Frankie Quinn with a poem from his book Open Gates.
Posted by Jim on October 11, 2019
Lir
Beauty begrudged by stepmother Aoife cursed innocence from lough shore to open sea Three hundred times across heathered land, King called out in hope No answer came from baying stag Nor golden eagle’s screech, Wild swans stood transfixed
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Infant spirits haunted the Strait of Moyle Roaming father searched enemy eyes For a glimmer of guilt Years waxed him smooth with age While beside him hovered a treacherous love. Selfish deeds brought destruction to gentle king Baptism was death For the
⏩ Frankie Quinn is a former republican prisoner who is now a community activist. He is the author of Open Gates, a book of poetry.