THE KILKENNY INVOLVEMENT CENTRE AND RECOVERY COLLEGE SOUTH EAST HAVE PRODUCED A WONDERFUL ANTHOLOGY OF POETRY AND PROSE. ‘WHITE TWINE AND OLD SUITCASES’ COMPRISES OF 128 PAGES AND 60 AUTHORS AND IS COMPLEMENTED BY SOME WONDERFUL PHOTOS AND ARTWORK BY TASK CAMERA CLUB. IT IS PRINTED BY MODERN PRINTERS. IT IS DEFINITELY RECOMMENDED READING FOR ALL LOVERS OF POETRY. THE KILKENNY OBSERVER IS HAPPY TO RUN THE POEMS EACH WEEK TO PROMOTE CREATIVE WRITING AND TO HIGHLIGHT THESE WONDERFUL CENTRES. AVAILABLE IN ALL KILKENNY BOOK SHOPS. €10
Salute for a Soldier
And there you lie, one of three,
Headstones together, yet you’re free,
The battle over, fought and won
With your comrades now as one.
In these graves beneath this sod
The wording says ‘known unto God’,
But from this day, you have been found,
Michael we salute you beneath this ground
May the rain fall gently upon you..
John Joe Cullen
Written in memory of Private Michael Burke (RDF), who died in Ploegsteert, Belgium,
and is buried in Trios Arbes Cemetry, France
Blackbirds
Dark and mysterious, I’d really like to know the difference
between a Jackdaw and a Crow.
A Raven and a Rook, and a Blackbird aptly named, in what ways
do they differ? All look mostly the same.
‘Tchack’ sounds like Jack, the sound the Jackdaw calls, a silvery
headed, pale blue-eyed black crow it’s the smallest one of them all.
Blackbird not a crow type, has an orange yellow beak, related to Song Thrush, sings melody sweetly.
Ravens play ‘catch’ while in pairs or alone, drop a stick, swoop to
save it from hitting the ground.
Acrobats soaring high, somersault and fly fast, roll around,
upside-down all a part of the act.
Rooks in their colonies croak hoarsely and loud, their large faces
bare-skinned, their wings high powered.
Crows’ deep black feathers can look like they’re shining, flying
murderers in thousands, a sight mesmerizing.
Blackbirds throughout folklore and legend and magic,
harbingered omens some good and some tragic,
Psycho-pomps as in ‘Morrigan’ ‒ raven escort who guides
deceased souls from this Earth to the near After-life.
Isobel De Barra
I Hope
There will be time
to see you and hear
the wonder of your
poetic voice spin yarns
embrace you with a hug
amidst the odour of
freshly baked bread
buttered and jammed
around your table
where stories create
laughter and joy
and the flames
of the coal fire
sends a warm
glow of welcome
to Kilpatrick
home of creative
words that grow
reams of poetry
Mai Dormer
