All I Ask

Is a Tall Ship

The Soul Verse of

Michael Walsh

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MICHAEL WALSH The writer whose work spans two centuries

“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt.

Poetry is a painting that is felt rather than seen.”

~ Michael Walsh.

BIOGRAPHY

Irish author and co-writer of over 40 books, Michael Walsh is an international

journalist, broadcaster, author - and poet. His collection of over 500 inspiring,

entertaining poems enjoys global acclaim. Born into a literary family, his father,

Patrick, was battlefield companion of American war correspondent legend, Ernest

Hemingway. His lifelong friendship with Sean O‟Casey, Ireland‟s foremost

playwright, endured until their mortal deaths.

Michael's mother, Kathleen, who also mentored his writing skills, was a friend of

Dolores Ibarruri, Spain's Civil War revolutionary La Pasionaria. A consummate

traveler, after visiting over 60 countries, Michael now lives in Spain. He described

himself as first and foremost a devoted son of Eurasia.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A poet does not work in isolation. The inkwell is his heart, inspiration the natural

tapestry of landscape, beautiful women, and life. I pay tribute to my wife, Nadia, my

son Craig and his wife Victoria, and my son Michael. I dedicate my verse to Face

Book friends who, directly or indirectly, inspire so many of my compositions. Their

continued enthusiasm is a driving force and source of both strength and enjoyment.

They are, in a word, family.

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TITLES BY MICHAEL WALSH

Amazon Book and Kindle editions of these Michael Walsh collections are

beautifully illustrated. Each book features a little over 60 delightful

compositions with appropriate images. These are guaranteed to please you and

make the perfect gift.

POETRY TITLES

HEART TO HEART Volume One

HEART TO HEART Volume Two

HEART TO HEART Volume Three

WHISPERING HOPE

WINE THOUGHTS

ALL I ASK IS A TALL SHIP

IMMORTAL BELOVED

A SYMPHONY OF VERSE

FORTY SHADES OF VERSE

FOR THOSE WHO CANNOT SPEAK

EUROPE ARISE

NON POETRY

THE FIFTH COLUMN Volume One

THE FIFTH COLUMN Volume Two

TONI MULDOON THE DREAM SNATCHER

THE BUSINESS BOOSTER

Michael Walsh's poetry-music has been compiled by noted Italian video

impresario, Carlo Gallozzi. Such is the enchantment of these exquisite poetry-

video productions that the number of You Tube views quickly surpassed those

of household name recording stars.

The Oldest Love Letter. Poetry by Michael Walsh

The Girl I Met in May. Poetry by Michael Walsh

My Auburn Ma Vourneen. Poetry by Michael Walsh

Ma Vourneen – (My Darling). Poetry by Michael Walsh

Michael Walsh Poetry narrated by Michael Walsh

Conservation of the world’s peoples composed and narrated by Michael Walsh

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TRIBUTES TO

THE POETRY OF MICHAEL WALSH

Michael Walsh verse receives tributes from all over the world. Whilst all

commendations are equal the better known contributors include Susan Lee, Women‟s

Editor, Liverpool Echo, Willy Russell (playwright Shirley Valentine, Blood

Brothers), Colin Wilkinson Bluecoat Press, Liverpool.

“I was delighted to read your poetry on Liverpool and enjoyed it immensely.” ~ Ken

Dodd, Britain‟s most loved entertainer.

Ken Dodd, Singer, Comedian, songwriter and actor

“The Archbishop (Liverpool) asked me to tell you how much he enjoyed the enclosed

verse.” ~ Graeme Brady, Metropolitan Cathedral of Christ the King.

“May I say well done? Your poems are brilliant and everyone who reads them will

identify with most. I enjoyed them very much.” ~ Barbara Noble, Co-founder Nobles

of Liverpool.

“You are doing for Liverpool what Robert Service did for the Yukon ~ immortalising

it in a timeless way.” ~ Bernard C. Cooper, Guild of Master Craftsmen.

“The poems are extremely interesting and make good reading, especially in the

evening when returning from work.” ~ Robert Burns, MD. (Mr. Burns was the

originator of the Irish theme public houses).

