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
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.
a wall of 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