I wish aloud for my native soul
to take me to my promised goal
where Behan and Yeates all laboured still
beneath the cherished poet\'s quill
Where Rhyme and Stanza flowed away
and god\'s gifts passed through pen all day
I implore thee great Beelzebub
grant me entrance to their club
I will relinquish a Faustian soul
if from this heart you can cajole
a poem to make their hearts take flight
and rise upon the dizzy heights
a sonnet to make them drop their pens
and wish their minds to be cleansed
For once inside, these words of God
will make all writer\'s work seem flawed.
By Tomàs Aodh Keaney.