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FOREWORD

Michael Walsh traces his Liverpool family roots back to 1865, the year his great

grandmother arrived in the city from Ireland. His family background is Donegal,

Wexford and Tipperary. His parents were born at the turn of what was to become the

most tumultuous in human history. Both were passionately immersed in the politics

of the period. Upon reaching his fortieth birthday, Michael's father, Patrick, had

fought in four conflicts. An associate and friend of war correspondent Ernest

Hemingway and Irish playwright Sean O'Casey, he married former novice nun,

Kathleen Walsh. His mother's friends included Spanish revolutionary, Prime Minister

'La Pasionaria' Dolores Ibarruri, Liverpool sculptor Arthur Dooley and Irish writer

Brendan Behan.

On leaving school at 15 years of age, Michael spent ten weeks at the Merchant Navy

School for Sailors in Sharpness. During his years at sea he was to visit over 60

countries. With the Beatles, the Mersey Sound, and Liverpool Football Club putting

Liverpool firmly on the world map it was a great time to be alive.

The Earthlings, a group managed by his brother, bass guitarist being his youngest

brother Paul, performed at The Cavern and other Liverpool city clubs. Gravitating

around the city centre and Dock Road, Michael became familiar, friendly or

associated with those whose names are now synonymous with the period.

Still held in great affection, Cy Tucker, Hillsiders, Karl Terry, Earl Preston, John and

Pat Cordwell, Les and Tricia Brown of Coopers Emporium, and legendary blues

guitarist Gary Potter. Balladeer Charlie Landsborough praised Michael‟s verse.

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Our Liverpool bard was a regular visitor to the studio of Roger Phillips of BBC Radio

Merseyside. He sailed with boxing legend Dom Volante, delivered Dixie Dean‟s

morning milk. Then there was Ricky Tomlinson who was a friend during the early

days of political awareness. Also to be mentioned with great affection, Frankie

O'Connor, and Jukebox Box Eddie, who played with Gerry Lee Lewis. This was the

background in which Michael found inspiration. Noreen, Michael's sister, was an

inseparable friend of Anita Cochrane. A daily visitor to Michael's family home in

Waterloo, Anita went on to bear the child of Paul McCartney's talented child.

Michael provides articles for numerous magazines and international news media. In

2011 he was awarded 'Writer of the Year' by the publishers of Europe's highest

circulation free newspaper. He has authored nearly thirty books, ghosted as many

more.

From 1999 – 2000 his poetry collections were selling more quickly than any other

contemporary poetry anthology. In Liverpool alone 3,000 copies of A Sea Veneer of

Merseyside and Believin‟ of Liverpool were snapped up in weeks. Michael is likely

Britain‟s most prolific living poet.

This collection focuses on call of the sea, Liverpool, and the characters who moulded

his character through his earlier years as a young Liverpool sailor. Testimonials and

tributes poured in over many years. Those paying homage to his unique gift include

those Ken Dodd, Bernard Cooper (Guild of Master Craftsmen); Archbishop of

Liverpool, Rt. Hon. John Prescott, MP, former Deputy Prime Minister, and many

publishers and editors. Other tributes came in from Robert Burns (Irish theme pubs

founder); Willy Russell, playwright: (Shirley Valentine, Blood Brothers). Tributes to

his poetry, far too many to quote here continue to pour in from all over the world.

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“Poets are suspended between life

As you know it and life as they know it.” - Michael Walsh.

CONTENTS

The Kiss of the Wind

A Tall Ship

The Little Wave

The Faithless Lover (The Sybarite)

The Call of the Sea

I Wish I Were an Ocean Wave

The Haunting of the Grecian

The Storm

The Sun, the Wind and the Schooner

The Ship's Watchman

The Ghostly Bell

The Sailor's Farewell

The Sailor's Return

The Liver Birds

My Cunard Jumper

Oh, Still the Night

My Little Terraced Home

The Kings who walk on Water?

The Rover's Return

The Man Who Walked on Music

Murphy's Salute

The Pilgrim on the Cart

Madeleine

The Neck of Wine

Memorable Moments

Where's My Girl

My Liverpool Marie

My Liverpool Love

Peggy Sue

Atlantic Swells

Liverpool Girls

In Tribute to the Beatles

Vive le Difference

What About my Julie

To Clone a Beautiful Woman

The Scouse Family of Murphyside

Coopers Clock

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My Grafton Girl

The Honorary Scouser

The Tragedy of Hillsborough

The Outcast (Of Liverpool)

My Drinking Friends

Grey Flannels and Boots

The Tart Behind the Bar

The Siren at the Mersey Bar

I Used to Know Your Mum You Know

The Resurrection

My Own Liverpool

The Shadow on the Beer Mat

The Libertine

The Minus-Millionaire

The Vagrant

The Big Issue

The Upper Crust

The Drinker

The Glass of Wine

No One Throws Panties at Poets

Time Off

Oh, to be in England

I Wish She was Singing Our Song

No One Knows but a Mother

The Fisherman's Fields.

