This is the very first poem I wrote about P.D.

A Parky in the Pub  

I’ll head down to the pub for a drink and the craíc

Sure I’ll be dead long enough on the flat of my back

So I make my way down to my local bar

On the other side of town for a chat and a jar

Some sit alone, some sit together  

Talk of the match or of the weather

And after a pint or two

I need to visit the loo

So I shuffle and stagger around tables and chairs

Aware of the glances, the pity and stares

Through the noise and the clatter

The gossip and the chatter

I make my way back to my friends and my table

Slow progress but thank God I’m still able

The lads at the bar exchange advice and opinions

To the world’s problems and all their solutions

While the girls at the table share secrets and giggle

And walk pass the lads with a sway and a wiggle

The winking and nudging, the secret half glances

Some of the lads even fancy their chances

The smutty jokes and clinking glasses

The lad’s loud laughter like braying asses

As they drown out the music like crows in the nest

It’s time to go home for some peace and some rest

So I say my goodbyes in words and mumbles

And make my way home in staggers and stumbles.

The journey home seems twice as long

But I’m on the right road not gone wrong

Two steps forward one step to the side

Steady as she goes watch that stride

Left foot right foot no downward glance

Sure I might yet get to star in River Dance

c Denis Murphy Aug 2015