Michael Pruchnicki - A Town Called Limbo

Far from the raging sea
folks born and bred ashore
live in a town called Limbo
tucked away in a green glen
surrounded by mountains
and miles of spruce forests

Babies born abominably drunk
on mother's milk in Limbo
carouse away the livelong day in song

Postmen in Limbo trudge their routes
with Saint Patrick's shillelagh in hand.
They ask everyone in Limbo-
'A wee gallows with a red rose
was sent to you from the asylum
in fair Roscommon. Did you receive it? '

The wee folk come down to Limbo
every green Spring to play bagpipes,
to dance and to sing in the town
by the light of the midnight sun!

Michael Pruchnicki

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-town-called-limbo/