Monday, 31 March 2014
Sunday, 26 January 2014
An Ode to Winter Gales
I hear high hitched on Leinster wires witches whine
Ugly hags no mother ever conceived nor father sired
Tormented unbodied things born of wild restless winds
Whose shrill screams storm my equilibrium to shreds.
©MRL 26-01-2014
Wednesday, 15 January 2014
Moon Is...
Moon is
subtle
Oval ivory white
countenance
A sensuous glow
disturbs
Who sits in quiet
encourages
Observance
merriment
At least
pleasures
Tempts one
desires
To believe so
love
Innocent
lust
She is an Earthy Woman
©MRL 15-01-2014
Sunday, 29 December 2013
GALE FORCE 12
A Wind as sharp as a surgeons scalpel scythed
cylindrical things trees and wires to fall
dumb on damned storm sodden ground.
Twenty-three hours of south Atlantic gale blew
A thousand banshees to scream. Howl, hanging
on corners of houses, old hags un-prettily dressed.
Merciless waves pounded hard faced cliffs, sentinels
standing doggedly against dull drumbeats of death.
In retrospect. Sense soldiers stories from the Front
of continuous bombardment and lulls of silence
that heralded the wailing of Moaning Minnies.
No War now. Just an atmospheric battle, a hurricane
that a modern God cannot prevent. We rely upon
ancient gods of this island Anu, Bríd, Daghda and Lugh
to intercept on our behalf with their mighty wisdom.
These guardians of animals, crops, fields and rivers
ever alive these proud providers of their people.
Over whose sleeping lands of winter they walk
treading old paths from stone forts to raths.
© MRL 29-12-13
Sunday, 17 November 2013
Into the Heart of Isis
‘Into the Heart of Isis’
On a gibbous november moon she flew
leaving her earthly body
The last breath exhaled returned to source.
Olivia Melian Durdin-Robertson gave
one final act of farewell.
Provided from a secret source
she sprinkled Rosa Mystica on her friends.
A priestess high among many, a pacifist
an artist, an author and a scholar.
She served her dedicated mistress Isis
A life giving service.
Their teachings like stones combined
as mixed marbles of colour
will weather all storms.
Olivia a woman who enjoyed life
who knew heaven was happiness.
Her aristocracy melded well with socialism
giving a generous sincerity to all.
Convivial in company of quiet humour
she enjoyed a glass of port by the fire
As this poor poet and others know.
So do not mourn.
Olivia is not gone from us
for she flew fully alive
to the heart of Isis.
Rather rejoice in all that she taught
in her life’s work of ninety six years.
© MRL 17th Nov 2013
Thursday, 31 October 2013
Hallowe'en
To the door
no child has come
No joy,
No trick or treat
No chocolate given
For the dead
Alone is
Hallowe'en!
©MRL 31st Oct 2013
Friday, 27 September 2013
September's Sun
September's lowering sun shines
Through old green sculpted leaves
Cascading as diamonds bright
A mesmeric tattoo of light
Forms dappled patterns
A moving beauty that creeps
Beneath ancient trees
© MRL Sept 2013
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)