To Live And laugh And Love

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Poet Raven and his wife Angie (‘The Scottish Queen’)

A tribute by Roddy McDevitt to his friend Raven, one of the leading lights in the Dublin spoken word poetry scene and the Irish Festival scene, who died tragically in a swimming accident off The Baltic coast last week.

You Are Of Ireland

(For RAVEN after Yeats)

You are of Ireland
And the holy land of Ireland
‘And time runs on’ cried she
‘Come out of Liberty
Come dance with me in Ireland ‘

One man, a man apart
In such outlandish gear
With his glorious American
Feathers answered the call
Of his Caledonian cailin
And came to dance
In Ireland
For he and she both knew
That time runs on, runs on

You are of Ireland
And the holy land of Ireland
‘And time runs on’ cried she
‘Come out of ecstasy
Come dance with me in Ireland’

And the Raven danced
With his Scottish Queen
In the paradise gardens
Of Holy Ireland
Verses flowed
From his honey’d lips
As his Angel
Plucked her strings so sweet
They danced and sang
And played
In parlour field and street
Inspiring every soul they met
To live and laugh and love
And ne’er the heart forget
For he and she both knew
That time runs on, runs on

‘We are of Ireland
And the holy land of Ireland
And time runs on’ cried she
‘Come out of rhapsody
Come dance with me in Ireland’

Roddy McDevitt

Previously: RIP Raven

8 thoughts on “To Live And laugh And Love

  1. Shane Duffy

    You get an idea why Irish poetry is at its lowest ebb ever, book sales are appalling, turnout for readings are made up of friends and other poets. Poor Kavanagh’s back is bent backwards with all the shoulder standing he’s had to put up with since the 80s.

    Reply
  2. Shane Duffy

    Reading this you get an idea why Irish poetry is at its lowest ebb ever, book sales are appalling, turnout for readings are made up of friends and other poets. Poor Kavanagh’s back is bent backwards with all the shoulder standing he’s had to put up with since the 80s.

    Reply
  3. Shane Duffy

    Reading this you get an idea why Irish poetry is at its lowest ebb ever, book sales are appalling, turnout for readings are made up of friends and other poets. Poor Kavanagh’s back is bent backwards with all the shoulder standing he’s had to put up with since the 80s, now they’re using Yeats again.

    Reply
  4. shayna

    Hey Roddy – that was great. Sad context, now you’re a poet and you know it. I think the last time I saw you was when you spent a day with me at Autocue. “Noel’s House-Party” at BBC-TV Centre. Who could forget that?

    Reply

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