Monday, 17 August 2020

I stared enthralled

Recently while I was drinking coffee outside of the Russell Gallery at New Quay, Co. Clare I had a lucid experience of a strange happening on the far shore of Aughinish, between sea caves in the cliff and the ruins of a derelict farm house close to the pebbled beach.

Being so moved I decided to write a poem about my experiences.

I Stared enthralled

I stared enthralled

as miller’s grit- shards

shimmered streamed

clothed a rivers air

My mind ran free seeing

Figures of every age converse

convivially move as before.

Silent souls, opaque beings

on death’s opposite shore.

©MRL August 2020 

Sunday, 23 September 2018


Above long purple velvet boots
Stride shapely legs determined
To walk a unique path

From shoulder swings a purple bag
Contents can be guessed or not
Somethings are better left alone.

On her head perhaps a purple hat
Her gloved hand may one day hold
A walking aid to strike railings loud

Time will tell if all this comes true
I make bold to predict
A fun future of eccentric liberty

For She who wears well Purple !

© MRL  Sept 23rd 2018

Saturday, 18 August 2018


I grappled with dappled plum pie

consumed fruity dished depths

Slurping sweet sickly treat 

that clung to chin quickly

a greedily gobbled dessert

And now my belly hurts.

© MRL August 2018

Thursday, 22 February 2018

Conformity never a fault of mine

It was all so long ago those other lives of mine
I was a son to parents that I did not understand
A pupil for teachers to lead me by the nose
To policeman who stopped to interrogate my moves
They’re now all gone, the authoritarians to their graves
While I in my preciousness am still alive, always a rebel !

Independent thought is my means to find another way
Look at old problems turn them on their head
Every scene looks better when turned up side down
Life is a spiral they say, except that I jumped its lines
My indomitable spirit threw away their rule book
For conformity has never been a fault of mine.

I am and shall remain on the outer edges of the lines
Escaping by forms that go beyond expectations
Living the life of freedom, committed to eccentricity
Challenging political nonsense, lifting lids peering
Beyond the stale and stalled to seek an alternative
Prance ostentatious ? Yes that it may be but mine!

I seek not followers, for lead I shall not
Other than to encourage you to find freedom
To think and inwardly deliberate on how to abscond
Those chains of command, rules and obdurate laws.
For I drank before my birth from a cup that screamed
Loudly of Liberty!

   © MRL 22/02/2018

Thursday, 28 December 2017



Grey clouds flow from Northern sky

with double-edged Puritan intent

Flexing sharp scythes to sweep

southern slopes on Shannon drowned pastures

A dismal day’s dark display of religion

The twenty-fifth of the twelfth month

Gone now and far away.

As dead as slaughtered birds

beneath a butchers knife,

A cold turkey.

©MRL 2017

Tuesday, 7 November 2017


Thrown back in time
No fault of my own.

As watery light falls
Greenly through glass

While fumes flow lazily
Up black chimney stack

Smiling smoke turf flavoured
An ambrosian dessert for all

On this ancient day
Ruled by sullen sky

 SAMHAIN has birthed
A new season

Winter is her name

born on
 7th November 2017

Heralded by a shaft of Light
in Tara’s Mound of the Hostages.

© MRL 7/11/17

Friday, 23 June 2017


As lips 

partially apart

open forms 

free fall

gentle notes

musical airs

auricular shapes

whispered whims


phrase fruited 




©MRL JUNE 23 2017