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