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May the good saints protect ye And the Devil neglect ye!I'm 6'3", 210 lbs , blond, deep blue eyes.........fit~ I love music, the outdoors.....never one to step away from the edge~ I've got a scar I can talk about~ I'm very open and direct.... and irish born! I'm educated, well traveled ans spoken...I'm a Thinker's thinker... I'm a peaceful man until backed in a corner..........I'm a defender of Irish ways...past and future.......This page is for the love of Ireland...for the irish ways..past and future........I'm Irish....and could care less if you agree with me........I'm a lover of all people.....skin color, faith, being gay....and all the other whatever's....mean nothing to me........We are all parts of one big machine.... An Irishman's Philosophy In life, there are only two things to worry about... Either you are well or you are sick. If you are well, there is nothing to worry about,But if you are sick, there are only two things to worry Either you will get well or you will die. If you get well, there is nothing to worry about,But if you die, there are only two things to worry Either you will go to heaven or hell. If you go to heaven, there is nothing to worry about.And if you go to hell, you€™ll be so busy shaking hands with all your friends You won't have time to worry!The utterly impractical, never predictable, Sometimes irascible, quite inexplicable, Irish.Strange blend of shyness, pride and conceit, And stubborn refusal to bow in defeat. He's spoiling and ready to argue and fight, Yet the smile of a child fills his soul with delight. His eyes are the quickest to well up with tears, Yet his strength is the strongest to banish your fears. His hate is as fierce as his devotion is grand, And there is no middle ground on which he will stand. He's wild and he's gentle, he's good and he's bad. He's proud and he's humble, he's happy and sad. He's in love with the ocean, the earth and the skies, He's enamoured with beauty wherever it lies. He's victor and victim, a star and a clod, But mostly he's Irish in love with his God.From Donegal and from Sligo, From Kerry and from County Cork, Irish men and Irish women Made the Garngad, the Garden of God.Where the flag of Ireland flourishes Where the Celtic are prayed to at night, Boys and girls of the Garngad, Are born wearing, the green & white.With hymns of Ireland echoing Of heroes who are long gone, It is in the Garden of God, were our children are raised On Celtic and Irish songs.
Bobby SandsDo you walk with your comrades in heaven With the warmth of the sun on your back A smile and a word for James Connolly His spent body no longer wreckedDo you speak of Carbery with Pearse Whilst wee Willie takes notes with his pen Does the wind lift the wings of your heart As the sweet lark flies free overheadCan you see how your life made its mark And inspired millions more just like me Who pray that the Good Lord will grant us One day to walk with you, free.
A Poem for Bobby SandsA Poem for Bobby SandsThe sky was black with grief & anger, The rain, it fell with the strength of steel, Ireland wept for a fallen son As his soul & spirit was delivered to freedom.The legends of Ireland mourned as one As the strength was taken from Bobby Sands, Cuchulainn's spirit awoke the fighting souls Who saw a hero perish within a British jail.Freedom's bird hid within her nest As Bobby Sands was laid to rest, Within the midnight sky, among the brightest stars, His words are forever echoed, Tiocfaidh Ar La~
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