Swords Castle Poem By Angela Koch
Once upon a time in the province of Leinster
built
by the Archbishop of Dublin and his ministers
there is the castle of Sword in all its glory
so listen now to the castle’s
fictive story.
The Archbishop’s knights wore the newest iron dress
and every morning they got their
daily bless.
Only the best fighters he took in his team
and they survived the strongest battles in their dreams.
The
Archbishop with family and all his friends
were celebrating every night without an end.
The tables nearly couldn’t
bore all the dishes,
loaded with deer, hares and a lot of fishes.
This life went on for over a hundred years
while
the folk lived in poverty and in fear.
In the end no fish swam in the river any more,
no offer of deer nor hare in the
stores.
The beautiful castle of Sword gone to rack
all over the walls you could see big cracks
The dust
laid all over on shields and rusted iron-suits,
on lances, arrows and bows they never did need.
The Archbishop
decided to leave this nasty place
they built a new castle in Tallaght – the enemy to face.
It was good for Sword
– so the castle still is there
while Tallaght-castle can’t be seen nowhere
Sword has its castle
even still,
and it's old glory will be rebuilt.
If you come around Sword one day
take your time for a little stay!