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Tuesday August 26, 2009

Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page

If you have a poem you'd like to see published in The Irish Examiner then send it to:

The Poetry Corner
The Irish Examiner USA
1040 Jackson Avenue, Third Floor
Long Island City
NY 11101

or, preferably, you can email it direct to
ronniemcginn@eircom.net.

If possible keep your poem to 20 lines. You may choose any subject you like, in any form you like as long as it's original. We look forward to hearing from you.

Marion Rose Horgan of Cobh, Co Cork, Ireland, tells us in her book "My Road" that she wrote this poem to mark the anniversary of the death of Jack Doyle, who was a legend in his own lifetime.

He was born in Queen's Street, now Connolly Street. in Cobh, Co. Cork on August 31, 1913, and spent just a few short years there before the finger of fame beckoned him onto a wider stage.

He excelled in the boxing arena and on the stage, where he mixed with figures of world renown.

In his turbulent lifetime, he experienced the heady heights of fame and celebrity but also knew despair and destitution.

He died, penniless, on December 13, 1978 in Paddington, London, England and his body was brought back to his native Cobh.

He was buried in the historic Old Church graveyard just outside the town.

His amazing drive and versatility will always be remembered with pride by the people of Cobh.

Blasphemy

Oh Gorgeous Gael. you dreamed your dreams,
Which later came to be.
And many a heart you charmed and won,
Through your diversity.
Your prowess in the boxing ring,
Brought fame beyond our land.
And fortune smiled its transient smile
On you, so fine and grand.

The bright lights lured you on to sing
In London's halls of fame,
And Cobh was proud of its fine son,
And of his Irish name.
Yes, you became a wonder,
Of ring and stage and screen,
But wonders too, begin to wane
As darker times set in.

Your light was quenched before its time,
Amid adversity,
Far from your home and those you loved,
In Queenstown by the Lee.
Three requiems were held for you,
As you lay cold and pale.
In London, Dublin and in Cobh,
They mourned the Gorgeous Gael.

You lived each day, and seized your dreams
And realised each one,
And Cobh will not forget you Jack,
Its proud, illustrious son.
All fame and glory wilt and fade,
Down through the mists of time,
But the love and pride will never die,
In those you left behind.

© Marion Rose Horgan

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