Peter Flannery


At the time

I was a lonely priest

Grateful for my family

And a regular pint of stout

And holidays in Erris

The nursery of my life

Hills to climb and strands to stretch the legs

And looking ever westward

Behind me only dregs


One fine day I climbed a lonely mountain

Carrafull its name and standing tall

I climbed it from Aunt Sarah’s house

On a sweet Glencullen day

A good companion by my side

Peter Flannery


Big fellow

A mop of jet black hair

A cheeky grin a quick wit

How I remember him

He’s lost now to his family

Gone we don’t know where

Come home Peter Flannery

I know you’re out there



Brian Fahy

5 March 2022

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