Strangers Scorn Us For Being What We Are
For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way. They scorned us just for bein’ what we are. But they …
For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way. They scorned us just for bein’ what we are. But they …
They want the horse fair banished from the streets to a field Where they believe all horses should be Their spirit contained, …
They will tumble down as Dick did before them To one side will be their self important laws will be thrown We …
If we put the same resources to saving the hungry and the homeless as we do into one little bird, this would …
We will see you, as a sure thing, in September On the Main Street among the proud horses there We’ll walk among …
My family came to Banagher in 1977 from Ballinalee in North Longford (via Clones, Athlone, Daingean and Moate!) and I grew up …
To ride a horse is to ride the sky, Someone once said somewhere… Well I was not with horses raised, But I …
When growing up in Banagher, the Willie Wagtail was one of my favourite birds. They nested regular in our garden and yard, …
Its been a crazy week, a stink has been kicked up over the shit that was raised that led to a man …
The most farcical part of the attempted shut down of Banagher fair, was when John Boy Dolan got cautioned for selling HENS… …
We lost our fire stations, it costs to much to save our lives Not enough folk die from fires, is the reason …
It was a scene of shame for the Gardaí in Banagher this past weekend, as on the the Saturday, en force they …
Horses and ponies, dealers and wheelers The street is a farmyard for a day… Dreamers and schemers, thinkers and drinkers Everyman is …
The bell is ringing in the distance As to all it spells the time I turn over so I can sleep And …
“He saught her hand in marraige long, But she scorned each advance, He knew not another wench she would be, So he …
Beauty passed, and yet still beautiful, Walls crumble, slaves to time, build long ago The rhubarb that once here grew I ate, …
Tomás Ó Cárthaigh reading the The Pallet readings in his native Banagher in Co. Offaly.
As falling are the leaves from the trees I walked along at my ease From nowhere to anywhere Having not a care …
The shadows dark, when I, a child Slept, or rather when I tried And creaks and groans of ancient timbers Would have …