The owner of Contentwriterireland, Seamus Hanratty, recently got an article and poem published in Irelands most read newspaper the Irish Independent.


“As the coronavirus slowly began to tighten its grip on my hometown of Carrickmacross in Co Monaghan, I sought solace amongst the ancient mountains that populate the border region.


And even with the tighter new restrictions, whereby these mountains can’t be reached, there are many lakes, forests, and parks in the nearby vicinity where people can soothe their minds and safely adhere to social distancing.


After the initial feeding frenzy of panic that we witnessed throughout the globe, it dawned on me that as the eyes of history rest on our shoulders, do we want to be remembered as being the generation of the “the great toilet roll panic” or something more worthwhile?


Instead of the ‘me, me and me’ philosophy that infects the modern world, going forward, we might be bold enough to spare an occasional thought for our fellow man and woman.


Who knows – maybe when all of this ends, a new world will be carved out. A less selfish and self-obsessed society will emerge, where instead of hoarding everything for ourselves in a frenzy of unrestrained gluttony, narcissism, and materialism, people will stop for a second and will ask their neighbour, “Are you all right, do you need a helping hand?


Poem: ‘Nature’s sanctuary’


To see the face of God in a rising sun


And the hope of a future in a twinkling star


To feel the power of true wealth when not one dime rests in your hand


And wish for nothing but the moment at hand


To stop and stand still and hear the chords of heaven in a trickle of water.


Oh Erin’s ancient land of sorrow, legend and lore


Hypnotise me with sparkling waters and clear blue skies


Capture me in a web of mountains, rivers, and whispering trees


Wrap my arms in Slieve Gullions embrace


Feed my soul with natures chorus


Of Blackbirds, thrushes, robins, and angels of all kinds


Awaken my senses amidst Castles, Forts, Dolmens and secrets of unspoken kind


Shroud me in your lush green grass, These hills the canvas on which we toil


For this is nature’s great sanctuary a shelter from pandemic fear.”

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