THE HIDEOUT ON THE ROCK
By Mattie Lennon
(Air: The Oul Alarm Clock)
It happened up in Blessington,
In November sixty-nine.
Justice wasn’t evident
And the day was far from fine.
The Gardai got contrary
And they gave to me the knock
In their effort for to camouflage
The Hideout On The Rock.
I was told “We’re going to charge you
With the burning of a rick”
By Nash and Tighe and Sullivan
And Paddy Browne, the prick.
If the facts had been before me
I’d have got an awful shock;
Had I known ’twas all a cover-up
For The Hideout On The Rock.
Then on a day in early Spring
(But Winter mists hung down)
A daring raid was carried out
In Rathdrum’s lonely town.
The Gardai combed the district
And kept vigil round the clock.
To ensure the culprits’ safe return
To the Hideout On The Rock.
The next landmark in the story
Is Dublin’s Arran Quay;
A zealous guard was there shot dead
On a sunny April day.
To search West-Wicklow homesteads
The Gardai soon did flock,
But somehow or other chanced to miss
The Hideout On The Rock.
When the boys from Dublin Castle came
They saw it was too late,
But still a mounted “sub-Machine”
Stood focused on the gate.
The ‘spied the dump of weapons
When they forced the master lock.
Maurice Sullivan needed brown corduroys
At The Hideout On The Rock.
The Blessington patrol-car
Brought out spades to delve the lands.
There was talk of hidden money
And of Gardai’s blistered hands.
Unless they thought some Leprechaun
Had left behind his crock,
They’d know no buried treasure lay
Around Or Near The Rock.
The action that those Gardai took
Might puzzle you or me
But their Sergeant came from Kerry
Where all murderers go free.
I hear they pushed him sideways
To a station in Coolock
To reward him for the part he played
In The Hiding On The Rock.
General Section
A Farewell for John B Keane
It is four ten a.m.
on the morning after your funeral
and a litany of birds
broadcast a requiem of grace notes
over the mourning town
as I try to negotiate
a straight line
between the Square and Charles Street.
Finally finding the right angle to the corner
I meet your pensive gaze
from a photograph in Landys’ window
and understand
why you once barred me
for not drinking,
while Mary,who held the keys
said softly
‘Don’t worry , you’ll be alright tomorrow’
Pauline Fayne .
(from ‘I’m Fine Really‘
Stonebridge Publications 2005
General Section