The Ballad of Seamus O'Connor

(something I wrote for my poetry class)

There once was a lassie named Honor O'Shea
Who lived in a small Sligo town.
She worked as a maid milking cows in the hay,
And her body was short and round.

Down the hill in a thatch-roofed house
Lived a lad named Padraig O'Connor.
One day he decided he needed a spouse,
So he called upon up-the-hill Honor.

Padraig was tall and thin and pale,
And Honor could break him in half.
Round Honor herself could have broken the scale,
But Padraig could make her laugh.

So on May twenty-fourth as the sun was out shining
Paddy and Honor were wed,
And by five twenty-four as the party was dining
Paddy took Honor to bed.

Young Padraig sighed as he took his bride.
He was happy to be Honor's groom.
And Honor sighed as she laid by his side--
Her maiden-flower a-bloom.

Nine months later, again in their bed,
Young Honor lay on her back.
She breathed with might, her legs were spread,
And the baby cried with a smack.

Paddy came in when he heard the babe crying.
Honor had tears in her eyes.
She kissed her dear child, but Honor was dying,
So the new mother said her good-byes.

"Take care of the baby," said Honor to Paddy.
"Give him the name of my father."
"Seamus will suit him; he'll be a bright laddie."
And she died in the arms of the other.

They laid her to rest on a dreary March day
As the baby cried in his carriage.
Paddy laid flowers upon Honor's grave
Not a year after his and her marriage.

When Seamus grew up, he was tall as a tree.
He got his height from his father.
Big and round and mighty was he.
His girth he had got from his mother.

By the time he was twenty, young Shea was an ox.
He could pull a plow on his shoulders.
But Shea, he was fast, he could run like a fox.
As he hurtled the heaviest boulder.

Young Seamus kept growing, taller and thicker.
He barely fit lengthwise in bed.
And riches were spare in the O’Connor home;
They barely had money for bread.

So Seamus O’Connor packed up his sack,
And headed for Auld Dublin town.
He hugged his old father and said he’d be back.
He promised he’d not let him down.

He stepped off the train at Connolly Station,
And gazed at the great Dublin city.
He gawked at the capital town of his nation
And the wee young lasses, so pretty.

As he wandered the streets, he looked down at the crowd--
All the people he towered above.
He looked up in the clouds, to his mother he vowed
He would find him a job she’d be proud of.

He met an old captain on the docks of the harbor
And asked if he needed a sailor.
The captain looked up from the blade of his arbor
And suggested he go to the tailor.

To Grafton he walked, past the storefronts and vendors
To a shop along St. Stephen’s Green.
He knocked on the door, in all his tall splendor,
But the tailor inside, he was mean.

He looked up at Seamus and gaped at his height
As he peered with his spectacled eyes.
He slammed closed the door in a fit of great fright;
His rudeness he didn’t disguise.

So back to the quays, young Seamus strode
Till he found an O'Shaughnessy's pub.
He sat on a stool and set down his load
And ordered a pint and some grub.

As he finished his Guinness and ordered one more
And remembered his horrible day,
A little old woman walked through the door,
And sat at the bar next to Shay.

The little old woman ordered a drink
And sparked up a light conversation.
She sipped on her whiskey and gave him a wink
And inquired about his vocation.

"I haven't a job," said young Seamus to her.
"I've been looking for one all day long.
My journey through Dublin has all been a blur;
It seems I just do not belong."

"Poor laddie, chin up," said she with a grin.
"I've got just the calling for you.
My rugby team is in need of a win.
Old Molly knows just what to do."

So she trained him in running and tackling and throwing.
On the field, in the scrum, he excelled.
In the fall he was ready to make his first showing.
He wished and he prayed he'd do well.

On the field that first day, he tackled and ran
And scored point after point for his team.
At the end of the match, as he shook Molly's hand,
He knew he had conquered his dream.

Seamus went on to win hundreds of matches
In Ir'land and all the world 'round.
He made thousands of tackles and thousands of catches.
He threw thousands of lads to the ground.

He sent all his money to Sligo for Paddy.
His father was filled with pride.
He was proud of his famous and rich little laddie.
He had always been on his side.

And as Seamus now walks through the Dublin streets,
All of Ireland knows him by name.
But no matter how many teams he beats,
He is not overcome by his fame.

He looks up at the clouds and winks at the sky,
And she shines down her love and her pride.
And he knows she's been there since the day that she died--
His mother, his angel, his guide.