‘Seven Days in May’
© Joe Canning 2019. All Rights Reserved.

The Stonebreakers’ yard is a cold and chilling place,
Where brave men stood bar one to watch their final dawn.
Where the sad whispering priest guided their souls to Paradise.

Letters of despair, of farewell, of pride, of patriotism.
Fond farewells, of weepings, of love, of “remember me”.
Final kisses placed lovingly on final communications.

Where hobnail boots broke the silence of a long painful night.
Where heavy key of foreign jailer rattled in incarcerating doors.
And where souls absolved faced destinies with calm and courage.

The satisfaction that the first seeds of freedom had been sown,
That future generations would reap a hard won harvest,
Eased the cups of pain borne by sore hearts bound for a better place.

Soon the disagreeable would speak their names with respect.
Detractors would admire them, their footsteps would be followed:
Followed for the cause for freedom and with willingness of heart.

In a cold Cork cell too,Thomas Kent would hear the whispering priest.Would see his final dawn like the men of Kilmainham.
And generations to come would continue the search for liberty.

Fifteen men in seven days did light a candle of hope.
Did tell the watching world there would be no subservience.
And who with countless others lit the wick of impending freedom.

Image | The Stonebreakers’ Yard | By rgmcfadden @flickr