Murphy's Ballad

This poem is the story of how my ancestors came to the U.S. my dad told me, and I made it into a poem. Hope you like it!

With time knowledge is found,

And for that knowledge the son will go,

Tears fill goodbyes as ships sail westward bound.

Disobedience fills time as it reaps its harvest of woe.

 

In eyes old and weary,

That stare out into the heartless world,

As dashed hopes cause the solemn to become teary,

Clothed in royal robes that have long since furld.

 

In a place were sadness is sad to visit,

The old man burdoned with death's empty eyes,

Breaks as his daughter leaves with hope exquisit,

To lands forgiving of time, she flies.

 

In a land opportunity has blessed, she will strive,

All alone like a flower in a field of ice,

With burnt out hopes, faith she can't revive,

When she sees her brother, a king in a world of vice.

 

But his soul accepted death and not Him,

And with the guidance of a god, he pilfered her coin,

And for him she cried blood-fillled tears in moonlight dim,

For she knew the forsaken he would join.

 

Responsibility, she will take with a smile,

And when grief as loosened its grip for her sake,

Happiness will enter, bring love and leave it in a pile,

From a man who loving her will never take.

 

In a new home , pain will grant new life,

Filled with love and care for a holy decade,

But death's cruel irony, will bring back life's strife,

And goodbye her love slowly bade.

 

Years passed but in its cunning sorrow stayed,

And death's next knock will be for her,

And God will forgive the failures she made,

And in her heart sadness will no longer stir.

 

In heaven she will find those she lost long ago,

She will embrace the man who cared for her,

Realizing she is somewhere her brother will never go,

Once more she will search but this time for her father.

 

But in heaven her father will not be found,

But on earth, there, waiting, he will forever stay,

For, to his son's return he is bound,

For death cannot take him, till Murphy bones, in the land again lay.

Reviews

[Seshat Nidaba]

Have you ever read Sara Teasdale, you have a similiar feel to her, at least in this piece!

I find it very refreshing that you used your name, in this exploration of your lingeage. I mean, this piece has an unusual depth.

I look forward to reading more from you :)

[katiemur11]

Hi Bridget!
I think this is great! I am enjoying your work. I had no idea you had such talent!
Very proud of you, darling... Keep at it!
This poem is interesting to me, 'cause Dad never told me this story. He did share much with us "older ones". I guess you got lucky. :)
katie

[Coyote Poetry]

The Irish had a hard history. Had to stand strong and hold tight to their history. I like the way you wrote this poem. Gave some history and create a lot of sorrow. A powerful ending to a outstanding poem.
Coyote