Poetry

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#1 Thu, 03/29/2012 - 12:46
Ranger

Poetry

THE O'NEILL CHAIR: (Clan Aodh Buide Inauguration stone)

Hewn with axes, bludgeoned without thought
an angry ton of drunken stone lurching into
history. This rock, this hard fought place, with
no between, fit for The O'Neill who knew his
reign was fleeting. No easy seat, no lounging
here with goblets of blood wine late into the
night. This cold Tyrone throne, made for men
on the edge, ready for flight.
 
Owen Roe O'Neill
 

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