Fuschia in a garden on the Northside.
With the extreme heat that we are experiencing at present it’s worth keeping in mind the dangers associated be it fire or water. So enjoy it while it lasts and make sure to leave everything as you found it.
On the lake reflections shimmer
Dawn breaks, sunshine glistens
Shadows stretching, dappled
By cotton clouds scantily scattered.
Morning moisture scenting sweet.
Hidden now a cuckoo calls
Rustling leaves fall. slowly
I ramble along pathways
Resting in the arms of nature.
Songbird’s sweet serenade.
Hesitate a moment
Let the day begin.
J.Poet 7 ( wordverse.me )
Yesterday was damp and dull but still colour bloomed in the Botanic Gardens
I must not go any further without mentioning my parents for without them I would not be here today . My father was a quiet lovely hardworking man who loved his pipe his horses and my mother, not quite in that order of course. He was a gentleman in every sense of the word and would not harm a fly. I remember going to work with him, he was a tanker driver with Irish Shell. The big powerful petrol truck ,the sinews straining in the muscles to contain the power of the engine in his hands. We would stop and have tea from the flask and sandwiches by the side of the road, it was exciting to be out in the country and to see how easy it was for my father to converse with all the people he would meet in his travels. The other thing that I remember about him are silvermints sweets he would always purchase at the start of the day. My mother on the other hand worked in the home, which I can see looking back wasn’t an easy task, the old black gas cooker, no washing machine and all those clothes and dishes, work, work, work, never hungry, never sad ,that I can remember anyway, my mother had to be a wizard in philosophy, economics, relationships, a cleaner, a chef and a friend ,but was not shy at times to produce the wooden spoon, enough said. They both loved the bingo, their only escape from the daily running of the home, both teetotallers although never objected to any of their children drinking. The old photos of my parents beam the love and affection that they had for each other. I admire my mothers strength and her unwavering religious belief, seen especially after the passing of my father, which must have been a real test of all that she believed in. Of course she had lost her confidante and friend, but none of this seemed to impact on her everyday job of keeping her family together.
A short excerpt from a piece I wrote some time ago.
And a poem remembering my Father
A beautiful set from a talented artist
It finally happened! A burst of creativity recently overcame me and I have produced several new oil paintings. Here they are. Some of them might be subject to some small changes, or I may just leave them be. I’ll think about it.
Average size 27 x 21 inches.
From Clogher Beach, with The Sleeping Giant (Inis Tuaisceart) in the background
Near Clogher Beach, on the Cuas na nEighe path.
Blasket Islands from Béal Átha, Dún Chaoin.
From Clogher Beach
From Inch Beach.
From Clogher Beach, with view of Sleeping Giant.
I was once accused of painting too many sea pictures – but I live on a peninsula. One can’t avoid being seduced by the wonderful power of the ocean and it’s ever changing colours, movement and moods. If seascapes are your thing, please take a look this tag on my website:
Oh those twisting sleepless nights
Future fears that come to light
Waking dreams imagined screams
Tensions tearing at the seams.
Afraid to open up your eyes
Praying for that big surprise
Knowing it will be the same
Still playing that existence game.
Life has many twists and turns
That candle in the window burns
A glimmer in the morning light
That Dawn will not be full of fright.
Realize it’s just a dream
Things may not be as they seem
There is always goodness to be found
In this daily battleground.
J.Poet 7 ( wordverse.me )