Wednesday, April 1, 2015


Author's Note:
(A parody of the original poem about Doneraile,
written by a poet who was disgruntled
with the town in County Cork. This parody,
less severe, was written for the
2011 literary festival in Doneraile.)


Come Harvest Moon or Autumn gale
It’s show time now in Doneraile.
Now you, like Raftery, heist your sail,
If you can write, hit Doneraile.

If you want to sing or tell your tale
The place for you is Doneraile.
If your partner’s left and you’re a male
No better place than Doneraile.

If you’re interned or locked in jail
Break out and head for Doneraile,
If on remand then try get bail
And meet your friends in Doneraile.

The Philistines can whinge and wail;
They have no place in Doneraile.
Of the action here you must avail
At this culture-fest in Doneraile.

Not wind or rain or driving hail
Will keep the scribes from Doneraile.
And farmer/poets will leave their kale
To reap the fruits of Doneralie.

To Chareleville they’ll go by rail
And head with glee to Doneraile.
If your inspiration has gone frail
Rejuvenate in Doneraile.

If your Muse has gone and your talent stale
‘Twillbe revived in Doneraile.
I watched as Gandal fanned his tail
When he heard mentioned “Doneraile.”

His boss then smartly hit the trail
With FailteIsteach, for Doneraile.

©2011 Mattie Lennon.

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