Rody’s Poetry
Poetry by Rody Tierney

The Views from Lyracappul

A poem by Rody Tierney
From the little Assaroola stream that joins the River Aherlow
I will climb to Lyracappul and survey all below
It is to the beauty of our precious glen that I will treat my eyes
Then ponder on the Shrough Dolmen where an ancient chieftain lies

Now with my back to the famine wall I gaze out further north
Beneath the gentle Phelims where three great warriors fought
O’Sullivan Beara and Patrick Sarsfield to name the recent two
And before their time the King of Munster – the legend Brian Boru

Peeping from above the Phelims is Keeper Hill and Mathair Sliebh
Where Eamon an Cnoic was hunted and found refuge in a cave
I can just make out the Devil’s Bit to my right in the distant haze
But not the view from Toomevara where I grew up and played

Alone, alone and directly east stands lovely Slievenamon
Where Grainne raced up to the summit and won her sweetheart Fionn
Charles Kickham used your name to title his fine song
And lose, draw or win Tipp men will sing about you Slievenamon

To the south is steep Bengower, the Glounreagh valley and Seefin
The Blackrock river and Knockaterriff above the pigeon rock sweet glen
Looking west on this fine clear day – I can see the Kerry reeks
But nearer still is Temple Hill with that large cairn on its peak

Now as I have left you Lyre na Cappal and your beauty spots galore
I will pause and bless myself at the cross on Galteemore
Then scamper over Galteebeag and down the Geisha steps
And battle up the slope of Cush – it will surely put me to the test

My pleasant trek is over now and I must make my way on home
The hills and valleys I’ll leave behind for another day to roam
To Bianconi’s coach road pub I’ll call and drink a pint or two
Then before I cross over Slievenamuck I might sing a song for you

Beara Breifne Way

By Rody Tierney
To O’Sullivan Beara I’ll scribble this verse
That I may march into Leitrim before my spin in the hearse
We traversed your rugged peninsula this Patrick’s weekend
Three wonderful days with my comrades I spent

To the guesthouse proprietors we’ll give ten out of ten
They became baggage handlers for our women and men
They brought some to the pub without even a moan
And well before dawn they ferried them home

Day one brought us from Dursey to Castletownbere
Amid vistas and scenery unequalled elsewhere
Next day we set out with great vigour and will
And battled the slopes of ould rough Hungary Hill

On the Sugarloaf Mountain above Adrigole
We planned to toast St.Patrick at the next watering hole
Sweet memories we have and always will cherish
As we ended our trek in lovely Glengarriff

Thanks to Mike from the glen who charted our course
Then swept for three days – you are a wonderful force
Go raibh maith agat Breda – the best bean an ti
Bring us all back again to the hills by the sea

Slievenamuck Marathon

By Rody Tierney
You can talk about the Olympic Games, Grand Prix or Tour de France
The Ironman Triathlon or Flatley’s River Dance
You can boast about the Sam McGuire, Cheltenham or World Cup
But the Marathon of Marathons takes place on Slieve na Muck.


By Rody Tierney
In the year of twenty twenty this enemy swept the land.
More deadly than Adolf Hitler, the Famine or the Black and Tans.
This invisible silent tyrant, by God he was our foe,
On our weak and oldest generation he struck his deadly blow.

He was concieved and born in China, Corona Virus is his name.
He made his way to Europe and invaded Italy and Spain.
The convoy of coffin lorries on the telly made it known
This enemy has no mercy and combat weapons we have none.

We can not hug our neighbour or shake him by the hand.
Social gatherings are forbidden and there is no Sunday Mass.
The restaurants and pubs are closed, there is an air of doom and gloom.
Over seventies are confined indoors and told they must cocoon.

Our government they did us proud, they met this plague head on.
Our medical people are all on board, each and every one.
The minister asked for a little help, he got over sixty thousand volunteers.
Our well trained and dedicated nurses returned from overseas.

We are a strong united people with spirit, faith and hope.
We will get through this together though our backs are on the ropes.
On this blustery and wet Palm Sunday as I sit and write this poem
I remember friends and Marathons past but today I must and will remain at home.

Wash your hands.

To all my friends a merry Christmas and a very happy new year
Though our grand hobby is put on hold we should not despair
Just keep the chin up, be positive all walkers A B and C
When all this has ended the Galtee’s will still be there to welcome you and me