5th Avenue Haiku



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Haiku inspired by two old ladies strolling along Fifth Avenue ,New York City, incorporating a commentary on our times and a measured response to the politics of President Trump


“Wouldn’t you think they

would take his Twitter away?”

“I know!  It’s simple.”



For those who love books, part one



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At the Library, New Ross

From my window desk, perched

high above the grey slated gables

I pause for thought, seeing spires

rising above the town, my view

tumbles towards two great rivers,

joined now as one, gliding gently



I came to write peacefully,

to avoid distractions,

the well-known, oft cursed,

enemy of poets and writers.


Yet how can I ignore young birches

as Autumn colours grace their leaves

while they cradle in their golden grove

an amphitheater crying out for a voice

to proclaim aloud sheer joy that I live

near such a scribbler’s sanctuary?


The trees tremble as a soft breeze

flutters leaves, then wafts me back to

work where the very blood of words,

fresh ink, flows.



 Ó   Kevin Connelly 2018

5 shorter poems


At least one thing

At least one thing I’ll remember,

he smiled happily under the bedclothes.

Bare arms lay suggestive on her pillow,

brown eyes flashing in the dim light.

At least that I’ll think of,

when I remember how I left,

remember how I was told to leave.


Sleeping on a park bench promises things

Will change for the better at dawn

Because the sun clears dew and the lark sings

Above the town’s red chimney studded lawn

While the fawn brown worm and silent snail

Creeping slowly from grass, leave a sign

Where the spotted thrush, with beak like nail,

Pierced shell and turned worm to wine.

Perhaps all this shows that God still lives,

Still cares for all. Rising early I see

A flower reflecting with droplet sieves,

Changing into mosaic sun through a tree

And I am stunned by amazing art

In small things playing such a tiny part.

Ships in the night

All right, I was happy then,

just being with you.

Even if every time


opened my mouth


thought I was after


you weren’t prepared

to give,

whatever that was.

Notice that…

We’re inclined to wonder,

seeing others care lined faces,

just exactly what it is they’ve seen.

In a lecture theatre I met

one who had surely seen and conversed

with the ghost of Hamlet’s father,

long since deceased.

published by “Boyne Berries” Spring 2013


quenched his

thirst for knowledge


seeking it

drowned him


when he died


he smiled

and part of me

died with that


A wonderful evening at the Old Forge on The New Line Road, County Wexford. People gather and share music, tales, poetry, tea, coffee and sandwiches. I hope to post some video from this shortly so keep an eye out. Also, St Brigid’s Day, 1st February, is nigh. That is the first day of Spring by Irish reckoning and is the date of the Ancient Celtic Festival of Imbolc. I will have special work posted for that day. Looking forward to a good years blogging in 2018.