A poetic licence to experiment
A good wife is hard to find
I am lucky I’ve found mine
Her eyes light up every day
Her heart is good in every way
Her smile and laughter her giddy ways
Just blow my blues out far away
Her inner kindness just warms my heart
I miss her greatly when we’re apart
Lonliness 
The feral pigeons fly overhead
Searching out for crumbs of bread
Old People sit in the park below
In heat and cold and rain and snow.
Others curse the vermin birds
And shout at them with cruel words
Why can’t they just understand
That for the poor and not so grande
They are just a lifeline that is close at hand
Jpoet7
This morning my walk took me up the quays left across the Liffey and into old Dublin. I walked up Thomas street past alpha bargains ( a name familiar from my youth)and a host of small stores, not a sign of a department store, tea rooms and the pubs open for coffee. I stepped into St. Catherines, a cup of tea and a short talk on the Liberties. Then as you do, into Adam and Eve’s for a short prayer. As I walked on through the narrow streets it’s terrible to say that I wasn’t at all surprised when On the corner I came upon two males shooting up in broad daylight, it is residential area where children play outside. I understand that addiction is a sickness but there are limits to what the residents should have to put up with. I walked back down past the architecturally new civic buildings which now sit I think nicely into the Christ church area. Back across the bridge and into the Four Courts area which was now alive with solicitors and barristers laden down with case files ready for another profitable day in court. I’m glad now that I ventured out and looked forward to tomorrow.
I just stepped out from the car
My lungs filled up with air
I just knew within my heart
I was meant to be right there
The sunlight on the headland
The cattle all out grazing
The goats and sheep o’er in the hills
It was utterly amazing
That evening I strolled along Keel beach
Cool waters lapping ’round my ankles
In the distance seabirds could be heard
For such memories to be thankful
My time spent out in the west
Too short but to be savoured
From Westport out to Achill
A touch of heaven just a flavour
Sun glinting on the landscape
Cool breezes split the air
Seagulls swaying overhead
I wander, without care.
Some People pass by silently
With their minds on other things
And the traffic in the distance
What a different tune it sings.
I walk along reflectively
These lyrics come to mind
My heart beats all that faster
Another maze of words defined
She remembers her wedding day well,everybody told her how beautiful she had looked and how lucky she was to be marrying such a fine specimen of a man. She was so happy back then.They had moved into a bungalow on a quiet street, John ,her husband was well respected by his friends and peers. They had gone out together socially in the first year, and although he drank a little too much at times she could handle his mood swings. That was until the first child arrived, she had found it hard to cope and got depressed. John had started going to the pub alone, staying out longer, he didn’t seem to understand . Things got tense between them. He started to get angry, and then he hit her , for the first time, he apologised of course, they made love , he went to work and all looked good…
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I recently found myself standing outside Hedigans public house. I was debating with myself whether to enter or not. You see it was a class reunion of 40 plus years go. I have always looked on these occasions as a get together of lawyers, barristers, accountants and the suited gentry all swigging wine and congratulating themselves on how well they have done.
I don’t know about you but I tend at times to see other “successful” people as being better off. This of course is nonsense. When I take the time to see what it is I have rather than what I believe other people possess I realise very quickly how lucky and yes successful I really am.
Let me return to Hedigans I entered sat at the bar ordered a pint, still reluctant to dip my toe into the unknown. I browsed through a magazine glancing around to see if I recognised faces from the past, hoping maybe that I had made a mistake and gotten the date wrong. But there was no escape, there in the snug were gathered a group of grey haired ( those that had hair) men enjoying a chat. I picked up my pint and ventured in. It was like the 40 year gap never existed, ok there was an accountant a professor a few senior civil servants but at the end of the day they were school pals. We laughed, recalled good times and bad spoke of those who had passed away and drank a few pints. We left promising to do it all again next year.
As I rambled home to my beautiful wife and my 8 year old son ( yes they were surprised ) knowing that they were sleeping peacefully and contentedly I realised that what I have and who I am are what is important. I think maybe that we spend too much time wondering what other people are doing rather than being thankful for what we possess.
Jpoet7
I remember you daddy oh so well
We mark the spot on where you fell.
Each Christmas I come visit here
And find your name and shed a tear.
Your picture on the dresser
In your uniform impressed.
You’re always in our memories
And hope that you in heaven rest.
Jpoet7
jpoet7/Joseph Black Photography 