past (Remove filter)
Holding the hand of the model maker
Today I have been holding the hand of the model maker.
With my brush I attempt to make good -
as they say.
He died soon after he finished
a wonderful re-incarnation
of our lost harbour.
He made it as light relief while working on
some effigy of violence.
That was his real job.
I like to think of him
losing himself in ...
Sunday 27th February 2011 6:25 pm
Recent Comments
Holden Moncrieff on Not Every Eye
1 hour ago
Holden Moncrieff on Better Sight...
3 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on 'What can writers and poets possibly do in the age of Trump, Farage and Starmer?'
3 hours ago
Mike McPeek on Civilities
4 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
5 hours ago
John Marks on EVEN THE OLIVES ARE BLEEDING
5 hours ago
Hélène on Better Sight...
5 hours ago
Hélène on I SHAN’T ALWAYS BE LOVELY
5 hours ago
Nigel Astell on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
7 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Where is THIS Jerusalem?
7 hours ago