Jul. 25, 2022
If she still walked on planet Earth
would she still flibertigibbet along
and would she be out there in middle age
with banners and flags and arguments
and would her children be like whirlwinds
as she was flying about the place
all bright and shouty and moody
bringing our current brood out
and leading them into all kinds
of divillment and wreaking havoc
and who would have sired them
that big Latin-European boy maybe
and to where in the world would
we have chased to be with them
early morning half sleep memory
whips up a whirlwind of panic
as if it were just yesterday
we first learned of her going
Peter Clarke
ClÃodhna
28.07.2022 12:56
Gorgeous Peter. When I read this it is truly like yesterday. Tears flowing here in Canada. The artwork is amazing.
Phil
26.07.2022 08:52
Lovely evocative piece Peter complete with a 'reality punch'.
Anne
25.07.2022 16:57
What a wonderful evocation of times past and present and the might have been. Truely you have captured the spirit of Aoife😀
Latest comments
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
Hi Peter,
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
Hugs,
John.x
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024