23 Beaver St (revisited)

I rarely publish poems here, maybe I should do that more. Anyway, I finished this one, and thought I’d put it into that Adobe Spark format. 23 Beaver St was the address of my grandparents, in Essendon. I looked it up on Google Earth and the house is gone now, which is fitting.
23 Beaver St

The view from the Amsterdam train

I’ve been looking at ways of presenting text online in more interesting or diverse ways. Nothing wrong with black text on a white page, but nice also to think of other ways to present and share text, with images as well. This is a new poem, using the app Adobe Spark I would have liked an embed within the blog, but the image below, which I found on Flickr, links to the poem and image as hosted on the Adobe site.


The Primrose Way

First poem for the year; I don’t usually post poems here, but once a year can’t hurt! I wrote this about the path on Beleura Hill, that used to be be used by the nuns when they walked down from the convent to the beach. The convent is gone, and the block is being cleared and will be re-built on, but the path endured for a while longer.

The Primrose Way

‘to the everlasting bonfire’


Edged in stones and agapanthus,

each as resilient as the other,

it arches down to a space

where a gate was


Recoiling against the new idea of path,

not straight, but narrow,

winding between trees

that are tall now and shadow it all.

Walk the walk of the believers

dutifully following

the elaborately constructed curves

that lead, inevitably,

like stations,

to a latched gate leaving,

entering the bare, uncharted

unblinking world of the sun.

Last Look at an Irish Lake

Good news this week with a new poem ‘Last Look at an Irish Lake’ accepted for publication by the magazine ‘Salt-Lick Quarterly’, a new magazine that’s already published some very good poets. The poem describes the anti-romantic reality when I was looking for the sublime, with a twist. The poem is due out in their Winter edition.

The magazine web page is at Salt Lick Quarterly