'Darcy and O'Mara' is a novel by Arthur Cronin.
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Thursday, May 27, 2010


Valerie Adores the Rain

Valerie adores the rain.
  She won't pull up her hood.
She's catalogued the hurricanes
  Her hair style has withstood.

Her head expands when it gets wet.
  Her brain begins to flower.
She feels the unrelenting rain
  Increasing her brain power.

And she'll discover startling facts
  That light up in her mind.
Facts about the lives of plants
  Are things she loves to find.

She'll marvel at the knowledge that
  She never knew she knew,
Like how to instigate a flawed
  Exhilarating coup.

Thursday, May 20, 2010


Hilda's Garden

Her overgrown garden would fight her.
The grass concealed creatures who'd bite her.
An old timber wagon
Was home to a dragon,
But he was her cigarette lighter.

This is Hilda running a marathon
to raise money for mice.

Thursday, May 13, 2010


The Climate in my Head

I've boundless praise for the inventor
Of those frosty days in winter.
I miss them now that summer's here
To leave its blemish on this year.

Memories of snow will spark
A pleasant fire to quench the dark
In long and dreary days of June,
The interlude in life's cartoon.

When leaking clouds that need a plumber
Start to dominate our summer
I'll be glad I don't need heat
While stressed-out hordes head off for Crete

To laze beneath incessant sun
And bake until they're overdone,
And spend their nights believing that
They've found their perfect habitat.

I'll steer away from stress and strain.
All I'll need to keep me sane
Are thoughts of winter's many charms
And drawing monsters on my arms.

Thursday, May 06, 2010


Dinnertime at Darren's House

When Darren's fridge is short of food
  He won't go to the shops.
He won't sweep floors for stray popcorn
  Or missing lollipops.

He won't eat out in restaurants
  Like senseless, spendthrift fools.
He'll simply go down to the shed
  Containing all his tools.

He'll make his food from bits of planks
  With nuts and bolts and nails.
Fools can pay a fortune for
  Their meal of frogs and snails.

He's satisfied with plywood pies
  And eggs of oak or pine.
He'll use their yolks for cakes he makes
  That smell of turpentine.

Some desserts have wires and gears
  And some make ticking sounds.
On Christmas Day he cooked the hare
  Who raced and fooled greyhounds.

He made a cake that tasted bland.
  He only ate one slice.
He found that he could use it as
  A pest-control device.

Very Slight Stories

Henry Seaward-Shannon

The East Cork Patents Office

The Tree and the Horse


Words are my favourite noises

Previous Poems

Poems from 2004
Poems from 2005



Gizmo's (Non)sense

Pretty Cunning

The Dossing Times


Cruiskeen Eile
Kevin Myers' blog (sorry, Colonel Kevin Myers).

The Chancer

Sinead Gleeson



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A Walk in the Rain

 | poetry from Ireland

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