1916 Poetry

Our LitLab chairman, Paddy Halligan, sent a text earlier in the week with an exercise for the next meeting. Write a story or poem, maximum 250 words, based on the first sentence of the 1916 Proclamation. Use your imagination and no questions please!

You know the sentence: IRISHMEN AND IRISHWOMEN: In the name of God and of the dead generations from which she receives her old tradition of nationhood, Ireland, through us, summons her children to her flag and strikes for her freedom.

We have done exercises in the past with great results. Variety of response is usually guaranteed though I'm always a little annoyed with members who start their contribution by saying I didn't actually follow the instructions.

Anyway I had a poem ready for the next meeting which is on Tuesday so I'm faced with this. What do I do? This kind of thing has been done, far too often:

Right proudly high in Dublin town
Hung they out a flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;

So what to do then? I thought What would Robert Fitterman do? Robert Fitterman. Did I ever mentioned that I heard . . . (Yes, Yes, we know - not bloody rubber ducks again!)

Anyway on Thursday after a day in the National Library and a meeting of the Boyne Writers Group I started and almost finished my 1916 poem; 258 words so I have to cut it a bit. Not bad if I say so myself.
(OK don't tell us! See if we care.)