Design a site like this with
Get started


By Frank McHugh

                                         don’t cry

               hold your head up high

           keep it out of the water

     my suffering daughter

a green-lined basket

voided of the Sunday collection

filled with cheap mints was

passed around  

for the children

at Easter Sunday mass

by a perjink wee priest

a good one, gentle, humble

              hold your head up high

           keep it out of the water

    don’t cry

my suffering daughter

I looked her in the eye

tried to find a reason

not to stab her 

in the chest

saw in there the rage

that gripped her that held

her screaming child

in the scalding water

                                    don’t cry

            hold your head up high

      keep it out of the water

my suffering daughter

Frank McHugh writes poetry in both Scots and English. He also writes songs and plays. His poetry has been published in Gutter, Acumen Poetry, New Writing Scotland, The Glasgow Review of Books, SurVision, The Cabinet of Heed, Bonnie’s Crew, the Bangor Literary Journal and The Runt. He is one of three poets in the Tree Poets collection published later this year by Hedgehog Press and is one of four poets on the Clydebuilt programme. He is a teacher out of necessity, a poet out of compulsion and plays drums for fun. He lives on the beautiful Ayrshire Coast.

Leave a review

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s