IS TUSA...MO THEACH RÚNDA BEAG
(You Are...My Little Secret House)



my house
a hedge
on my uncle's farm




that only existed
in summer
holiday land




In terms of time
it is the year
called 1963




but that is neither
here nor there
for this is the timeless time




of a small boy who
wishes to be
invisible




found when falling
from a tree
into a fairy tale




hedge of many
years standing
thick and tangled with time




door
?
there is no door




one has
to beat
one's way in




the only door is
pain
and determination




endure the sting
of nettle
the scratch of briar




crying is
the only thing
not allowed




burrs clinging
to curls
and geansaí




transforming you
into a wild
creature




dock leaves stand near by
to take the sting
out of things




the hedge
closing
behind you




but once inside
it blossoms out into
a makeshift  palace




that only
a child could
cherish




a hedgehog
keeps
house




the other
occupants
various creepy crawlies




sunlight now
and then
comes to visit




sometimes
the rain
drops in




gossiping in
drips
and drabs




a roof of bird song
and green
sunlight




a wall of pig squeals
and chicken clucks
moos and barkings




I a creature
amongst
other creatures




sharing this
the same
moment





grateful
I am
for their acceptance




oh I must go. . .
a butterfly
needs to talk to me