Howth Castle and Environs

I thought

Today

I forgot my name

Or

Misplaced it

At least.

But

The more I searched

The more I forgot

Until

I remembered

Something else.

Blank pages scare me

So I rush into poems

Knowing full well

I’ll hate the first stanza

So,

I stopped

Writing

In stanzas

Proper.

I always love the place I’ve left

And hate the place I’m in,

But I’m afraid to go

Back home.

Five years can change the place

I’ve been building up

And I don’t want spoilt thought.

M.A.T.

Blown about by breeze’s breath,

Loitering lonely in sun dappled shade

Through heath and holler of hyacinth scent.

Forlorn, forsooth, futilely searching

Blessed escape from Hardyan bequest,

Bygone persona built on bespoke yearning

For fleeting reprieve of time’s incessant jest.

Dimmet disperses evanescence duskily

Foisting Apollo into practiced egress,

Witch’s-ring bound moon palely metes

Evening’s primrose sultry incense.

Cacophonous cicada symphony connotes

Clicking clocks and tumbling sands,

Day absconds advancing night

Time’s ceaseless cycle of rural romance.

M.A.T.