This Quiet House – a Poem for Galway 2020
There are ghosts in this quiet house. I pause under John Wayne’s arm . . .
For Dylan – a Poem on Dylan Day
You of the spiral-shell curls; the sea-chained voice. No wonder the waves made a play for your soul . . .
In Bloom – for Poetry Day Ireland
When I heard that this year’s theme for Poetry Day Ireland was ‘There will be Time’, I thought of this poem. ‘In Bloom’ is a poem of childhood – the stage of life when we think we have so much time, when time seems to open up before us. For me, it opened up as…
Body of Sound – Poem for U2
and the drums make a song of our heartbeats, lead them to stronger rhythms . . .
Leaping Fairy – A Poem for Good Friday
I’ve always been fascinated by the story of the Cottingley Fairies. At the age of seven, the thought of two girls managing to capture images of the most illusive of creatures was sustaining. If there could be proof of magic, there could be proof that life was extraordinary and I would continue to believe. Some…
Crown – Poem
This new poem, ‘Crown’ is inspired by the threat of coronavirus and examines the image of the crown (corona, in Latin) as an unwanted fate. The closest we can get to ‘running free’ in these circumstances is to get outside for some fresh air. I have been particularly moved by video footage of Italian people,…
Changeover – Spring Poem
The poem, ‘Changeover’ was written after a spell of extreme weather and holds a lot of hope. There may be a few storms left to come, but I’m ready to welcome spring. There is certainly a little more light in the day — daffodils and crocuses are raising their heads and when we do get…
Valentine’s Day – Poem
I see Valentine’s Day as an opportunity to celebrate love in all its forms. Last year, I was treated to homemade heart-shaped biscuits in bed, delivered by my eldest daughter, who is now five. They were delicious! My husband can be romantic, on occasion, and sometimes surprises me with a special gift or gesture. One…
More than Winter – Poem
I was so young. I stood at the edge of a waterfall, cried her happy tears, let her dress me in silver-white, a lace so fleeting, it could not be shaped.