In my Tipperary abode, a long, long time ago,
At the foothills of the mountain, that's called Slievenamon,
Working every day, mucking out, grooming, riding out horses, my way,
My greatest passion, on this hungry earth,
...
Read full text
You have drawn a very realistic picture that sans no poetic requisite. We who live miles away from a landscape like Slievenamon feel very enthused about it and are simultaneously saddened about the woes of falling in love with a worthless youngster. After all your poems are a wonderful mine to be traced, I hope.
Oh, nice whispers of the one in love. The heart will keep on murmuring its language until it gets its longing and desire.Well done! ! ! ! !
the life's experience is written in a poetical form! very interesting to read!
Wow! A poem that describes the beauty of Slievenamon and the poetess bitter memories of falling in Love. Many lines can be sited. They are wise and skillfully placed in the poem. The flow is very good. The life their was for time being.... Anner House drew me closer, to its warm comfortable bosom, But it was only on lease. Nice work Hazel.
great.great imagery.....................good use of hyperbole and wonderefully described and composed :)
so sad, no matter u got a lot than u loosed. so u have composed this beautiful poem. i can give u the divine love to create more poems. keep it up my frnd. n rely on ur poetry only which will give you a celestial love. go ahead
Hazel, a really nice write. Mucking, grooming, riding out the horses. Makes me smile. Thank you for the illustration of the troublesome quality of love. You were young going through this, it's now my turn to experience the very same, including the horses. Nice way to start my day, with your words. Thank you. Rick Elpers
Beautiful flow of words and thoughts. It reminds of my teenage as well. A lovely nostalgic write.
A great reminder of the helter skelter life we manage to put ourselves through in our youth filled days, they were good while they lasted apart from those horrid egotistical maniacs trotting around stroking their own brows....i really enjoyed this piece as it reminded me of my own time spent in youth where enthusiasm was the key to everything...tyvm karen
Bidding farewell to teens at a place rich of beauty is an amazing experience that has been nicely painted in the poem.