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Death Poems About Ireland

Ireland death poems and poems about death for Ireland. Read and share these heartfelt Ireland death poems with loved ones, friends and family members. Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for non-death related poems or Ireland Poems.

Poem Details | by Tom Cunningham |
Categories: death, ireland, new york, sea,


The Titanic set sail from Queens Town in Cork on her maiden voyage to the city of New York. Its sinking cost lives that they couldn't save now those poor souls lie in a watery grave.
Written 27th July 2020 For four lines poetry contest Sponsored by Constance La France.

Poem Details | by Tom Cunningham |
Categories: death, ireland, marriage, murder, river,


Young Ellen Hanley caught John Scanlon’s eye
He was determined that she’d be his wife
Their marriage was cursed and Ellen would die
On the River Shannon she lost her life.

She was a beauty but of lower class
He belonged to a wealthy family
A few weeks later grew tired of the lass
She was found in Shannon’s estuary.

His servant killed Ellen a girl so young
And from a boat threw her over the side
Both men found guilty and from gallows hung
Her dead body washed ashore with the tide.

In Clare there stands a memorial stone
The Colleen Bawn she is now better known.

Written on 28 January 2019

Poem Details | by Jimmi Canada |
Categories: analogy, cat, courage, death, dedication, deep, dream, drink, fishing, integrity, ireland, irony, joy, light, lonely, love, motivation, muse, myth, woman,

The story

In a story it will unveil,

in courage it will feel,

on the days when you're out on the wheels-
do not look back at the heels,

and don't knock twice when you've got two doors to peel,

focus in,
and you might white out the right steal...

"Hello Artimus! Aren't you that brat that hangs out at the sailing reels?
Don't you do that cat that likes ferns who 'unlike any mother' never gets to be like the guys in turn... with the wheels..?"

Poem Details | by Robert Andrew Lyle |
Categories: dark, death, fear, ireland, mythology, night,


The Banshee sang its mournful song
Upon the night time air
To take souls to the other world
Who went it didn’t care

Whoever heard its dreadful wail
Would be the first to leave
But many more would follow
From the Banshee no reprieve

All the doors around were locked 
To keep the people well
But surely as the Banshee knocked
Soon some would be in Hell

Don’t walk afar on these dark nights
But if you have to   Please……..
Be wary of the Banshee song
As it goes singing through the trees

Poem Details | by Jerry T Curtis |
Categories: bereavement, dark, death, humor, humorous, husband, ireland,

Sudden Death

Mary O'Sullivan
Right after Mass
Stepped out of the church
And as she walked passed
Father McGee, couldn't help see
That Mary was shedding a tear

Approaching Mary
With the kindest of hearts
He wasn't quiet sure, 
Where, he should start
The silents was broke, when McGee finally spoke
"What, is the problem, My Dear"

"Father forgive me
But late last night
My husband died sudden,
Right there in my sight"
McGee stood in shock, and barely could talk
Until he could work past the fear

"I know it's hard
But please do your best
Where there any last words 
Or final request" 
"Yes, 'PUT DOWN THAT GUN', while starting to run
But I'm not sure I heard him that clear"

Poem Details | by dennis curry |
Categories: courage, death, freedom, hope, pain, patriotic, people, war, war, war,


 Oh Ireland i have seen your beauty
 I have seen your hatred too
 I have heard the songs of rebellion
 The war of words,the words of death.
 You remember Pearce,Connolly and Mcbride
 You forget the children who have died
 Died because of your ignorance
 Died,because of you,the people
 Who stand and watch,then turn away
 When will you learn that no-one wins
 In the game of war and hate
 But everybody loses
 For you, is it too late ??

Poem Details | by Patrick Boyle |
Categories: bereavement, father, ireland,

Castle bar


Connemara marble seems plain
when held in a young boxers hand
Coming alive when touched by his father
Alive with green-ness
Alive with time
-no longer on the old mans side
looking down now
at cut granite hands
that once set him free

Free to leave Castlebar
the beach at Roundstone
the beautiful Anya Quinn
and a mundane life

And the white handkerchief?
the one she waved from the dock?
until it became a
a speck,
then a memory
shared with others in her Eulogy

Poem Details | by J.F. Briars |
Categories: death, destiny, ireland,

A short tribute to death

In war we must die
And just like that I
Took my last breath
Embraced my death 
And closed my old weary eyes

Poem Details | by Sophie Wilson |
Categories: 3rd grade, character, grave, humanity, ireland, myth, presidents day,


A lonesome figure stood upon the crashing waves
Extended arms to the darkest skies
Screaming out her fury at the heavens above
For the bitter storms she had survived

Tears streamed from weary eyes so tired of battle
Small shoulders shook in agony
Cursing the very things that made her stronger
As this, she could not see

Why me? She moaned and wailed in a mournful tone
Hot fear still gripping her heart
While forgetting that she was alive and well to cry
The most incredibly, important part

Those bitter storms will come and they will pass
They will never stay too long
Remember when you are screaming out in fury
It is The Storms that make you strong.

Poem Details | by Gordon Alexander |
Categories: death, history, ireland, military, soldier, truth,

Death of Martin

Vengeance is a dish best served 
But I'm content the news I've heard
For an evil man has lost the race
Down to hell you've found your place
Yes Martin you've finally gone
Now Northern Ireland can move on
Without your murdering ideas at hand
Peace at last on the emerald island 
For all those people whose lives you hurt
Now you can rot in the dirt
Rot in Hell from the British community

Poem Details | by Regina Elliott |
Categories: bereavement, death, hate, ireland, sorrow,

Shamrocks Bleed

ireland's own countrymen gang wars dying.....her
shamrocks bleed in the dew

Poem Details | by Regina Elliott |
Categories: america, bereavement, for him, ireland, memorial, military,

Four Leaf Clover

In the soldiers' honor burial grounds in March,
of a love who passed, and sleeps with 
brethren of the uniform,
I knelt in springtime grasses lovingly,
and found a dewy four leaf clover,
paused in prayer at his grave,
for the comfort of the saints, for more
cherishing words I meant to say,
for him-
born in 1960, in Asheville, North Carolina,
on St. Patrick's Day.