Below is the latest Ulster Scots poem from 'The Bard of Lisneal' a Ballyfrenis man living a life in exile - Londonderry. Here are a few lines of explanation.
As is often the case when I sit down to write a ween o lines, the poem which I start out to write is rarely the one that I end up with. I began this one with the idea of writing something about 'danners doon loanins' that are no longer there with people that are no longer with us.
Inevitably perhaps this led me to thinking about my childhood journeys and in particular my Sunday danners with my granda Sam - a man who had a great deal of country wisdom, who always seemed to know what to do and who did it - without fuss or complaint.
I believe a lot of these strengths come from knowing what is truly important - from a sense of your place in the greater scheme, so a poem that started af aboot a danner fun itsell turnt in tae yin aboot unnerstannin.
Tae danner doon loast loanins
Whur time hangs thick as stoor
An squinted een can aft times
gleen aa that came befur
Tae lay agin a warm stane wa
That croons a drumlins heid
Betwixt the plan o God an man
An free fae unco need
Tae weave tha breakers fickle pad
Whur swells rise up tae claim tha lan
And in there wak learn tae tak
Solace fae there tireless plan
Tae turn yinst mere an heid fur hame
Noo tha day iz gan
Oor peace new-made wae him wha said
Be still, an know I am.