My Little Finger

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THE KISS OF THE WIND

The kiss of the wind that I love best,

Has the tang of the open sea,

Oh, the warm moist air that breathes the west,

Is the wind that sets me free;

Where a man may go to the farthest shore,

Yet return by a different route,

Where the wheel may turn neither north nor south,

As he sails to the siren's lute.

Aye, the west wind's drift brings the ocean lift,

With its mournful siren sigh.

Let my spirit free on the western sea,

When it's time for the last goodbye.

But the eastern breeze sings the Viking song,

Where a man may yet be king,

Though it blows so cold from the vicious steppe,

And it mourns for the Arctic ring.

It's a league or more to the neighbour's door,

Where the life is weather run,

But a man may sleep by a ten league moat,

Till his life's complete and done.

And the east wind dear has a message clear,

That a roving man will heed,

For its crisp cold song with the message strong,

Is a pledge for the land you need.

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The southern squall is the plunder wind,

And the spoils of war are sloth,

It's a hammock wind and the watch is charged,

With a care worn eye and oath.

For the warm wind blows from a southern clime,

Where the pirate rover, priest,

With his enterprise and their bible lies,

Win the hearts of the men they fleece.

Oh, the Southern wind is a warm sweet wind,

With a perfume breathing spice,

And it beckons me to the Coral Sea,

And the lure of Paradise.

But the northern wind is a biting wind,

For it flirts with the Arctic waste,

Where the days are short and are bitter cold,

Where the sun sinks down in haste.

And a man may go to his rendezvous,

With defeat and a frozen death;

"I have searched for myself not an earthly end."

Is the curse on his dying breath.

So give me the kiss of the warmer wind,

And the tang of the open sea,

Oh, the soft moist air that breathes the west,

Is the wind that sets me free.

A TALL SHIP

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I saw a tall ship sailing by,

I wept inside, I knew not why,

The spirit of the wind should breathe,

To bring my broken heart to grieve,

For distant shores, a warmer clime,

A place where bougainvillea climb.

I saw a tall ship sailing by,

Its masts were waving to the sky,

And as a compass needle's drawn,

I felt my soul was raised and borne,

Across the seas, across the waves,

Where sailor men cross sailor graves.

I saw a tall ship sailing by,

It flew so fast the foam would fly,

Then as it stood upon the beam,

I wished myself aboard to dream,

Upon the tall ship sailing by,

To seek a place where I might die.

THE STORM

Forked lightning flashed above me, it lit a fearful sight,

Of crashing waves and washing decks and torn sails put to flight,

And through the crashing thunder, designed to scare I'm sure,

I screamed back my defiance; I even called for more,

For this was I and Nature, in combat we were locked,

I raised my arm up to the sky, "Give me more!" I mocked.

Again the lightning fizzled then came straight to my heart,

I begged the storm to give its all and now it played its part,

Excitement grew inside me, though mortal I am free,

And when I saw the stalk of death I would not let it be,

For I would go down fighting, my spirit wouldn't break,

All that it could give me, and more I knew I'd take.

"What's the matter with you?" I screamed back in my rage,

"Is this the best that you can do in this the war you wage?

Unleash your bolts of lightning and let your thunders roar,

And when you've done the worst you can you'll find I'll still want more;"

Again the lightning bolted and I raised my rain-soaked arm,

"Come!" I called contemptuously. "This is but a calm!"

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The gods unleashed their fury yet my boat and I were one,

A clutch of wood to others but to me it was a son,

I fought back burning teardrops, to see my boat so torn,

Broken spars and rigging, yet did it look forlorn?

No never, quite impossible; imbued with fight like I,

It fought the waves, the wind and spray, and joined me in my cry.

"Let your lightning crackle and let your thunders roar,"

The wind rose to a fearful shriek and at the rigging tore,

It vented its full fury and all hell did it set free;

I fought the wind and lightning and my boat fought with the sea,

I shook my fist with fury as my shirt tore from my back,

A crested wave engulfed us both, I heard the lightning crack.

