Living In A Border Town

 

LIVING IN A BORDER TOWN

Soaking up the atmosphere we learn

Unwritten rules of living side by side.

Coded messages and signs,

On impressible minds

Inscribed early

Define

Head or Harp Euro or Crown?

Identifies origins, allegiance too

Depending on what we learned

At home and school

Religious aware, we proudly boast

We’re all Christians. It’s obvious to most.

Yet, we staunchly smote

with pious repose,

The fault in our neighbours’ ways

Blind ambition flying the flags

 

Voting along traditional lines

Anything that gets the vote is fair game.

Keeping us divided a winning refrain

 

Old ground revisited again and again.

Like parrots on fast forward

Resounding platitudes abound;

Ulster Covenant, Home Rule, Easter Rising

Battle of the Boyne

And everything for the past 400 years

 

Growth shoots of truth

And shared space withers and dies.

In a frenzy of marching feet

and insulting slang

Get back over the Border

Where you belong!

No Irish border hoppers welcome

in this town

 

And from the town on the other side

No Orange Lily marching sound allowed.

You scum you bum get out off our land.

And take that bloody Lambeg drum.

We have no use for it here.

 

And yet it seems, land fertile and green

Ignores all of the above

Cattle graze unperturbed.

Lambs frolic and play

Ignoring the rumouring winds

that sigh of heritage

Of pain of loss of life

 

Between two ribbons of nature’s way

Each on different border side

The river runs strong and wise.

Silver grey trout and

shoals of salmon bright

Skilfully avoid the dangling fishermen’s fly

 

Lovers ponder its wondrous depth

Cupid’s arrow flies

Ignoring flags, symbols and signs

Will their love be allowed to survive?

That’s a story for the tide of time

Living in a border tow

 

Gemma M Hill