Ulster, Botanic and Ice Cream

A poem by Lorcan McCusker, age 12, Belfast

Ulster, Botanic and Ice Cream, by Lorcan McCusker. Illustration: Sinéad Farry
Walking through the Garden, excited but calm,

The sun rains down its rays, forcing me to put on a balm.

The building rises up before me, modern and new,

I still enjoyed going there, though everything I knew.


The entrance is bland, no friend for a cordial greeting,

But my family and I shall soon go on a greeting.

Walking into the main hall, my sister running,

My heart is like electricity, it’s humming.


We walk up the ramp, the lizard awaiting.

My mum speaks of my posture, my back begins straightening.

We look up at the beast, our eyes in awe.

Outside a crow begins to caw.


Walking through the place filled with joy,

We see the creepy mummy, who is definitely not a boy.

We see old, so very old, deer, we have loved;

We have loved them through their tasty flesh, which we have killed.


Seeing the aquatic wonders, forgetting how false they are.

A couple of drunks walk by, just out from the bar.

The rocks are always boring, they just seem so afar,

Heading towards the exit, the door ajar.


Dad suggests we take a walk; the idea is met with applause.

Round the gardens we go; my sister constantly demanding a pause.

Approaching the house as warm as the rainforest, the flowers blooming outside.

Walking as long as we want, our time we bide.


I suggest ice cream; we go to my favourite place.

Nugelato; the name seemingly means grace.

Sitting down, ice cream in hand,

Our relationship is tight in love, a secure bond.