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  Jun 2016 Jeff Stier
Seán Mac Falls
( Sonnet )*

We walked along the grainy ocean,
Our way, smooth as a path to nowhere
And through a dance of reeds your hair,
Steeped with marshes of wings and air,
Red, mellow as fire from the fallen sun,
Your flowered dress was the first spring
Ever germinating and blue crystal waters
Sprung, of coastal pools, Knockanare wells
And I was flung, as a windy clutch of seeds
Dreaming, your voice, bloomy, song wafted,
Rousing, as remembrance in fragrances —
And the moony, blinking stars soon peopled
Our woe-less eyes, full of sleep and vision
And all the stones held us deep as sarsen.
Knockanare Well is a holy well in County Cork, Ireland.  It is situated on the left bank of the River Awbeg, about a half-mile east of Buttevant and southeast of the Ballyhoura Mountains. A Sheela na Gig once stood next to the well, indicative of its importance as a mystical site for many centuries. The water from this well remains crystal-clear and sweet.

Greystones (Irish: Na Clocha Liatha) is a coastal town in County Wicklow, Ireland. It lies on Ireland's east coast, 8 km (5.0 mi) south of Bray and 27 km (17 mi) south of Dublin, with a population of about 15,000. The town is bordered by the Irish Sea to the east, Bray Head to the north and the Wicklow Mountains to the west.

The word "sarsen" is a shortening of "Saracen stone", with "Saracen" being used as a synonym for "pagan".  Thus "sarsen" would mean "pagan stone", "stone of the pagans."
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  Jun 2016 Jeff Stier
phil roberts
She was our first grandchild
And naturally
We loved her dearly
And I adored her
As only grand-dads can
And she latched onto me

She used to come to us every Tuesday
At a time when kids are most interesting
She was fully conversational
(Didn't we all know it)
Her personality was emerging
And she was still young enough
To have her originality and imagination
My little gold mine of joy

And this is how it would go

"Grand-dad, you be the shop keeper
And I'll bring my dollies in for clothes."
So she would lay out her doll's outfits
And bring her dolls forward to buy clothes
She would haggle over the price (and win)
And pay me in cardboard coins

"Let's watch a video, Grand-dad!
Let's watch Barny!" (Again)
I hate that ****** purple dinosaur
And Katie thinks he's wonderful
That smarmy voice of his
"I love you and you love me,"
I bleeding don't you know
I wouldn't let him within a hundred miles
Of any kids of mine.

In the course of the day
I would be called upon
To play multiple parts in
Everything from The Three Bears
To Little Red Riding Hood
In which I memorably became
Big Bad Wolf and Grandma
And presumably ate myself

But the highlight of the day
Was the last thing before she went home
The weekly show
"Introduce me, Grand-dad!"
In my best showman's voice
"Ladies and gentlemen...!"
To my wife and dog
"...The moment you've been waiting for.
Fresh from her recent tour
Of our back garden.....
Miss Katie......."
"Katie Spice, Grand-dad."
"Miss Katie SPICE!"

Into some popular ditty of the day
Issuing from her at full volume
Then she would stop mid-line
While she did a little dance step
All greeted by thunderous applause
In her head it was Carnegie Hall
Rather than my wife, my dog and me
So, a happy end to a happy day
Then Katie went home
And I slipped into an exhausted coma

                                           By Phil Roberts
Jeff Stier Jun 2016
The bones of this earth
grind down our fates
our hopes
our dreams
our lives

And a feathered serpent rules
over these climes
this western hemisphere
these Americas
have you heard?

Something elemental shapes this
world
and tempers our lives.
Unknown to most.

The old ones
the people who lived here before
knew him

Quetzalcoatl
Kukulkan
God of learning
Wearer of the wind jewel
the one who whispers life
and death
through his lips.
And you must drink it.
Alive or dead.

The morning star is his sign.
The evening star
his farewell.

He carries the sun
as a shield
and your fate
your fortune
as a good luck charm.

Listen and look.
You will see
You will hear it.

Whispers like water
from the heart
the skin
the bones of this sweet earth.

Listen.
You will hear it.
  Jun 2016 Jeff Stier
K Balachandran
A randy beetle,
circles a closing lotus;
nightly paramour.
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