in thought

deep thought

crests of former waves

and time in the crimson courtroom



playing tennis under Autumn’s strongest sun

living in the car, travelling far

travelling far far away from the placid shore front

of a dreary Donaghadee

those grey paving stones still speak of your heroic exploits

on other continents

proud, if only they knew, of your soldiering

firing upon nameless enemies, glancing with disgust at the

biggest foe … the boldest soul, embracing true and cold bravado

blasting other cultures with hands like knotted rope, salted by the side of

the Brothers



all gone now

still is the dream

but I remain fighting amongst the gorse and gristle of

a potent, mythically enchanted landscape

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