'Darcy and O'Mara' is a novel by Arthur Cronin.
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Thursday, February 16, 2006

 

Freddie in a Field

"Raindrops keep falling on the hood upon my head.
"I'm glad I missed the match, and came out here instead.
"Forgetting all my troubles and my woes.
"And thankfully I've very few of those."

He walks away through long wet grass.
To a stream, too deep to pass.
In full flow now in the rain.
It's time to head for home again.

A dark green hill beneath the grey.
Rain clouds start to drift away.
Sky appears, and sunlight too.
The grey replaced by deepest blue.

In a car park near a low stone wall.
Freddie's car won't start at all.
He tries again but nothing yet.
The engine sounding close to death.

He decides to step outside,
To solve this problem, time he'll bide.
He hits the windscreen with a stick.
The front wheel also gets a kick.

Cows don't blink. He frightens birds.
He stops when someone says these words:
"I'm trying to paint you. Please stand still,
"For a short while, if you will."

She's sitting at an easel near him.
Despite the stick she doesn't fear him.
He stands there facing towards the south,
And this is what he thinks about:

Like the river through these lands,
Away she goes, to where he stands,
And holding hands they walk away,
Into the night, another day.

What if I had said my thing,
And offered her a wedding ring.
Would she smile and slowly nod.
Or scream and say, "Oh God, oh God."

In a good 'oh my God' way.
No other non-God words to say.
More-or-less a yes it is.
'Let's set a date and do the biz'.

Or would she run away in tears,
Shaking head with hands on ears.
Like when I said I loved her dearly,
And her car is free of chickens, nearly.

It doesn't really matter, though.
Rivers, streams and time will flow.
What will be will have to be.
What's done has been and gone from me.

But I don't care. What can I do?
Huge white clouds light up the blue,
With golden edges way up high.
A breeze blows them across the sky.

The woman says, "I'm finished now.
"I nearly added in a cow,
"But instead I drew a deer.
"You're waving at him over here."

Freddie looks at what she's done.
He smiles and nods in evening sun.
He breaks the windscreen with a stone.
And smashes headlights with his phone.






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A Walk in the Rain

 | poetry from Ireland



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