Beaufort Scale 8

Beaufort Scale 8

Who knows what gales

Around the headland blow

When all seems calm

Skies are clear

Fair weather set to hold

Breathe in that still air

Cherish the warm

Breeze which blows

Gently across your face

Savour each scented

Wild flower

You pass by

After all

Who knows what gales

Around the headland blow

Published as part of Kilkenny Library Poets on Board Scheme



While attempting


 at my desk one day,

fighting off the usual

bears, wolves

and other dangerous beasts

of the internet

between the Muse and Me;

from the teeth of Twitter,

a ferociously distracting


there leapt out

Billy Collins, Poet

talking of Poetry.

Losing myself

in his


flow of words

I ended

Poetically satisfied,


Poetically wishing

I had not been


by dingoes of distraction

and had instead




Published as part of Kilkenny Library Poets on Board Scheme

Flash Fiction One

Click on the icon.

“Click on the icon.”

“Icon!  What icon?  There’s too many!”

“There!  Look!  I only showed you yesterday!”

“That was different.”

“Different?  What do you mean different?”

“That was yesterday, Anyway I have it now, look, see!”  With quiet pride in her voice she continued, “now we’re set.”  Then she groaned softly, “Oh dear, I’ve forgotten what I do next.”

This time her daughter intervened, having silenced her brother with a withering glance and a barely murmured, “shush!”

If their mother noticed she gave no sign.  Instead she peered intently at the spot on the screen her daughter indicated, reading aloud, “address book.”  She double clicked and leaned back, satisfied, when a list of names, locations, numbers, e-mails magically appeared.  As her son went to move the mouse she gently slapped his hand away saying, “no Tom, let me do it, you showed me yesterday, I have to learn.”

He shrugged his shoulders and like his sister watched their mother hesitantly scroll down through the list.  Their patience over a few days home tutoring was well rewarded when she cried out in almost girlish excitement, “look, look there they are!  That’s them, look!”  Her daughter Mary gently pulled her hands down from her mouth, drawing them back to the keyboard.

“No good there, Mam, come on!  What next?”

She frowned in intense concentration, “Let me see, I’ll double click anyway.”

They didn’t need the glow from the screen to see the light in her eyes when Jim in Australia and Kate in Alberta came on the screen.  The three way family chat filled the house with noise, with laughter

None of the children, home or abroad, heard her crying on the phone that night to her friend of many years, “this Skype thing makes it easier.”


Published as part of Kilkenny Library Poets on Board scheme

%d bloggers like this: