Philomena The Wife Of John Cronin

Poem By Francis Duggan

The eldest of the family of the now deceased Jer and Mary Long
Philomena the wife of John Cronin of Caherbarnagh is still going strong
In her early seventies young at heart she does remain
The great love of life Philomena retain

A mother and grandmother with a heart of gold
People like Philomena never feel old
In her John Cronin found his soulmate in life
Devoted to her family and a wonderful wife

Time as is said becomes everyone's foe
The Long Family left Annagloor many Seasons ago
But time in the memory seems to stand still
Of when they lived in the green Townland in view of Clara Hill

Philomena she does have a charm of her own
And for her kindness and her compassionate ways she is known
A former pupil of the Presentation Convent of Millstreet
As nice a person as one could wish for to meet.

By the cottage she was born and raised in at Annagloor the river from Kippagh does flow
In the flat and green fields of the rook and gray crow
But Philomena she live in Caherbarnagh today
And in mind and of heart ever young she does stay.

Comments about Philomena The Wife Of John Cronin

There is no comment submitted by members.

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of DUGGAN

Racism Is Around Me Everywhere

Of human ignorance I am almost in despair
For racism is around me everywhere
But like they say sheer ignorance is bliss
Just like Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss.

A Beautiful Day

In the blue sky just a few specks of gray
In the evening of a beautiful day
Though last night it rained and more rain on the way
And that more rain is needed 'twould be fair to say

A Ballad Of Wasted Years

I have walked through tougher Harlem where few strangers dare to go
And I've been in London City in the rain and in the snow
And I've worked in inner Melbourne in the searing summer heat
And believe me if I tell you I have earned the bread I eat.

A Beautiful Person With A Heart Of Gold

She sees things of beauty in all that she see
And what's beautiful to her seems ugly to me
What to her is a flower to me is a weed
We do seem so different so different indeed.

The Sound Of Laughter

The sound of laughter is a thing of beauty for laughter spreads the very gift of joy
That people they are drawn to happy people is not that hard for to understand why
Since everybody wishes to be happy and laughter it spreads happiness around
And only the heartless could not like the sound of laughter for laughter is a very happy sound,

The Admirable Mo

My admiration for him it only does grow
For a braver one than he is of i may never know
A paraplegic due to a motor accident forty years ago
Now in his early sixties the admirable Mo