Book Of Kells

After queuing we entered the long room

Filled floor to ceiling, wall to wall

With books

I felt all the books of the world were housed here

What journeys, what learning lay between those pages

I wondered about the thoughts of those monks

Who created The Book of Kells

The hands that created such beauty.


One am

After an hours sleep

Woken by what?

Fear grips me

Am I awake

Cream coloured walls tinged with red

The clock radio is blank

Is there a power cut?

I want to turn to check the clock

Fear holds me in its grip

Am I awake

I seek comfort

There is none

Fear leaves me

I am awake.

I used To Have a Handle On Life, Now Its Broken

Yes broken

Just like a favourite mug

Does anyone ever count how many broken things there are in their life




Things needing repair in the home

Its endless like a river

Except you can sit and enjoy a river

During Summer

Cool off in its waters when the sun gets

Too hot

I used to have a handle on life, now its broken

And cannot be repaired

Can our broken world be repaired

Who knows

Personally I cling tightly onto hope.


Is the field I played in

Still there

Is my childhood home filled with

Dark corners and shadows

Still standing

I tell my visitors to this nursing home

How unhappy I am

No one can help me.

He Who Is Brave Is Free

What about she

Yes the younger version of me was that she

I boldly went et cetera

Life decided to knock down my bravado

It kicked and kicked

What is left now is a broken shell

No one picks up

A shell that once had a pink glow

He who is brave is free

Will I regain that freedom

Old age is knocking on the door

The tide is coming in.