Friday, 23 April 2010

COOLE PARK -revisited

Please excuse me for returning so soon to Coole Park. My reason for doing so is that I want to share my recent poem with you before the trail went entirely cold.



Coole Park in March Twenty Ten


Coole Park in March Twenty Ten

Blackbird song under sun

echoes in sparse gentle rain

Through trees a breeze whispers

rattles twigs on bare branches


That wait expectantly to birth

bud leaf as hesitant Spring lingers

Above gravelled paths trodden

through woodland to lake or garden

Hidden old voices traverse converse


Tracks to collide with modern mind

to hear the intonation, an energy

A creative literary expression

borne in tranquil ancient air

Old inspiration so very rare


To kindle bright fires in the mind.

as a line of white ferries queue

On lakeside to carry earth spirits

from shore to shore across time

Past beyond AE or Yeats or Shaw


Where Tuatha and their Gods dance

forever, still alive noble proud race

On glowing illumined waters an entrance

extends past finger tips pens paint a grace

That human kind interprets tenderly.


As fragile as glass, as bright as bronze

a glimpse of fianna, faery and sidhe

Rise in wood smoke before our eyes

cry tears bereft of a child's vision, yet

We listen and yearn again to see.


©MRL 01-04 -2010



4 comments:

  1. This is a fine poem Mel, finely put together. Thank you for the beauty of your visions and reminiscences.

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  2. Nice poem, Mel. I thought of you yesterday, as I bought a book on the holy springs and wells of my area - Bath, Bristol and Gloucestershire. It mentions 'The Source' - the society which seeks to protect them all.

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  3. Thank you liZZie ! I actually started the poem in Coole Park where I wrote the first verse and then like a wine it matures gradually.

    Morgainne you are so kind.

    You too Tom thanks for your comment and strangely I was thinking of you yesterday, as you will find out when I post the new blog up later today :)

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