A poor and loathesome begger Through devious channels Put his filthy long-fingers Onto the head Of a young girls golden curls “You are my child,” he muttered Blindly, his rheumy eyes cauled over “You were birthed in the ancient Fires.” She didn’t cry Even when…

The lady in blue Her dress draped around her Mingling with the ripples In the water of her pool Lined with rocks Softened and Covered in shag carpets Of green and olive moss The lady laughs Her laughter echoes Even dampened by the leaves Of…

Whereupon You must tell them ‘Here stands my other son’ He loved you and he held you dear As Hercules held Uni dear And nursed from her breast And you, my dear Who never would trouble herself As the morning dawn Is too cold and…

Two gasping Quick inhalations And then ‘You have got to learn To wing it Only then can we All flock together” She told me when I was age four Then there was that day The day of Blood They called her grandmother I called her…

In order to make room He lifted the little girl Up into his arms Above her, His face hovered The very aspect of The great Deity Her mother taught her That the rains that fall Nourish the earth And that even buttercups Should not be…

I shall bide Beneath the earth And yes, I’m well aware of How that sounds Then he opened his eyes Well then…. What are we waiting for? So that the blunt monster Will give us all A crock of gold And three wishes His open…

My house Grows in the trees With flowers and moss On the roof Chickens and geese Live so near I can hear them clucking And hooting In their dreams The wind sighs Through the branches Rough pine bark Is only a hands breadth Away Sap…

We now have to consider The gibbet They prayed He would not requite his death With storms or other adversaries A bed full of fleas Was more than merely witty Then came the ballybog Mud covered they rise On their bulbous bodies Arms and legs…

Train tracks like a tattoo Down the arm of my city Bogged down in boom time Every house tells Of another boom that flared Then died Cities aren’t trees They are built for industry Not for beauty Or the practicality Of water and air Or…

I had hoped that Watching my footprints I would stop going in circles The gate master fiddled And asked for my passport I begged the gatekeeper For cider and cake In the old tradition Of wasailing He told me to sing But I couldn’t think…