Memories Amidst the Drumlins: Terence O'Gorman

Memories Amidst the Drumlins: Terence O’Gorman

The dozens of poems and stories of the late Terence O’Gorman, Tullyvogey, containing his memories amidst the drumlins of Cavan and Monaghan will shortly be available in print. Over the past two years, his daughter Patricia Cavanagh, President of the ICA in Co. Monaghan, has carefully compiled and edited this literary treasure, which provides a wonderful record of the lifestyle of South Ulster from the 1930s until the turn of the Century.

Some of the poems were written to mark special occasions such as birthdays and weddings of family and friends and there were also tributes to those who had passed away. This collection is a wonderful tribute to Terence, who came from Lavey in Co. Cavan and who was a familiar figure in and around Tydavnet and Monaghan, where he worked at St Davnet’s Hospital for many years. The book includes a number of poems he wrote for his friends and work colleagues on their retirement from St Davnet’s. He died in 2003.

The book will be launched by Michael Fisher from Drumcoo Woods, Director of the William Carleton Summer School, on the opening day of the school in Monaghan. You are invited to attend a reception at the Four Seasons Hotel, Coolshanagh, on FRIDAY 2nd AUGUST at 6pm. There are 340 pages in the book and it will sell for €15.

Terence was a regular visitor to the annual Carleton event as well as attending other literary festivals throughout the country. Patricia Cavanagh spoke about the book at the launch of the William Carleton Summer School programme at the Writers’ Centre in Dublin in June. Her contribution can be viewed here:   Patricia Cavanagh on ‘Memories Amidst the Drumlins’

 We remember him with one of his poems written in the early 1970s:-

The Moon over Bogesky       

In olden days I oft’ did see
As over Bogesky hill did rise
A crescent slender lighting up
The otherwise darkening, evening skies.

And folk would say, a man was there
Upon that moon and bending o’er,
The weight of heavy broom branch
That in clasped hands, was said he bore.

As better schooled we did become
We knew that this was fairy tale
The markings that we then could see
The lunar lines of hill and dale.

But now the legends come alive,
Not broomsticks now they’ve in their hands
But instruments of science there
To dig among the satellite sands.

Though long ago it seemed remote
Thus mans ambition to fulfil
Yet humans have kicked up the dust
Of that crescent high o’er Bogesky hill.

(© Terence O’Gorman MMXIII)