Swords Castle Poem By Angela Koch
Once upon a time in the province of Leinster
built by the Archbishop of Dublin and his ministers
there is the castle
of Sword in all its glory
so listen now to the castle’s fictive story.
The Archbishop’s knights wore the newest iron dress
and every morning they got their daily bless.
Only
the best fighters he took in his team
and they survived the strongest battles in their dreams.
The Archbishop with family and all his friends
were celebrating every night without an end.
The tables nearly
couldn’t bore all the dishes,
loaded with deer, hares and a lot of fishes.
This life went on for over a hundred years
while the folk lived in poverty and in fear.
In the end no fish
swam in the river any more,
no offer of deer nor hare in the stores.
The beautiful castle of Sword gone to rack
all over the walls you could see big cracks
The dust laid all over
on shields and rusted iron-suits,
on lances, arrows and bows they never did need.
The Archbishop decided to leave this nasty place
they built a new castle in Tallaght – the enemy to face.
It
was good for Sword – so the castle still is there
while Tallaght-castle can’t be seen nowhere
Sword has its castle even still,
and it's old glory will be rebuilt.
If you come around Sword one day
take
your time for a little stay!