Poetry Wall


Summer is finally here,

Tests are over, school is clear,

Put up the pool, there’s so much to do.

No more homework,

No more teachers, that rule over you.


More late nights,

Not having to get up early.


No school that’s the way.


But then September comes,

More rules,

More homework,

Teachers’ grunts.


It’s another year done,

Summer has finally come again.

– Emma Reilly


Losing Well

The tension rises

The jerseys go on

The warm-up begins

The whistle is blown

The ball is in

The clash of the hurl

Like the beat of a drum

The game goes on

Ten minutes left

The game is a tie

A free is given

The ball is hit

A flag goes up

The colour is white

The whistle blows thrice

The game stops dead

The losers go home

Defeated and sad.

– Stephen Treacy

The people are silent,

Don’t hear a whisper,

I close my eyes the smell of freshly cut grass,

Open shoot score.

A sense of relief and happiness.

– Yvonne Ryan

Disaster struck

At three o’clock,

On Thursday afternoon,

From underground,

A mighty sound,

A terrifying boom,

Then upwards shot,

The lava hot,

And skywards went the flame.

Like a nuclear bomb exploding,

On a beautiful summer’s day,

A mushroom cloud growing,

Poisoning on its way.

– Katie O’ Connor



Your life is a blank canvas, even if you’re in Kansas.

Don’t let your parents control it, so you better patrol it.

Pick the woman you want, or else you ruin that day.

Life is a blank canvas, so go on and paint your life away



Wind blowing through the trees,

Wind playing through the leaves,

Wind brushing against the sky.

Wind blowing You and I .

– Andreia Rodrigues

The Sky at Night
Beautiful, oh beautiful,the stars at night,who came up with this lovely sight.
Bright,bright,the round moon at night ,lights up the sky and world at night.

Padraic Troy


I close my eyes because
I might see his beautiful face,
I close my ears because
I might hear of him,
I close my mouth because,
I might hear his beautiful voice,
But i could not close my heart because
I love him so much……

-Marta Rodrigues


When the referee blows the crowd cheers and roars
The ball starts rolling and you can hear the manager calling
The players start to tackle on the short green grass
And start to play with class
When playing a match you try to get all the balls you can catch
In the net the ball you can set
All we know is that soccer is fantastic

-Gianluca Perna


We’re frightfully rich

And out to impress

So we hire a cleaner

To clean up our mess.


But because we’re ashamed

Of the filth in our lives

We do all the cleaning

Before she arrives.




This is a season always happening,

Leaves are falling, the weather is taming,

This always happens so don’t be worrying


Animals gathering as if there is going to be a famine

As if that’s going to happen,

Rusty colours all around,

but, only sometimes you can hear that sound


Cutting of crops,

and bees buzzing,

All part of this wonderful season,


– Aisling Smith


The Midnight Boy’s Dream

Waters glisten,

Birds are whistling,

Children solemnly singing.


In the midnight you will see a young boy

dreaming, dreaming of desperately devoted dreams

in which he dies.


Within all his dreams and doubts, there is

his own break away, in which he and only

he can go


Through and among some lovely fields

where he will always glow

although he may not know

all the talents he has to show.


But all he knows is that it’s time for him to go,

through and among some lovely fields,

where he will always glow.


–   Sarah Williams


A Simple Poem

A form of art

That some can accomplish,

Like an artist applies paint

to a blank canvas.


‘Less is more’

I was always told,

And low and behold

It’s true.


The brushes and pencils,

the splashes of colour

like a rendition

of a beautiful summer’s afternoon.


So when it comes to applying,

Don’t be relying

On this form of art

Which is applying make up.

– Ashton O’ Rourke.



She stares,

Sparkles in blue pools of her eyes,

A river of gold running down her back,

At the stranger in the looking glass.

Beside her stands a tailor,

Nothing yet everything,

As he lovingly pins the icy silk,

Drapes the cashmere around her shoulders

Elegant lace nestled in the nape of her neck.

And even as he does it,

Knowing it is futile, fruitless

This girl does not need it;

For he only played on people’s conceit.

Dolling them up

With feathers and fancies,

Compliments and powders,

Rubies and riches.

No chiffon or silk

No rubies or riches

Could make this girl more stunning.

Beauty shone from her like a halo

Radiant from a glow

She effortlessly emitted.

There is only one accessory

That is fit to increase her beauty.

In shelves of powders

Cupboards of wigs

Wardrobes of clothes,

Only one accessory;

A smile.


Poetry@Banagher College, Coláiste na Sionna


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