A Ditch Daffodil
dark thought
in sunset
beckoning
to kneel
by an oak
in a coppice
with sadness
until each
passing moment
life's ebbing ordeal
received inspiration
from a ditch daffodil
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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A Woman Of The Land
a hazel stick
over animal shanks
dark features
with a frown
once a ballroom star
but a wife now grown
her wedding gift
a stubborn farm
with dreams buried
in reluctant soil
an optimist but
reality slowly dawned
with the growth of time
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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The Youthful Season
Akin to scent
Is the air I breathe,
Our feathered friends
Follow the plough,
And into the womb
Of mother earth
Is set the seed which is
The bread of man,
Prefect of nature's realm.
In these my winter years
I let the windows
Of my soul gaze upon
The herald of summer:
Sweet spring,
Creative spring -
Spring the season of youth!
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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The Carrickatine
(from an ancient womb
death arose claiming
fruit of the birth)
Bow receiving blows
From a fearsome foe
As a fishing boat
Sailed for home.
An autumn storm
Bringing pain and
Loss to the kindred
Of fisher men.
Off the Irish coast
A turbulent sea
Spewed proof that
She had won.
Immune to the hopes
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poem by Liam ó Comáin
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The Song Of The Driver
(after Lorca)
Over ice, down hills,
Blue car, pale moon,
Love is calling me
To a fireside in Derry.
(Chorus)
Oh Derry, Derry, Derry,
My own lovely Derry
The capital of the north
West of Erin.
Sure the journey is long
But the car it is sound
As I drive over hills
And through valleys.
(Chorus)
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poem by Liam ó Comáin
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Urban Effusion
the greys of the city
lingered and deepened
in its aged structures
a mature effusion
beneath wearing rain
and wind and sun
an elemental artistic
achievement visualising
the demise of urban
reality
here and there
within the inner city
pockets of concrete
and synthetic blossoms
brightened the shadows
of ancient abodes
reminiscent of the
floriferous space
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poem by Liam ó Comáin
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In The Sperrin Mountains
A hawk hangs
like the cross
beam of a crucifix
above the only
farmyard for miles.
Across heather
the smell of turf
is borne by a
summer's breeze.
An old photo
of my father's father
holding reins
upon a load
of Sperrin turf
his bearded face
similar to my own.
And my father
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poem by Liam ó Comáin
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The Barn Dance
they came from here and there
across fields and along country lanes
by car on foot and by bicycle
to the red barn for the annual dance
country folk young and old
grandfathers and grandmothers
set for a night of socialising
some under the weather and a few
townies hunting a bit of romance
malodgins fiddles tin whistles
and a few aspiring mccormacks
and delia murphy's added to the warmth
of the occasion while outside a starry
sky witnessed to the encroachment
of a heavy frost
poem by Liam ó Comáin
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The Drowning
Raven haired
With a dark
Complexion,
Small for her age,
A bit tom- boyish
But well liked.
With two friends
She left for
The woods
After tea time,
It being July-
A hot summer.
Later upon leaving
The cinema
With some friends
I sensed something
Was wrong as I
Approached home.
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poem by Liam ó Comáin
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What Christmas Means To Me
The anniversary of the birth
Of Our Lord Jesus Christ
Born of Mary the Blessed
To save us from perdition
That's what
Christmas
Means to me.
The greatest gift to be
Received by humanity
Wrapped in swaddling
Clothes in a manger
That's what
Christmas
Means to me.
A parcel of Love delivered
From Loves Source
For us to love one another
Via the grace of His Spirit
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poem by Liam ó Comáin
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