Arms of Solace

of the olde Irish brouge,a lifetyme away

Arms of Solace

 

E’re aye be-mourn the wail of a bairn…

Cradled 'pon mither's arms of solace..

Ne’r  to sup nay feed upon.

For the harvest be gleaned..

The fields bare of tare.

Hush a bye My child

The next world is ferr ‘ye.

Author's Note

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Reviews

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the way the poem is written. I like the old languages. Each with style and strong words to enhance the speak. Thank you for the amazing lullabye.
Coyote