Posted by kabouter on July 12, 1998 at 18:41:21:
It rained all day in Ballymoney
on the little gray church
and the brickproud school
and the flowers in the street wept in sympathy
for Richard, Jason and Mark
last night it was sweet up the stairs
Sleepy heads full of football and cocoa
BRAZIL PLAY FRANCE TOMORROW -
What a match to watch!
With Mam and Uncle Jim cheering on the couch
Jason for France and Richard for Brazil
Mark just excited 'cos its footie again.
Billy came to play and he stayed all day
we went for the tiddlers
In the pond down the way.
Billy likes Becky - No it's true I swear
I saw him touching her curly hair
He kissed her behind the chapel
If they saw him "he's DEAD!"
Richard says Becky likes HIM instead.
"It's not been a summer", the old lady complained
"The Order's marching tomorrow
It'll be wet again
With God on our side you would think we'd have sun!"
And she gave little Mark 20p for a bun.
"Hey Quinnie" they said,
"Why's your hair so red
When yer mammie's a blonde?
And yer brother's a blackhead?"
The little brick house was never big enough
For three growing boys
You know how rough
Boys are on a house
I could do with a move - so I could
Oranges sweet oranges juicy and ripe
Made Mark, Jason, Richard all squeal with delight
Juice ran down their chins and over the floor
And none of them will enjoy fruit any more
Ireland's proud sons, Yeats, Beckett and Wilde
Each of them once was an Irish child
with promise and laughter
a song in the sun
Enriched a whole world with the magical tongue.
Bono and Sinead and Van Morrison
Enchanted with music the songwebs they sung
"Did you hear wee Mark on the whistle last night
He plays it like an angel -
Sure and isn't that right!"
"t'is the glorious twelfth the same as each year!
Remembered by all of our breathren no fear
With a bang and a bash of the Lambeg drum
Scare the Fenians back to Satan
that's where they come from...
And now we'll remember the twelfth with a tear
Not the battle of the Boyne
Nor the ruin of James
But the murder of boyhood in this '98th year
And the part we all share of the sorrow and shame."
Three sleepy boys talked till each fell asleep
Dreaming of gobstoppers and chasing the sheep
Of old Mrs Grissom who lives in one room
And flies up each night to the moon on a broom.
Of Ginola, Reynardo and Noel Gallagher
And Posh Spice with Dave the Brit footballer
And chased each one minnows in the brewery stream
And none of them minded that it was a dream
The smoke crept upstairs like it knew the way
Had been out in the waste ground playing all day
And tired all it wanted was to go lay its head
On the small white pillow by the little boy's head.
"Mrs Nevin" - she heard him, it sounded so clear
"Please help me - it's Richard - I can't use the stair
And Jason and Mark won't wake up, can you hear?
My house is on fire ...I want mam... are you there?"
The headmaster said with love and respect
"We will all miss you Jason and Richard and Mark
You have gone to the light you have gone on ahead
The road we must follow is bitter and dark.."
"To my wee friends -I'll miss you"
Then her childish pain eases
"Sure I know that your safe now
In the sweet arms of Jesus."
And Ireland green mother
wrapped her arms round her dead
Once again - as the rain fell
on Ballymoney all day so it did
In Drumcree they were sad - "Its a terrible thing
Up in County Antrim - what would bring
A man to burn babies asleep in their bed
And they weren't even Catholics so I heard it said..."
It rained all day in Ballymoney
on the little gray church
and the brickproud school
and the flowers in the street wept in sympathy
for Richard, Jason and Mark.
I wept as well.
kabouter
12th July 1998