Wednesday, February 17, 2016

for Thea-Valerie

Come sit with me and let our minds drift
across a surface of polished water glass
Look deep beneath to see what arrives
Perhaps a memory of times past, 
An old yearning sweetly perfumed
As fresh as ever scintillates excites.

I sense your hand on my arm 
Warm and gentle your touch
As we walked a harbour side
It grieved me then knowing
That your dying was soon to be
On a date unknown to us both.

Today as I sit alone and not alone
I hear ripples of laughter,
her voice in deep bluesy songs
That echo from a hidden shore to mine
She is only half a whisper away 
so very very close yet I cannot see…..


© MRL 17-02- 2016

Tuesday, February 2, 2016

SOME CALL HER MOTHER (revised)





Some call her Mother. The Mistress of this land

Her body hidden haunts wild places for man

Whose calloused raw hands worked nippled

Cairns to stand proud on mountains

Hunted, fought bloodily among heathered tresses

Ploughed deeply her fertile plains to feed

Warrior lords, foreign, crippled with greed.

In Her a sea smooth cave, that once sheltered Fintan.

Crabs with dead mens fingers, sought a womb watery grave.

To rebirth rebellion - Freedom and the marrow

Of Her Favour!

She walks still this land breathing out love and inspiration

To those who seek justice for all of her people.

© MRL 1/2/16
last 2 lines added