There is a lament on the whispering wind in the year I turn 50, time wakens like the druid, while …
Ennui by Susan Robertson
Don’t ask me, I really can’t be arsed, Zoom this, Zoom that, I want to be alone. Don’t you understand …
In the Meadow. A poem by Fran Bardsley
They surge into the meadow like an unstoppable force; Two golden retrievers unleashed, fueled by pure unbridled joy Their long …
My Dad by Ciarán Myers
who had his left hand whipped by a meter stick for using it to dot his ‘i’swho fed the cats …