Sitting here yesterday I contemplated and pondered how I could fit todays poem together and yet in a manner that fits and lays the foundation for future reading. That being a place, a series of ruins that in recent years much have been uncovered from overgrowth and wild hidden areas to become what is both a tourist walk and a regional park that encompasses such an area that is covered with history.
Much of which I do not know of myself, but the neauty that lays within the wild over grown ruins, have become an attraction to me and part of which have become a part of my daily walking routes. Not being from this area win whih I live, the Royal Gun powder Mills were an unknown part of history I have not known about. Thus todays poem tries to set the stage in a manner of speaking.
The Royal Gun Powder Mills has much more to offer than I could explain at this point, But a Visit to The website for The Powder mills will explain more about this area. and why it offered a little inspiration for this poet who does not care very much for city life or being this close to city life. I do suggest reading a little up on The Royal GunPowder Mills to go with this poem to further fit with what I am trying to portray.
Also rather than my usual One photo for cover Picture etc, I am adding an extra for further peek at an area that has been a source for my poetry and where I walk to clean my head and gain instpiration.
Having said that Please enjoy.
A Series of Photos of Royal Gun Powder Mills in Ballincollig Cork Ireland
Royal Gun Powder Mills Scattered ruins by the riverbank hidden clear, Remains of forgotten past ne’er so near. Hidden beneath decades of decay there, Lost from occupying forces I swear. Forgotten by time and seasons advance, Ivy cover walls as trees bloom by chance. Where life carried on in hardship life’s fare, Many offered thus stood no chance or prayer. Time has changed and stones lay still lost in ruin, Much revived yet geared to tourist grew in. Today's pleasures been yesterdays pains lost, Water powered manufacture at cost. Oh land of ancient foes, who overthrows, Your hand print found in ruins where nature knows. Where history will not repeat again, Gun Powder mills once your claim remain plain. As nature covers history divine, Future unveils tourist haunts wine and dine. Walkers pleasures to wildlife’s home lays here, What history hides in nature appear. © Pat Fitzgerald 2023
Thank you for reading this post. This one has taken a little more time than usual and took a little more thought into how to place this here. In this late hour I am trying not to rush BUT I must finish shortly, therefore forgive any mistakes…
At times mistakes and typos make their way onto published posts. This is not on purpose, but they do slip through my editing etc. BUT rest assured I do correct and update as ssonas any are found. BUT some take a little longer than others to be found by myself. I thank you for understanding this little matter.
In finishing, please stay safe and take care, But when possible show a little loving care to those in society that may be in need of loving care.
Until next time Sláinte (Cheers / good health)
Buy Me A COFFEE to Help with upkeep of this Blog!
Would you like to buy me a Coffee? I always welcome someone to come visit and join me for a coffee. Please click on the button to support this page by Buying me a coffee. I love to sit with coffee in hand and compose such poetry as you have read here.
I welcome any Donation that will go towards the upkeep of this blog, I will never ask OR Insist on a Donation, BUT IT does help a whole lot in keeping this blog running. If you decide to donate however Little it is. Thank You.
I also ask that you click on the adverts as they help provide a little income towards upkeep. again Thank You.