Introduction:
About This Poem
There are stories we carry for a lifetime, then lose to the fading of memory – names, dates, the exact turn of a phrase. But the land does not forget. It holds every tyre-mark, every footstep, every mile travelled with someone you love.
This poem walks the roads that a couple I knew once travelled, the long stretches out past Colmanswell, the climb up to Rockchapel where the whole valley opens to Charleville and the Ballyhoura Hills beyond. It speaks too of those old preachers who spoke plain truth, and of how the things we cannot hold in our minds are held safe in the ruts, the hedges, the stones – for as long as the road remains.
Glossary
Irish Phrase : Pronounciation Guide
Ní dhéanann an bóthar dearmad riammh : NEE YAY-Nun un VOH-hur DYER-mud REE-uv
Tá cuimhne ag an talamh í gconaí : TAW KWIN-yuh egg un TAH-luhv GOH-nee
The Road Never Forgets
“Ní dhéanann an bóthar dearmad riamh.”
The road never forgets.
The ruts still hold the print of iron tyres,
the balance of two souls upon one frame -
one hand on the handlebars, one round a waist,
wheels turning slow where summer dust still lies.
Down past Colmanswell where hedges hummed high,
by fields that bowed to breeze and changing sky;
each bend a secret, every stone a sign
for miles that stretched and merged into the line.
Up to Rockhill’s rise, where the world unfolds,
valleys open, far sights unrolled -
Charleville roofs, and Ballyhoura blue,
where heaven leans low on land it knew.
There at the walls where the priest spoke plain,
his voice like flint, his words like rain -
no soft, sweet comfort, only what was true,
a steady fire that saw the spirit through.
I may forget the names, the dates, the way
the stories wove their light through yesterday;
what road they took, who stood at gate or door,
the words once spoken, now recalled no more.
But the road remembers. It never lets go.
It keeps the beat of the pedal, the breath, the slow
turn of the wheel, the laughter on the wind -
all that we carried, and left behind.
Tá cuimhne ag an talamh i gcónaí.
The land always remembers.
Copyright © 2026 Pat Fitzgerald
All Rights Reserved
Thank you for joining me on this journey of writing and discovery. Poetry, for me, is a continuous learning process. A way of finding my own voice and writing style and exploring the beauty of words.
I also write from the heart and never with the intention to cause offence. However, if anything I write ever causes discomfort, please know it is never my purpose. I am only human and occasionally typos or small errors may slip through; I do my best to correct them as soon as they are found.
Support My Work
Running this blog involves time and costs. If you enjoy my writing and would like to help keep this space alive, there are two simple ways you can support me:
Click on the advertisements, Every click helps, no matter how small and goes a long way towards covering expenses.
Buy Me A Coffee
If you feel inclined, you can leave a small donation via the link below. It helps with the upkeep of the site and it is always greatly appreciated.
Please know there is absolutely no obligation. Your readership and support means the world to me already.
With Gratitude,
Pat Fitzgerald
patman4u.com 