Dear old Dun Leary

 Dear old Dun Leary


Dear old Dun Leary

All of life is here

Every shape and size a walking

All along the sturdy pier. 


Little starlings chatter

Hoping for a crumb

As children finish ice creams

Tossing them a cone. 


Mothers wheel their children 

Breathing in sea air

Life jackets on young sailors

As they sail their tiny boats. 


Foreign accents come wafting

On the harbor breeze

Walking to the lighthouse

All the world at ease. 


The outstretched arms of piers

Provide a refuge in the bay

The quiet waters lapping

The jetties by the shore. 


Old women gripping bags

From Penny’s and from Dunne’s

Old men with fishing tackle

Returning home with no catches. 


Handsome foreign faces

Pretty girls in shorts

Pretending not to notice

The boys in tight ribbed shirts. 


Life in all its guises

Rich and poor alike

Where skyline meets the sea

And dry land greets the coast. 


Bright sun is warming

The lower pier at five 

Looking to the mountains

Good to be alive. 


Couples holding hands

Practicing their lines

Trying out romance

For the first or second time. 


Handsome yachts riding

The gentle evening swell

Clear cleats clinking

Busy seagulls calling. 


Bank Holiday Monday

All is good and normal

We will harvest these sensations

Store for short Winter days. 


The clouds are parted 

And the sun shines down

On young and old

In Dun Leary harbor. 


I spent the day sitting

Like any old man on a painted bench 

Grateful for the magic scenes 

Drinking in the welcome sounds


Called to no higher challenge

Than to smile at dogs on leads

Following the high vocation

Of relaxing in the sunshine. 


The wind is picking up

The sun is clouding over

Time to abandon station

Pray for tomorrow’s weather. 

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