Toby with Aisling at Spanish Point

1 Leave a comment on verse 1 0 Not a poet, no, although Toby was a bard
of the bottle no doubt, with a song
and a rhyme, his thick red beard
under his Harris tweed hat,

2 Leave a comment on verse 2 0 no eyes to be seen, his briar pipe
fumigating the Irish air with Ogden’s flake.

3 Leave a comment on verse 3 0 His wheelchair making it onto the sands,
a chore for the caregivers to churn
through the sand with a boatload
of bloodies and Jesus, Mary, and Josephs.

4 Leave a comment on verse 4 0 Then later hilariously hatless,
the churning Atlantic and just Toby’s feet and head
to be seen — almost lost him right there,
laughing like a child to be back

5 Leave a comment on verse 5 0 where it all began for him,
before the English road,
food grubbed in binnies

6 Leave a comment on verse 6 0 laughing how he was just one of the tots
kicking a football round the schoolyard.

7 Leave a comment on verse 7 0 Christopher T. George


Thanks to Kevin Raymond for his link to the Aisling site with wonderful photos by Deirde O’Callaghan which inspired this poem. Aisling is a UK-based project to provide housing and comfort, as well as trips for homeless Irish-born men to their homeland. http://www.aisling.org.uk/gallery/index.html

Source: http://footballpoets.org/poems/toby-with-aisling-at-spanish-point/