Ó Gallchóir
The Weather
Soar, soar, birds are soaring
Clouds, clouds, clouds are roaring
Rain, rain, rain is pouring
Soar, soar, birds still soaring
Clouds, clouds, clouds still roaring,
Does the rain ever stop pouring?
By Hugh O’Mahony