The 8th of December
A poem by Lorraine Murphy, a member of the Inklings writing group.
Black Friday is nothing
For those who remember
The trip to Dublin
On the 8th of December
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As children off school
We’d prepare for the day
The tae, soup and sangwiches
And at least a month’s pay
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To Guineys and Boyer’s
After a scone and tea
Mammy wouldn’t last otherwise
On her dodgy knee
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To Cleary’s and Roches
we’d get lost as we played
Then Hector Grays and the Kylemore
Where the best cakes were made
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On up to Grafton Street
To take in the sights
Santy in Switzers
the windows, the lights.
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Back down to Henry Street
to the bustling crowd
Last of the Cheeky Charlies
Wrapping paper two a pound
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Christmas dinner in Arnotts
To admire our gains
as we took one last look
then returned to the train
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Times change and rightly so
Progress must be allowed
Black Friday is great, but I’d rather the 8th
In the place Dubs know simply as
Town.
– Lorraine Murphy