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…


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…

Haiku for You

Haiku for You

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