The Scrummie Irish

“The scummy Irish,” said the English coach

When we stopped last years grand slam

But in this six nations the boys in green

Played both cool and calm

Twenty eighteen was the year,

Johnny drop kicked – out the French

The Italian job, we just stopped the mob,

They should have stayed on the bench

The Welsh seen red as we put them to bed

And tucked them off to sleep

Our cousins the Scots took their shots

The Calcutta cup they’d reap

Then came St Patrick’s Day

We met the Enlish on their turf

We’d already won the six nations

But that was not enough

Their kicker took out Kearney

After the ball was played

T’was from that silly foul

that our first try was made

Ten came our second try

Followed by our third

Upon each try and conversion

A rapturous cheer could be heard

From every corner of the planet

Their fans in green could see

As our “Scrummie Irish Heroes”

Won most graciously

A Great BIG Thanks to the boys

And Mr Schmidt and Co.

For rolling over the English team

And giving them nowhere to go

For being so brave and daring

Like the storm before the calm

Yous’ withstood the force of five nations

To win a Great Grand Slam

John Hayden Mar 2018

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The Beast from the East

The old and poor will stay in bed

Til later than they do

To spare their heat and milk and bread

So they can make it through

 

The homeless are offered shelter

And some hot food and soups

By the Grace of God they’ll survive

And the help of the homelessness groups

 

Still there remains a more vulnerable few

Left by the way side

Those who wont accept shelter

Through fear, anxiety or pride

 

Then there are the others

Heat and food stocked high

Will they spare a single thought?

As they pass the vulnerable by

 

John Hayden 2018

 

Homeless

Another soul lost, to the cold and the frost

When does this become a disgrace?

The government won’t help, ever how hard they yelp

Because they have no face

 

No face that matters or one that shatters

Their illusion of that which is

No it’s not alright to sleep rough every night

These are things they seem to dismiss

 

This soul in the gutter had no words to utter

Cause nobody wanted to listen

They just lost their road and their abode

Maybe that’s all that was missing

 

It could be you or me, in a future we don’t see

Where we fall by the wayside

Where no one will know us, nor greet us or show us

A better place to reside

 

What would you do if that was you

No seriously just pause for a moment

You’ve nowhere to go, your life has no glow

Your head is filled with torment

 

We are all just human, no more and no less

There’s no one alive who deserves that unrest

Even locked up evil people, in their cells have their beds

Everyone bar our homeless have a place to rest their heads

 

John Hayden 2017