Through the mighty heavens the thunder lasted long,

I held on to the sheets and mast and then gave forth with song,

I had never sung that song before, composed I know not where,

I sung of heroes dead and gone, of valiance deed and dare,

And then I had it beaten and its fury was all gone,

The sea had lost its passion and the worst had now been done.

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What a sight I must have been as on the thwarts I lay,

Exhausted yet still noble, man had won his day,

If I had not defeated the raging storm that night,

If I had failed to win the siege against its raging might,

And death had come to claim me, as yes it might have done,

I would have gone down fighting and still I would have won,

My spirit is unbroken, for that is mine alone,

The earth can have the rest of me,

The flesh, the blood and bone.

MEMORABLE MOMENTS

Some things in this beautiful world are unchanging,

And equal in their effect on the heart;

The sunrise and the sunset.

Bird song and the soaring eagle,

The love sonnet, and the wistful moment:

This reminds me.

Thank you for last evening's memorable moments;

Your held gaze; our hand-held run through the raindrops,

The longing beyond words.

For so many moments,

When there are only two people on earth.

When all that matters are you and I.

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IN TRIBUTE TO THE BEATLES

Four birds of a feather in music and song,

Were released from the bird cage of old,

They sang as they soared on the Liverpool breeze,

Turning dreams of our youth into gold.

From the Cavern of Cobwebs, of past and decay,

Where their song of youth freedom would rise,

To soar past the Liver Birds set upon stone,

And framed against Liverpool skies.

They lifted our hearts with their songs on the air,

And our hopes joined them high on the wing;

As they soared and they sang how our souls were laid bare,

Till they taught the world's children to sing.

Of love and of peace and an ending to war,

Where the power lies greater in love,

When the world will unite in the shadow of flight,

Of four Liverpool birds up above.

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MY LITTLE FINGER

I saw my little finger through the bottom of the glass,

"Oh, here we go again," I said. "Another drink, alas!"

The whisky in the glass's base was thin I have to say,

I tipped the bottle upside down and put some more away.

It tipped, I skipped, my mind a swirl.... oh, heavens I felt good!

The thoughts that flooded through my head were clearly understood;

They brought for me, at least for me, a clear reality,

Beyond my little finger what my life was meant to be.

I saw my little finger through the bottom of the glass,

And saw so very clearly what my life had brought to pass;

I understood.... (you bet I would!), that drink is never wrong;

And I... yes, I.... regret to say, I gave them all a song.

So when my little finger through the bottom of the glass,

Reveals to me Life's secrets and the things that come to pass;

Please, Lord be understanding, let sober men all see,

That I'm the one who understands the world's reality.

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MICHAEL WALSH COLLECTION OF SOME OF THE FINEST POETRY

BY A CONTEMPORARY POET OF INTERNATIONAL REPUTATION

AVAILABLE AMAZON BOOKS AND AMAZON KINDLE

THE POETRY OF MICHAEL WALSH

http://www.spanglefish.com/michaelwalshpoetry/

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OTHER TITLES OF INTEREST

Michael (Walsh) is much more than a poet. Judged „Writer of the Year‟ by the Euro

Weekly News editorial panel, Michael‟s reflections on the world, the good and the

bad, are enjoyed by a readership estimated at over half a million newspaper readers.

If you enjoy Michael‟s style you are sure to find the „Fifth Column‟ newspaper

column collections equally engaging and inspirational. Toni Muldoon The Dream

Snatcher is his exclusive biographical firsthand account of Mediterranean Spain‟s

most successful fraudster.

The Business Booster

For twenty years, 1988 – 2008, Michael Walsh, who had successfully retailed, and

owned several businesses, was head-hunted by the Guild of Master Craftsmen, and

the Federation of Master Builders. Both superlative quality assurance regulatory

trade associations required a business assessment executive with the skill and

integrity to assess and mentor new business members. Over those twenty years,

Michael became something of a legend himself.

The Business Booster, compiled during his semi-retirement, draws on those

experiences. As a business guide it is unique. It is essential reading for any new or

existing business. Michael Walsh is confident that by reading and acting upon the

advice given, any business will break free from the herd and surge upwards and

forward. The Business Booster is the best possible investment any small to medium

sized business can make.

AVAILABLE AMAZON BOOKS AND AMAZON KINDLE

http://www.spanglefish.com/mwpgw/