The Emmigrant's Adieu to Ballyshannon - William Allingham

Adieu to Ballyshannon! where I was bred and born; 

Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as night and morn; 

The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one is known, 

And not a face in all the place but partly seems my own. 

There 's not a house or window, there 's not a field or hill, 

But, east or west, in foreign lands, I'll recollect them still. 

I leave my warm heart with you, though my back I'm forced to turn, — 

So adieu to Ballyshannon, and the winding banks of Erne! 

Second Tongue - Gearóid MacLochlainn

I am the tongue

in the kidnapper’s sack.

The Broken Wing - Liam Ó Comain

A racing pigeon of distance ability,
His colour known as grizzle, that is
White feathers spotted with other spots
Of colour. A likeable and interesting bird
And when he was less than a year old I
Sent him for a training flight
In preparation for racing.

Feminine Arithmetic - Charles Graham Halpine

LAURA
ON me he shall ne’er put a ring,
  So, mamma, ’t is vain to take trouble—
For I was but eighteen in spring,
  While his age exactly is double.

The Millihelen - Sinéad Morrissey

It never looks warm or properly daytime
in black-and-white photographs the sheer cliff-
face of the ship still enveloped in its scaffolding
backside against the launching cradle

The Fetch - Ciarán Carson

I woke. You were lying beside me in the double bed,
prone, your long dark hair fanned out over the downy pillow.

After Sunset - William Allingham

The vast and solemn company of clouds
Around the Sun's death, lit, incarnadined,