We are woman, we are beautiful
When it comes to Irishness, the world is our oyster. So many magical voices, celebrated throughout the world. The ones you know are household names… And the list is by no means exhaustive. I could have selected a few that have really struck chords in my heart; but, there is one, one, anonymous, living and breathing by River Lagan, who devotes her time and care to vulnerable people, hence double-touched my heart.
Don’t ask me for a photograph, as I have yet to immortalise her smile, and, light in her eyes. Her name too remains anonymous, for it is wished this way.
So, for you, beautiful Irish one,
a first poem.
Every rose hip has a meaning.
Of all the dreamers in
has always been your sanctuary,
fog lit at night,
I sometimes see here
The firecrest deep in your eyes.
In between lush and
morning has a meaning, like
a tattoo on shoulder
you wander between feeders;
behind the back of every leaf, there is a heart
ready to pounce, between
the rose and the