Duneden Days

Duneden Days

By Paul McCann

I can hear the sound of the laughter ,

like distant  echoes here  long after ,

those childhood days  were a wonderland when

we all held heaven in our hand ,

in Duneden days in Ireland .

The bonfire wood we all had to guard

and on Assumption day in Glenard up

Into the sky the sparks all soared .

Halloween cake and we knocked on doors

with face masks bought from the OK stores .

 The  language of laughter we all shared

when we were all as free as a bird ,

in duffle coats singing  Bangor boats

away we go out to John O’Groats .

Duneden days are in the past tense

we had the laughter of innocence  ,

skipping ropes hanging from green lampposts

and all of us grew up really close .

Duneden days playing in the Park ,

football matches after it was dark

and we never thought those days would end ,

now they all seem like an absent friend .

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