A sonnet for lovers
‘A sonnet for lovers’
(‘Dedicated to the one I love’)
It’s the simple things
The simple things you do
Not just the simple things
It’s the complicated things too
The simple act of holding my hand
The simple morning cup of tea
Listening to my favourite band
The complicated act of listening to me
You make it simple to love you
As simple as can be
You make the complicated act simple too
The completed act of loving me
One thing that’s not that complicated
As a matter of fact it’s simple
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Together we shall overcome
‘Together we shall overcome’
‘Poetry for the Deaf’
Eh! What
What Eh!
What did you say?
‘Poetry for the Blind’
It’s called Performance poetry
It’s loud; so real
It’s written down
But only in Braille
‘Poetry for the Dumb’
For their eyes only
Read only
Poetry for the Deaf, Blind and Dumb
We will work it out between us
Please don’t make it:
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Forever in Boots
Swimming costume, bib and tucker
Stonewashed jeans or three-piece suits
Never going to be, a tidy looker
I am the man, forever in boots
Funerals, parties or weddings
Working days or evening pursuits
Planting flowers in their beddings
I am the man, forever in boots
I want to be forever in boots
I wear boots on land or sea
I can be a miserable old coot
If you hide my boots from me
In the ring wearing boxing boots
On a horse in my riding boots
At the riverside in Wellington boots
Happy to be the man, forever in boots
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Edu-mac-cation
‘EDU-MAC-CATION’
I am going back to school to finish my education
Something, I should have done forty years ago
Will I succeed this time around?
Oh dear, I very much hope so
I have tried several times before
Somehow, I always failed
Couldn’t concentrate, hadn’t the patience
Think it’s time I got it nailed
GCSE’s in Maths and English
I have to follow those paths
Not so bad at English
Bloody useless at Maths
That was when I was in school
All of forty years ago
I was jack the lad back then
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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I Have Reserved Time to Write This; Why?
I sat in the nature reserve
Watching the animals playing football
I was just a reserve
Not in the first eleven
I had a seat in the theatre reserved
I watched the play unfold
I not an actor I’m too reserved
I’m in the audience where I belong
I was called up by the army
Served before; but they wanted me to re-serve
I was playing tennis; the ball went wide
They made me re-serve
Reserve your energy
Reserve your nerve
Keep your humour in reserve
Keep your reserve in reserve
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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As Happy, Happy, Happy As Can Be
Bricklayer’s like to keep their spirit levels high
Joiner’s and Chippie’s will raise the rafters
They do the things that brings them joy
Things that give them the laughter’s
Their as happy, happy, happy as can be
Nurse’s keep their humour tender
Clown’s like to act the fool
Heating engineer’s like it hot
Ice cream makers keep it cool
Their all happy, happy, happy as can be
I like to be in your arms
Saying I love you’ listening to you saying I love you too
I like to see your smiling eyes
In which my smiling eyes look into
Then I am as happy, happy, happy as can be
You make me so happy, happy, happy as can be
Happiness is me as happy, happy, happy as can be
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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A Sonnet for Noireen
I saw you across a crowded room
I fell in love
I had to write you a sonnet
My heart went vroom vroom vroom
I asked for your hand
I won it
All the eyes were on us
As we glided across the floor
The ladies Cooed
The men cussed
All full of envy
As we danced more and more
We danced slowly
We danced swiftly
The ladies bowed so lowly
The men minced so shifty
We were too busy in love
Our steps as one so nifty
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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The Mystery of Life
The theory of life
Is to be at one
With strife
And remain calm
Calm is where we are at one
With ourselves
When the day is done
We put our strife on shelves
Like books to be read
When we are at one
With ourselves again
Life is performed in
Recurring circles and stages
To be acted out like a play
A mystery drama
We continue to perform
In circles and stages
Life is not a mystery
The mystery is
Why we live in
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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Look good in pink
‘I Look Good in Pink’
All day I’m stuck
To the kitchen sink
Or cleaning the toilet
To get rid of the stink
Making breakfast
Dinner or tea
So that they will
All love me
Make their beds
Wash their clothes
Their dirty socks
Makes me hold my nose
So that they will love me
Partner wakes up
Has breakfast
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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The Aging Man
‘The Aging Man’
The aging man sat on the concrete seat
Outside the hidden mountain cottage
The seat where generations had sat before
A family party going on inside the cottage
He sits and ponders his future
As generations have done before
Some chose the priesthood
Others opted for foreign climes
Some had gone to war
None of the family who had left
Had ever returned home
The eldest, as he was, of each generation
Stayed at home on the farm
He thought, this he might change
He wasn’t sure if he wanted
Another family member
Stuck on this mountain
In this out of the way cottage
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poem by Michael Micmac Mccrory
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