'Looking Back' – poetry by the late Willie John McCann (RIP)

13 July 2010

The family of a popular south Derry man who passed away several years ago has published a selection of his own poems to honour his memory.

Greenlough man Willie John McCann died in January 2007 after a short illness leaving a catalogue of poems many of which focus on the people and places he encountered during his lifetime.

Willie John was a great friend to the Gig’n the Bann festival - a talented photographer he was always available to capture the many memorable moments of the festival.

‘Looking Back’ has been published by Willie John’s wife Alice, son Tommy and daughters Geraldine and Maura. His family published the book after Willie John indicated before his death that he would like to see his work in print with any proceeds raised going to the Greenlough Parish Building Fund.

While some of Willie John’s work is fused with wit and keen social observation, other poems reflect on the deeply personal.

The oldest of nine children, Willie John was born in Henrystown, between Portglenone and Bellaghy, and lived most of his life in the parish of Greenlough. His interests extended beyond writing and Willie was a well known local photographer.

In the poetry book’s foreword Willie John’s brother Gerald explained his motivation.

He said: “The subject matter of his poetry reflects his interest in and yearning for the past, particularly his own early life and the vivid images from it that were ever present with him; his fascination with the River Bann; his interest in the people he met and the events that took place in his everyday world; and his reflections on the meaning and purpose of life.

The book can be purchased at McCann’s Service Station in Portglenone and all proceeds raised will go to the Greenlough Parish Building Fund.

‘Enchanted Waters’ is one of the poems in the collection:

Enchanted Waters
I dipped my oars near Portglenone,
One evening falling fine;
And to Bracknamuckley forest
Then rowed to pass the time;
 
Wild trout in rings were rising
Where a line curled with a fly;
And beyond the Clady’s peaty run
I rowed where salmon lie;
 
Where a willow trailed its branches
In water rushing clear,
A kingfisher upon its perch
Flew off as I drew near;
 
Swallows skimmed the darkening waves
As night fell with a chill,
And the setting sun was sinking red
Behind McMullan’s hill;
 
The mist fell down upon me
And I heard a stone-age man
As he chipped the flint to make the tools,
That lie along the Bann;
 
People here were singing
As they watched a kiln burn,
And a wisp of smoke was rising
Where they made a poiteen run;
 
A swan appeared to beckon
A spirit of the Bann!
I rowed away, it followed,
Until I reached the land;
 
They say it has the power
To take one back in time!
On beating wings it left me -
Cols shivers on my spine;
 
Here often falls the midst of time
Enchanted by a swan;
Forever creaks the dipping oar
As night falls on the Bann.