If I were a tune
I'd dance with me and
Lift my feet up star lit stairs
To level ground in far out space.

If I were a rune
I'd read with me and
Lift my spirit up moon kit floors
To love and care with grace.

I am in an eating mood today.
A wag would say 'sure what's new?'
But I know the difference.
It's a matter of control and
Today I have no control.

I'm in the grip of it today.
An optimist would say 'think yourself lucky.'
Because it's not drink or drugs.
It can often feel as hopeless and
Today is a hopeless day.

I worry about my weight today.
A cynic would say 'just stop eating.'
Sure all it takes is willpower.
But willpower is not for the weak and
I feel weak today.

I will try to rise above it today.
A pessimist would say 'can't be done'.
But I can't listen to myself anymore.
I need to stand up taller and
Believe tomorrow is not today.

My gut tells me secrets and
Guides me to answers.
It screams nausea like a
Air raid siren during war time.

My gut speaks to me and
Implores me to listen.
It never chides me when
I ignore its clarion call.

My gut is never wrong and
Sets me timely reminders.
It stores experience like a
Well thumbed user manual.

My gut is instinctive and
It helps me understand others.
Their motives and intentions;
Their weaknesses and strengths.

Mr McParland;
our Primary 4 teacher lived in Newry,
Northern Ireland.
Not a City in those days,
but a dangerous border town.
He had wiry hair like a blonde Afro.

Pat Jennings;
world class goalkeeper for his country,
was also born in Newry.
Our man claimed to know him,
and went to school with the green giant.
We believed without reproach.

Yours truly;
age 6 & 7, in the years of the Hunger Strikes,
born in Belfast.
I was enthralled because Pat was of another
world to kids reared in our divided times.
A symbol of hope on an island of doubt.