The Paddling Pool

On a Sunday after mass at St Joseph’s
He sneaked us into Fallon’s Bar,
And as we played in the pool room
He nipped in for a jar.

He then swore us to secrecy
He said we could never tell:
‘cause if me mother ever found out
We’d all be bound for Hell.

Now we kept our guilty secret
And on a Sunday after mass,
We were put into the pool room
As he nipped in for a glass;

And then we told my dear mother
We were at one of the local parks,
But little did she know that:
We were in swimming with the sharks…

…and to this very day,
my mother doesn’t know
That her little sons souls,
weren’t always as white as snow,

And that sometimes on a Sunday,
When she thought we were at one of the local parks:
We were in Fallon’s bar,
swimming with the sharks.

So if you read this little verse,
and it strikes a nostalgic cord:
You must have been in Fallon’s bar,
after you met with the Lord.

Your father must have sneaked you in,
beside all those thirsty men,
Most of whom are gone now,
amen, amen, amen.

By Brian Cummiskey

Co/BC/Aug/2012

~~~

If you have any Poems… Send them to Bill

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