For centuries a whiskey town
Distilling Molloy’s firewater
And a Phoenix town
Risen from the flames
Of accidental destruction
Caused by a hot air balloon;
The first ever aviation disaster
Here in Ireland.
Tullamore once in Royal Meath
Its annual festival still seeking
To crown a Queen of the Land
Chosen from the finest examples
Of modern Irish women;
Most of the entertainment
The guidebook advises
Takes place at night.
Tullamore of castles, monasteries,
Celtic crosses and manuscripts;
Where also each year
At Hugh Lynch’s pub
They put a roof over Kilbride Street
For three whole days,
Play music non stop
And dance themselves stupid.
David Subacchi lives in Wales (UK) where he was born of Italian roots. He is a graduate of the University of Liverpool and has published four poetry collections in English: First Cut (2012), Hiding in Shadows (2014), Not Really a Stranger (2016) and A Terrible Beauty (2016). He writes also in Welsh and Italian.
David’s Blog is to be found at http://www.writeoutloud.net/profiles/davidsubacchi.
