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 Jun 2023 Crow
Elizabeth Kelly
Stay the blinds.
The closeness of the flat and gray
Press ever forward,
Yes,
Forward and down,
the tidal wave of day
A promise delivered,
the threat of suggestion
An unbarring of the way.

Stay the blinds.
Speak to the shadows
Unhurried in their fleeting,
lingering upon the fragile lace
sighs and forget-me-nots
Caught in the corner just there,
Unmolested in the graze of a wallpaper seam,
Beneath the scattered fluff
Of yesterday’s brushed away minutes.

Stay the blinds,
If only for another moment,
Before the roaring morning
with its advancing demands
Breaks the surface of this dark, pooled reverie.
 Jun 2023 Crow
Donall Dempsey
THE MYSTERY

Did you ever wake up
(oh when you were very small)  
in the dark black pitch of night
and find yourself

in your very own room
(in your very own bed)  
although you had falled asleep
(in another room)  

or the long journey home from the sea
side.
Did you ever wake up
(oh when you were very small)  
and scared of shadows

and rubbed the broke sleep from your eyes
and wonder how (it came about)  
you were ok and everything was
...alright?

And peering from your patchwork quilt
you heard your Dad asleep ('Hee Haw! ')  
and heard your Mummy's gentle breathing.
And thought how Daddy was like the sea at her side
and she was the shore dreaming of seaweed and shells.

And still you didn't know how you had falled asleep in Aunt Mary's
and found yourself washed up on your own little island.
And the Mystery made you suspiciously sleepy
and you drifted back to how you wer

Superman and all
your other favourite comic book heroes!
Did you ever wake up(and find out)  
how.. when...
the day's play had drugged you asleep
Daddy came and lifted you with his strong hands
(Yes...Superman dreams and all!)  

and brought you home to your own room
sailing ship shape bed
and Mammy said:
'Shhhhh....don't wake him! '
And Auntie Mary said:
'Ahhhhh...the poor little cratur'! '

Did you ever wake up
(Oh when you were very small)  
and catch
the Mystery
...out!
 Jun 2023 Crow
CJ Sutherland
I  can smell the musty, generations passed
An odd lingering scent that last
A Mixture of cedar wood and moth *****
Bring forth a flood of memories.
I great their calls
Happiness Fills my head and nose
A flower for Grandma,
A hand picked garden Rose.
It’s much more than just their clothes
The scent transport me to Yesterdays
A maze of peace, only A heart knows

In the visiting room they’re walkers and wheelchair all clutter
The set up, make it hard, to get to them
Under their breath, they mutter
We show our love with hugs and kisses
Whispering in there ears secret wishes

A quiet sadness fills the air
looking into their blank stares.
Was this going to be,
another awkward silence?
Only in time we shall see
Perhaps A frustrating outburst of violence
Are they in there?
We miss them, and we care
Or have they gone?
We wonder for how long,
off to some place in their mind.
Where did they go?
what will they find?
Hopefully fading back
Sometimes Music and stories,
help them find what they lack.

Children, young and old
gather for; a yarn, a tail, a story told.
Loving memories My grandma knew,
from a time of long ago.

Her soft voice was gentle and kind
a warm comfortable chair,
One can always find.
Settling down till the story fills my head and the visions spins like cobwebs
I fall asleep in my makeshift bed.

The story always starts the same.
Somebody asks her
“what is it like being so old,?(100)
Knowing most of your life is behind you” ?

With A Wink and A Smile, and
A twinkle in her eyes she begin.
As we listen to the adventures
of a lifetime gone by.
when we laughed , and cried
Babies born and
loved ones Died

“I have always been the same age
my entire life” She says

As A Girl, A Women,A Mother , A Wife
and now A Grandma.A Great Grandma
My fathers darling little girl
With unruly wild hair that curled
Through all my adventures
the Child (age 10)  inside of me,
provided joy and optimism
I could see.
I took pleasures in
the simple things
Of what my life would bring

There was a time;
I got caught up in the worldly ways.
Collecting silly Stuff. I took No guff!
Whoever has the most toys wins.!
I lived in the world of many sins.
Time passed with age, just another phrase
I realize; I lived in a bubble, I was blind.
Family the bonds that bind
Truth acquired along the way.
Kindness towards a stranger
Finding the right thing to say.
Looking for the best
in the worst situation each day..
Realizing every person is in your life weather; a moment, a brief time, or season  Only God knows, there is a reason.

That young girl is why;
I giggle for no reason at all,
I may smile at a private thought
and you look at me as if I’m crazy.
Perhaps I’m thinking of
A beautiful yellow daisy
and my favorite dress age 10
when in our mind children pretend.
where  I didn’t have a care in the world.
I could spin, give it a whirl, and a twirl dream adventures; stories or a song
While doing  chores all day long..
My father told me I could be
anything, I only had to believe
If my pictures is true,
I will not be deceive

I have tried on many hats
Somethings I’ve done I’m not proud of.
But other adventures have filled my heart with a richness that brings me gratitude.
With this comes a winning attitude.

I gained a peace I’ve never know.
So, when you come to visit me
don’t feel sad, don’t groan,
that I’m in a place such as this.

