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Sorceress
The inspiration for the Sorceress poem Sorceress In dark, skeletal woodland, Limbs of trees hang bleached and broken. Their finger like twigs, now robbed of jewels, Point sharply to the thieving culprit; Sorceress, temptress, fiery queen, Bewitching mistress of the light. Man’s nemesis, found in the sooty Footprints of a ruined forest. ©Bernie Delaney I wrote this poem in response to the visual prompt of the above picture. ” What do you See? “ Other Photo by Angie Corbett-Kuiper on Unsplash I found it later on and thought that it worked with the poem. Other Poems: Concrete Footsteps Ice Drop Anchored to the Past The Window …
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Noelle and Rosamund Ffrench, Photograph c 1903
Noelle and Rosamund Ffrench Photograph This photograph of Noelle and Rosamund Ffrench was taken at Hill’s Studio in Galway city around 1903. It is a fairly typical child portrait of the times, though a little more relaxed than most. I love the way that they added a country feel by the use of props, like the gate and spade. Props were very important in those days and helped to convey the story behind the image. Indeed photographers often used them to distinguish between girls and boys at a time when very young children of both genders wore dresses. That is why so many vintage photographs of girls include dolls, while…
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Concrete Footsteps
Concrete Footsteps Pounding, concrete footsteps Announce your arrival And soon I am trapped, Torn by metal claws And imprisoned by geometry. Forget me at your peril, In the darkness I persist. I may be enslaved, but Your book of knowledge was stolen And, in the final chapter, It will be reclaimed. ©Bernie Delaney Notes I wrote this poem in response to the visual prompt of the above picture. ” What do you See? “ Other Poems: Ice Drop Anchored to the Past The Window
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Fruit Rainbow Poem for Children
Fruit Rainbow Red rosy apples are always in style, The orange satsumas fit in my hands. Yellow bananas are shaped like a smile And the green juicy grapes taste just grand. Blue little blueberries have a perfect name And indigo raisins are tiny and sweet, The round, violet plums are part of the game, So eat the fruit rainbow, it’s a healthy treat! ©Bernie Delaney The Poem I must miss teaching my little 4 and 5 year old children more than I realised. Fruit Rainbow is a poem written for young children. It includes all the colours of the rainbow in order and associates each one with a particular fruit.…
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Creativity: Joy and Torment
Joy And Torment When setting up my Cavewoman blog , I had a vague idea that it was to be centred around the theme of creativity. But what did that really mean? After a while, I tried to get to grips with where I was heading. So many thoughts and ideas started swirling round my head, like a swarm of leaves let loose by an autumn storm. The more I tried to chase them, the more they flew from my grasp and left me feeling bewildered. What was I going to focus on? Who was ever going to read this? And, most of all, why was I doing this, exposing…
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Short Story: The Hunting Ground ( Flash Fiction )
The Hunting Ground The shop tills clanged to their own rhythm, like the beating heart of an urban jungle. The scent of mingling perfumes hung in the air, enticing passers-by to drop in. Rows of assorted boots and shoes were found at ground level, while racks of desirable fashion formed a canopy on top. In between, at eye level, were shelves of other temptations. Sparkling pieces of jewellery, each neatly boxed and colour coded. Designer handbags, with price tags to match. Luxurious scarves that dangled at just the right height. ” Shopping Nirvana”, Bill used to joke. The top layer of Dolan’s Department Store, the canopy, was Janet’s favourite hunting…
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Ice Drop: Poem
Ice Drop In the cold depths of winter, The frozen snow Holds close and deep The secrets entrusted It to keep. On a thawing day in spring, A shiver of sunshine Touches the snow, Shakes loose an ice drop With its’ glow. A single moment in suspense, A lifetime in the waiting. Ice drop melts, falls, Splashes in tears, Exposes all. ©Bernie Delaney Notes on Ice Drop Poem: You can see a larger version of the image by clicking on it, or you can view on flickr. Other poems: Anchored to the Past …
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Halloween Banshee Poem for Children
Halloween Lone Banshee Silently Emerges from Behind the shadows, Watching you, stalking you, Preparing to pounce on you. Shivers of fear run down your back, You sense the threat of looming attack… Shrieks split the night, it’s no Halloween prank! The Banshee “Growing up I heard many stories of grown Irish men and women scuttling off across fields and jumping over ditches (our natural greenery such as trees and plants that separate one field from another) if they thought they heard the Irish Banshee’s lonesome, mournful keening resounding throughout their farm. ” Mary Kelly Godley The tale of the Banshee has a special place in Irish mythology and its’ origins…
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Childhood Memories , Adult Thoughts
Childhood Memories “The Past beats inside me like a second heart ” John Banville, The Sea What are your earliest childhood memories? Studies on this topic vary, but the general consensus is that the earliest valid memories are from about the age of three. Some people claim to remember events before that age. Others can’t remember anything before the age of seven. Does that matter? Not really, according to the experts. It seems that what actually matters is the quality of the experience that you remember. This is significant because it lays the basis of your self identity , helping to shape you as the person you are…
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Anchored to the Past: Poem
Anchored to the Past Anchored to the past, Where shadow hunters stalk the air and sea, There is no escape , no sanctuary. Squawking seabirds, stinging jellyfish, A lone shark looming large Baiting its’ next blood-soaked feast, All await in the ocean of yesterday. Fight or flight to freedom? The mind is trapped in sunken time, Its’ anchor well secured. Free? How can one be free When the captors are shadows And the rusting chains of yesterday Shackle victims below. ©Bernie Delaney Notes: This is an updated version of a poem, based on a picture of an anchored shipwreck, Donegal , that I’ve been working on recently.…