Barn owls
Barn owls are unearthly.
On moonlit nights they coast
above the fields in silence,
floating white as ghosts.
They bring me out in goosebumps
and were I mouse or vole,
when barn owls came along the street
and knocked on doors for "trick or treat"
I wouldn't pamper them with sweets,
I'd scurry down my hole!
Monday 2nd December 2024 10:02 am
End of Summer
It’s said that one alone don’t make a Summer
but when there’s none at all, is that when Summer’s gone?
And when there’s nothing up there but a shimmer
of dust from the desert superheated by the sun;
and when the sheds and barns remain in silence
from April to October; when radiance that shone
on midge-full fields no longer flicks on mindless
scything wings and sideslippings ...
Saturday 15th June 2024 9:26 am
Recent Comments
Graham Sherwood on The Forgotten
27 minutes ago
Rolph David on Sonnet: Imigh Hotovely, Imigh Smál Damnaithe! Imigh is Póg mo Thóin! [Out Hotovely, Out Damned Spot! Out and Kiss my Arse!]
1 hour ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on His Majesty’s Stay Out of Hell Cards: “Divine Right” and “Convention”
1 hour ago
Hélène on Elementary
2 hours ago
Rolph David on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
2 hours ago
Rolph David on Spinocracy – The Art of the Fall*
2 hours ago
Tim Daly on Prayer for the Little Ones
2 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Prayer for the Little Ones
3 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on Prayer for the Little Ones
3 hours ago
Stephen Gospage on August 2025 Collage Poem: A Cut Above
3 hours ago