Pete's Poetry

Sirens of Laughter

Posted by in The Irish Rain

What of the original eleven?
Ten riders lost in the swells of intemperate sea
Only one remains:

I stand
cliff edged.
A boatsman edging close,
to the cleaving line…

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Epitaph of a Wayfarer Poet

Posted by in Poems, The Irish Rain

There remains an antique land of polished green dreams beneath a mist,
thick and clean, where great blue flutes in waves of wind sweep a waltz of Irish rain across a rocky plain, to plunder dreams in greens:

It seems-
There came a lull from seven days of Irish rain
and though my boots still wet from journey’s gain,
this antique land yet plundered my dreams and on and on…

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Haiku for You

Haiku for You

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