Wednesday, June 15, 2016

ON THE OTHER HAND







ON THE OTHER HAND

My brain cannot fathom the games, that are played;
The struggle for power; more wealth....... so much greed,
Sod the child that is hungry, or the ones who are slain;
Or the old, who built their all, on rocks and one seed.....
In a world, that is out of tune.

My arms cannot reach across the bottomless lake
To touch, not pluck the stinging pink of a solitary bloom
Yet even through green blades of steel, I catch a glimpse of her paint;
I see a white-toothed smile, as young greedy fingers tear across Chopin's loom,....
On a piano, that is out of tune.


Maureen Walsh  - June 2016









Ciao for Now


Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Umbrellas


Image result for umbrellas


Umbrellas

A dog's bark distracts from bills,
And decisions to be made.
For a moment bark becomes Sibelius
And tears flow freely....freely now 
For places I can no longer go home to.
The bottle replaced the stave
For twenty years, ignoring his muse,
He also ignored the call of the wolf.
Raining one day; with umbrella; his shield;
The thirsting; the endless searching for knowing;
Was eased by whispering forests and singing streams.
That night by the candle, pipe and pen were alight;
Quavers set free; First of Seven was born.


Maureen Walsh - Jan 2016


Dedicated to Jean Sibelius (1865-1957)





Happy New Year to all my friends and family! Music touches places within me like no other art form and has provided much solace throughout my life. Please listen to this 4th movement of Sibelius' 1st Symphony. He didn't compose anything for twenty years, because of his battle with alcoholism. Sit back, close your eyes and be prepared for an emotional journey like no other!


Ciao for now!
.


Friday, June 26, 2015

MISTAKEN IDENTITY







MISTAKEN IDENTITY

The hand, that reaches out to a shoulder;
A shoulder, sparse of flesh and muscle now.
A shoulder, that pulled a plough once;
A shoulder, that nestled a spewing babe.
A shoulder, that cradled a new born lamb;
A shoulder, that bronzed with every turn of hay.
A shoulder, that held up a cart to fix a wheel.
A shoulder, soaked by family's tears;.
A shoulder, covered now in papery brown.
The hand, that reaches out....
Let it see the MAN.









Maureen Walsh  -  June 2015



Ciao for now!

Wednesday, June 24, 2015

SO GOOD TO SEE YOU





SO GOOD TO SEE YOU

So good to see you tonight....in one piece
I take no notice of the vermin tag
Silver stripes turning for once at the verge
To head for the anonymity of a hedgerow
Not hushed into death
By squashing rush of wheels
No crows feasting on a soggy door mat.



.


Maureen Walsh - June 2015



Ciao for now!

Wednesday, May 13, 2015

NUMBED IN THE MONTH OF MAY







NUMBED IN THE MONTH OF MAY

Blinded by grief for wasted time
Deafened by noise of empty words
Riddled by pangs of useless regret
Deadened by deeds of impure heart....AND

Thousands are killed for their creed by greed
Nature at its fiercest slaughters smiles in Nepal
Old lady is locked in a box she calls home
A man, unemployed; isn't seen; ends it all....SO I'M SORRY

I cannot see the glory of this Summer
Nor did I of, the Spring just past
I didn't feel the soil grow warm
Or feel the thrill of a curlew's call 
Nor sing in the lane, lined with lime-green beech 
Let not the scents of the hawthorn pass by me
Without my regard or respect
For then I would sense that all was lost;
That swallows would forget to return in May

Maureen Walsh - May 2015








Ciao for now!

Monday, April 20, 2015


Image result for old shepherd with flock



THE FINAL WHISTLE


Ruddy face chastened by Northerly wind;
Wind that spurs army of woolly warriors to be led,
Led not pushed with gentle calm upwards;
Upwards towards the grassy level before the lake.
Lake where the lady lures men down, deep to love.
Love? The girl from the blue house, bottom of the boreen;
Boreen filled with the smell and white of Hawthorn;
Hawthorn, where he should have kissed Moll's full red lips.
Lips that kissed, then married his best friend Paddy; 
Paddy who left the Glen and farming to become a garda.
Garda uniform and he was handsome with a house as well.
Well for them now, with their two girls, and one boy
Boy, awkward, but won with a smile very same as his mother's. 
'Mother's getting too much these days,' and cap off, he scratches
Scratches a balding head bowed by hard work and despair;
Despair around decisions, and moments never seized.
Seized by a crushing pain in chest, he calls the final whistle.
Whistle, in his pocket pinned between his heart and rock;
Rock where Joe played many an air, and Shep his dog would sleep.
Sleep Joe, your turn now: Shep, your friend will guard your sheep. 



Maureen Walsh - April 2015



Image result for old shepherd


I'M THINKING THE WORLD COULD DO WITH A GOOD SHEPHERD RIGHT NOW.....ONE THAT LEADS RATHER THAN PUSHES!


Ciao for now!

Saturday, April 18, 2015

BABIES, BANKERS AND BANDITS




BABIES, BANKERS AND BANDITS


Babies thriving through bottle or breast.
Bankers survive by destroying youths' nests;
Bandits' causes killing kids with the rest




Maureen Walsh - April 2015

 
 
 
 
Ciao for now!