Know You we’re truly missed.
I’m waiting to see YOU,
To give you a hug and kiss
to fill your heart  with
a life once lived in a richness
that you will never know.
My spirit is a glow

I’m sorry we did not
leave you a better place.
But I can tell you of that
Place you’ll  miss
full of God’s loving grace
Do I gotta get it baby there is a child in each of us. Many people forget about that. Whatever you’re doing there’s the Adulting you and the child in you. It’s hard to see parents, declining and age. We want to remember them when they were strong and beautiful. But they still have worse.
 Jun 2023 Crow
Myrrdin
Linger
 Jun 2023 Crow
Myrrdin
You sounded just like someone
I've spent the last 5 years burying
I wondered how I could have
Risen the dead yet again
My very posture a seance
Welcoming the past
Like the welcome mat
The ghosts pass over
On their way in
I never opened the door
I swear
I guess I just left it unlocked
I begged you to leave me alone
But the exorcist said
It's so impolite to ask the ghost to leave
If you're the reason their dead in the first place.
 Jun 2023 Crow
Caroline Shank
We will have a moment to
shape voice and touch
around the space
in which our kisses find us,

so you turn to me when
reaching,

warm in two AM sheets
holding our breathing
tight in the night's sky.

We belong to the heat,
to the sounds
that run swift and
sure as the constellations
to our skillful embrace

and love.

perhaps?

Caroline Shank
6.16.2023
 Jun 2023 Crow
Donall Dempsey
CRÚISCÍN...CÍSTÍN BAISE
(LITTLE JUG...LITTLE PALM CAKE)    

Auntie Mary’s
currant cake & blackberry jam

“Mmmmmmmm”

The jewels in the crown
of our forever summer

holiday

precious Corkonian objects
brought back to the lowly lowlands of the Curragh.

All the blackberries
that ever were

bursting with sunshine
& childhood

Jumping into
the jar for her
as if it were
an honour.

They & I
transformed by her

love
& lovely laughter

cake baked
with smiles & chuckles

winks & singings.

Me on her knee...tiny
being kissed to bits

Me being devoured
by an enormous hug

smothered in bosoms
many many yellow flowers on her purple pinny.

Her blowing my curls
out of the way

so that her smile
could kiss me

more &
more...er!

Me unable to
comprehend anything

of her
Cork accent.

Me saying “Yes..? ”  &  “No..? ”
in all the wrong hilarious places

(to my great embarrassment
& her great amusement)    

her breath
tickling my cheek

telling me
she loved me
...loved me...

& that I looked
so good

she could
“...ate me! ”

*

(
Homely little terms! A little jug of milk and a little cake in the palm of your hand.)    

A cístín baise is a little cake made on the side of the griddle especially for the child...eh...“helping” with the baking.

This was written for my Aunt Mary who passed away recently leaving me with nothing but the memory of her love...her all abiding love...that not even her death can diminish. I simply adored her.

The Cork accent is like fast fluent French cross pollinated with sing- song Welsh...almost impossible to understand unless you are immersed in it for a couple of months! But of course she would also play with me and make up a whole lot of what they call in Cork... “glig glag”...silly talk.

She was so easy to love.

A child’s delight!
 Jun 2023 Crow
Donall Dempsey
"BORNE BACK CEASELESSLY INTO THE PAST"

Here
(in the here and now)

the Present
nails down

the reality of everything
it sees.

It fixes this sun
to that sky.

A bird breaks
free from the trees.

The lake lapping
at her sandalled feet.

Her watch tells her
it is five past three.

Her sunburnt face.
Its constellation of freckles.

She can not see
this time

ever ending. . .

But it does.
It did.

Now fifty years
have come and gone.

Things float away
into the past.

The sky has been
replaced

by a sky
newer than the one she'd known.

The bird has flown away.
The trees cut down.
The lake no longer knowing her.

She does not have time
tied to her wrist.

She dislikes trapping the world
in tick tocks.

Her face pale now.

Forgetting who
she had been.

She looks at herself
in black and white.

A stranger
stares back.
Mastmaula - The happy go lucky little turtle

On the beaches of Konkan
Lived a few families of turtles
For ages it has been their home .

Amongst them lived Mastmaula a young and adventurous turtle
To explore the surroundings he loved, popular and lovable , a friend to all .
Many a times he would stray away and had to be fetched by the elders in the group .

He loved visiting  the homes of the fishermen who lived by the sea.
Particularly fond of cabbage fed by the fisherwomen .

Amusingly he was also fond of music .
And loved to dance

The fishermen went fishing by the day
And would celebrate  the catch and their life by evenings .
Music played  and seafood savoured in almost every home.

Mastmaula was sure to visit, the fisherman 's house when there used to be a party.
One of the evenings , there was one going on in one of the houses , music was loud with party lights on.
And ,the food yes cabbage in colours, purple and green ,
Mastmaula knew would sure be part of the menu.

The fisherman's family had guests coming from afar
The occasion , an engagement ceremony .
As the music went on , Mastmaula went turtle and began to spin.
And sure he did have a few amazing moves , which caught the guests' eyes
And one of them ,fancied  carrying Mastmaula to their home.
The host opposed but the guest's  7 year old daughter Mili loved Mastmaula and wanted him to be part of her family . The host reluctantly obliged.

Soon , it was dark and a bale of turtles were out to fetch back Mastmaula home. They knew where to  find him.
Reaching the party venue and not finding him there they panicked and soon swelled in numbers.

The fishermen family knew it was time to call their guest ,who had taken away  Mastmaula .
The guest hurriedly came back with Mastmaula in a little basket and placed him down .
Mastmaula was overjoyed to reunite with his family and promised them all that he would never stray away and be careful of his visits alone to the fishermens homes.
Have always told self invented bed time stories to my boys .
My older son , Amitabh has been fond of 'The Hare and the Tortoise' since he was a toddler , have told him many , cause he always to listen to a new version .
Last night came up with this story of a young turtle .
I haven't ever written any story so far . This is the first that I have documented and so thought of sharing here on HP.

My mother tongue /Native language is Hindi .
Narrated the boys this story in Hindi .

MastMaula means -Happy go Lucky

Dedicated to both my sons , Amitabh and Anshul  :)
Thank you all for reading
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