Kayleigh Flynn, a radiant young woman of about nineteen,
Dressed in fine flowing Irish flax linen, her proud figure
Defined by the Iris print fabric that followed her fleeing
Frame. The beauty of traditions that once defined with vigor
Her ancestral heritage she seeks; her perfumed cleavage
Discreetly hidden; at bay – the devouring Celtic Tiger.
Adorned with handcrafted Ogham charms, rings, and bracelets, the image
Of faith, reason, civility and gentleness her
Exhibition when we crossed paths on the open road.
She recited me the rhymes and verses, poetry of culture,
Defined by sign posts and clear destinations; we strode
Onward together for as long as I could remember.
Her youthful resolve charging ahead for reversal, change
In direction, the restoration of moral decorum:
The Taoiseach, the unborn, families, ideas
to exchange.
“So I leave these shores behind and I’m on my way to Fordham.”
But I begged her to stay, the corruption in the West even greater,
I pleaded, so soon to corrode a dear angel like you.
Let us reroute to Phoenix Park, marry, and together
Bear many children and raise them in the faith of our homeland, true
Patriots, kin of valor; we will seek the like-minded,
And scrub away the filth and shame that leaves Saint Patrick to blush.
The devil would have you do as you say;
a country divided,
Dear Kayleigh Flynn, as her children are her only hope when aflush
With Spirit: her passion - given clear visions of liberating truth,
Taken not twice by falsehoods and progressive deceits;
Her faithful - guided by our venerable Mother, the Rose of her youth;
Her hands and feet - an emerald beacon to the world’s conceits.
Her rosy cheeks now streaming with tears but her mind could not be swayed,
She kissed my cheek good bye and then our separate ways we went.
For it was not by me but by her people that she had been betrayed.
To the open road she took, Kayleigh Flynn, change her sole intent.
Gary Edward Geraci