On one of these days
when it is not the wind
that is whispering softly my name
Short Stories
Thoughts
We’re endebted to our friend Irene Saunders who posted this poem on Guestbook. Just thought it deserved upgrading to Frontpage!
Thoughts go home unbidden
When we’re somewhere far away ………
Prison Visit
I opened the letter with some anticipation. I was 16 years of age and rarely got anything in the post except the occasional birthday card. I recognised the postmark, as it was the same as other letters that arrived regularly for my parents.
Punk with Wellies
It was August 1977. We were huddled around a tape recorder listening to the Sex Pistols ….
Banjo on Popacatepetyl
Hello there Banjo! And what’s the craic?
I hope they’ve all made you welcome back?
Here comes the Sun
I ignored my wife’s advice and walked barefoot along the black volcanic sand. I reacted to her shouted warnings with a feeble rendition of the Highland fling, dancing towards breaking waves.
Turkey Sandwiches
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t was Christmas morning and the phones in the various homes belonging to the Martin family had been in overdrive since breakfast time. The women of the family …
Lassara poem
Dark Narrow Water your secrets you hold
Though the days are long gone since your knights were so bold
Yet your name’s still remembered when tales they are told
Of you and the lovely Lassara.
Jazzer
The story of the nicknames reminds me of another one concerning a gentleman whose nickname was Jazzer. He drank with the lads from Newry Celtic ….