Nettles and dock leaves circle my rose interest until the prince will free the sleeping princess and restore the realm. Proof that the wo...

Surrender your grasp, whatever your cause, on the future and past, for the sake of a pause. We've closed the gates, the keys are hung ...

January is very strong, yet even it cannot last long. The season's weather turns from black, a white endeavour sees Winter pass. F...

Fire and life, fire and life, night is day and day is night. Ritual traced, rites observed, gifts to the kith of the other world, eat an...

My sister is our executrix, what a fancy appellation. Presumably, there will soon be a suitable replacement. Still we hear the terms landl...

No more double Irish, we're big on moral ground. So modern now, and stylish, our book-keeping is sound. Our Revenue Commissioners w...

Sundays then were slow, the sounds were ritual. Mikey at the radio, Nell starting the soup. We wake with sore heads and secrets solemnly s...

The iris opened wide that day, her plaited petals freed. The lilacs had declined to stay, the lupins gone to seed. She looked 'round f...

At the end of the rains we took our places seemingly irreverent to the near sacred act of being outside for pleasure. The children, kneel...

When my frogs were leaving, I thought it no big deal, they're only frogs and even then they weren't real. No croaking noises in ...