Vintage Cards, my new passion - Lady in Pink

Magnolia White

Magnolia petals

beneath a March sky,

clouds ribboned with sunlight.

I sit on the balcony in Trier,

five floors high

above foreign trees

bursting with spring.

Rooftops, slate grey

undulate the city scape.

Distant hills breathing,
still winter brown

along the Moselle river.

It is early for boat trips

to lazy lunch in Saarburg.

Surrounded by apartments,

so many lives hidden
Behind concrete walls.

There is only the hum of trafic,

no birdsong here,
but the Cherry trees
are in full bloom.

Banbridge memories

I awaken

with allergies and chills,

my head swollen

with Banbridge hedgerows.

A breeze chases through the open door

cases and coats in a pile

the exodus from Loft House to Oak.

Later I stroll down to the farmhouse

with Jack and James,

a gentle slope underfoot.

The curve of a gnarled apple trunk

stands centre stage, devoid of fruit.

Leaning over the wooden fence

fallen pippins circle the yard,

rosy ripe, pecked by the birds.

A vegetable patch lies dormant

like a burial mound,

remnants of potato drills

smothered in weeds,

and I think of young hands

that once worked the land,

raised generations of family

not so long ago.

The cock crows from a distant fields.

I look to five light hill

and sigh,

our last day already.

Sparkle of Wings

A flight of gulls

glide the rooftops

coasting towards the sea.

The train chugs deeper

into the city,

sparkles of ocean

ripple behind me,

purple mountains

fade in the distance.

Dark tunnels of Summer’s end

emerge to elderberry Autumn.

Auburn fields fly by

and I am surrounded by strangers,

knees touching knees,

my feet poised tippy-toes

ready to take flight

like the wings of birds.

I want to feel cool water

splash between my toes,

to return to the sea,

to the shine of Greystones,

away from the drab grey concrete

of the city.

Lakeside Dreams (published by Riposte 2013) and later by Street line Critics, Limerick - written on the street (fun exercise)

Lakeside Dreams

Dusk by the lakeside,

waters gently lap the shore.

The breeze weaves through tall reeds

to dance amid soft mountain shadows.  

A cold moon rises

behind a copse of Oak,

rolling smoky skies.

In the hush of midnight

bare branches reach to the stars,

gathering the falling darkness

into a night of dreams.

http://streetlinecritics.net/places/westfield-park/

Lakeside dreams written on the street in Limerick

haiga (dappled green)

Published in A New Ulster September 2013

cool woodlands
of summer --
dappled green

haiku and haiga (summer 2013)

embroidered hedgerows --
the yellow scent
of summer

published in A Hundred Gourds June 2012


Haiga made of embroidered hedgerows below