I am glad this time of year, I am glad it's nearly done, I am glad to stop and breathe, I am glad when drummers drum. I am glad to h...

Here is told a story sad, of arán and im and, of course, ham. A petrol station is the scene, and the year is twenty and eighteen. Ár mb...

Ready for action Now she can tie her laces Up another step. ( When my daughter, Sadie, learned to tie her shoelaces it made me think of ...

Tá m'iníon bheag níos sine beagnach críochnaithe deich mbliana. Nuair a thóg mé abhaile í bhí na sméara dubha lán 's aibí. Tá n...

A pale blue night in the silent garden brings my eye to heights before silhouettes descend to underscore eerie paths back at ground lev...

The Child Of Pragues are staving off the rain for the f ê ting of the man who wants to build walls. There are freshly stained benches ma...

Hopes and fears summed up in a calcium spiral cup. A life's work left to us who inherit the earth. Just one story left by the s...

So many sets of many songs of life and death and rights and wrongs. So many contests, none so rare as where commenced The Derry Air. ...

Dearest Uri Gellar, in the stainless steel dimension, I submit my open letter to implore your intervention. My husband talks all year a...

The birds fly left and then back right, Catfiáin is mesmerised. He crouches low and hides his legs, peering just above the ledge. His i...