A Memory

Deargaill, Pulgloss
Austin V. O'Malley


Jamesy Jimmy is gone to his reward

Words of praise and appreciation are unnecessary

Among those who knew him

Everyone has their own for this keen huntsman

One of nature’s gentlemen


The last of a village of O’Malley’s

Called Bun Thíairin

Compact, tidy, on one street,

Thatched houses

Tie-stones, corner stones, lintels

Carried from Clare Island

Hard working people

Skilled fishermen, seldom fooled

by vagaries of wind and weather

Self sufficient with their own hard won produce

Even their own spring well between cliff and sea



A few cattle, pigs, kelp

Honest toil




Flour, tea, sugar, paraffin oil

and on a priority level with oxygen itself,



Will the O’Malley’s ever return to reclaim

their lovely little corner in the sun

or, with the passing of James

Has the last water been drawn

From Tobar Na hAille?


In ascal Dé atá said go léir



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