Una hora menos

  Train to Sligo Coming up to Christmas As regular as clockwork  The sisters travelled on the train From Connolly to McDermott Or as advertised MacDiarmada As Iaranrod Eireann faithfully  Catered to the one percent Who spoke Gaelic fluently.  Lily and Maureen armed with presents For their siblings up in Castle Street.  We rendezvoused in Churchtown When stars were in the skies Before the milkman called Before the postman too.  A welcome breakfast in the North Star Before heading for the platform Up ho into the carriage Lots of chat for them to manage.  Then after work I’d pick mum up While Norman did the same Back to Landscape for a tea A short debrief then off I went.  These ladies of the second decade Of the twentieth century Never strayed from their birth place Or their kindred back home.  All the photos monochrome  All the memories dear  Of the sisters who always travelled When Advent turned the corner. 

  One man’s war One man’s war holds in store Death and exile, fear and horror.  How did we let him get this far Why not stopped long time before? We only heard the words the Lord said About the doves and being gentle Drinking tea in China cups  Politely with the enemy.  He mentioned serpents and being cunning But those lines we found were missing  We hadn’t learned the lessons of the millions Who perished in Auschwitz and Birkenau.  Who lived in ghettos til transported  On trains like sheep to the station  They meekly walked into gas chambers Were shown no mercy for their patience.   To work for peace is not so simple  We simply cannot suffer murder In the hope that someone else Will come to rescue and to save us.  Peace will come when the bully’s beaten With his hands behind his back All the prayers and all the candles Are simply not good enough.  And when it’s over the message clearer To athletes and the Bolshoi Ballet T...

  Surprises I surprised my darling with a flower And she thought it lovely And thought it better than Expensive presents for her birthday.  I like Jesus because he too Did the unexpected  He healed the poor and blind He dined with the rejected.  Mixing with the wrong sort Getting up the noses  Of the genteel people  Who lived in better houses.  Get rid of him - they did But only three days later He surprised his friends and critics  By rising from the chamber.  We cannot plan our happiness That comes when we’re not looking It comes as a surprise  It comes when we’re not asking. 

  May in Dun Leary Minding my own business, heading for a haircut Locking up my bike when a lovely voice behind Captures me and    passers by stand and listen This superb summer day in the Centre of Dun Leary.  Turning back I find some change  And leave it on her jacket While she moves seamlessly From Sinatra to Flamenco.  It gives me pleasure to see who gives And who passes as she sings her repertoire Young and old, yes, mostly old Who slowly bend and toss a coin.  Old ladies with umbrellas on a sunny day Just in case the forecast proves false again Give their widows mite while their silver hair Shines in the bright noonday sun of May.  This piece of heaven arrives without a warming Like nearly all the best things - a surprise A voice that’s rich enraptures the builder’s crew Sitting in the sun, captures me and you.  She sings in English and in Spanish  And while we ponder which magic part of Spain She sings an Argentinian air for compa...

  You have no idea You have no idea what it is to give your young life To the service of the Lord in your teenage years  When friends are busy tracing steps  Across a college or an office floor.  You’ve never asked and indeed why would you? What it’s like to turn your back on life When life has just begun and you have come  To harvest the early fruits that freedom brings.  Sunday afternoons not spent at football matches But in tidy rooms where disinfectant Mingles with the scent of weekend incense And a stilly Sunday silence permeates.  You haven’t faced the final questions Time and again from earnest preachers Who speak of hell that will consume us If we fail to clear our conscience.  Lives of serenity steeped in anxiety Weeks of silence but the voices echo In the nights, lonely and abandoned  When our lives escape our grasp.  Lives lived against the cliff of time When eternity starts each sentence When we hope that God or heaven  ...