Dublin – for dVerse

My True Love is a Dublin man
And Dublin is his city,
So sing a song of Dublin
Where the girls are all so pretty

There’s a poet in each cafe
And the streets are paved with gold,
The pubs are full of music
And the gurriers are bold

Some men give you diamonds
Or a dozen roses red
My Love gave me the Long Hall
And the Palace Bar instead.

My True Love has grown older
And he’s watched his city growing –
The Celtic Tiger roared and then
The money started flowing,

You can buy a frappuccino
Where the poets used to sing,
And strut your stuff on Grafton Street,
With cocktails and with bling,

The nightclubs bang til 4 am
So have another jar,
And watch out for the stag dos
Throwing up in Temple Bar

My True Love comes from Dublin,
A memory of a city,
Where the Guinness flows like water
And the barmen all are witty.

Some men give you chocolates,
Some men give you flowers,
My love gave me a city
Of tenements and towers

My True Love is a Dublin Man
And Dublin is his city,
So sing a song of Dublin
Where the girls are all so pretty.

 

Welcome, Jilly, to dVerse, where the words flow like Guinness! This is for your first solo prompt – be inspired by a city.

I was lucky enough to see Andy Irvine the other night,so I’ve had some rhythms bouncing around in my head for a few days. My mother in law is unwell, so my husband’s been heading over to Dublin a lot recently, and, I guess, we’ve both been reflecting on changing times, mortality, getting older. A heavy load for a lightweight little number. The more musical among you may find a tune for it stored away in your brains somewhere…

Gurrier? a bad, bold boy…

24 thoughts on “Dublin – for dVerse

  1. I have a problem — although some see it not as such — that I read something that carries a lilt, a brogue, an twang … any kind of accented sound and I pick it up, first in my head and then on my tongue. So now I’ll be speaking the luck of the Irish in my sleep. Dublin would be a wonderful adventure, but I’d never get the shamrocked sounds to cease! And yes, I can hear the song, and the glasses clinking together between verses.

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  2. Oh yes, Sarah, it needs some music! This is such a lyrical, musical write it just has to be sung out loud by a solo female singer in a pub in The Liberties or The Dubliners! I’ve a tune in mind but no voice to sing it with..

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  3. Yep, this rollicks like a rolling Irish rock reel — Joyce called the language Earish, heard as much as seen. Usually the folksongs remembered an Irish woman back home, so this is a fine reversal. The penultimate stanza is as gold as Guiness. In the mythological division, the south half of Ireland (crowned, crowed or capped by Dublin) was a real of song, jesters, fools, demons, fidchell, fiddling and the heart.. This coin was minted there!

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  4. Ah you’ve given us a little tour of Dublin! I especially like the last two stanzas! We were there for a day a year ago….stop on a cruise. Ah yes….the pubs they are a many! 🙂

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  5. “My True Love comes from Dublin,
    A memory of a city,
    Where the Guinness flows like water
    And the barmen all are witty.”

    And there’s that guiness I ordered in a pub near the river, back in May 1992! Wonderful write!

    Like

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