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They might talk about a place‘Inside Belmullet’And to tell the truth I couldn’t plainly seeFor to me brought up on the English languageTheir ‘inside’ was ‘outside’ and by the sea Belmullet town is small enoughGod help usA church hotel some shops and then the seaThere isn’t much insideI’ve walked around itMy cousin Hughie had aContinue reading “Inside Belmullet”

In the lonely daysJust after Margaret diedMy son and IWere moseying alongLost in our own sorrowsEvery morningLost when it was timeFor evensong Then one dayA sudden explosive angerCame bursting out of meAt something doneI shouted at my sonIn nasty temperI can’t remember nowJust what was wrong I apologised straightwayI felt so sorryFor aiming vitriolAt someoneContinue reading “Instinctive Wisdom”

Have you noticed?I luxuriate in memoryRecalling names and placesOf the pastRevisiting the peopleAnd the storiesThe happy timesThe sorrows that don’t last Sir Alex said he fearedTo lose his memoryWhen illness came upon himIn a flashTo lose that strong connectionTo your storyTo feel adriftWhere ocean currents crash Dementia leads the suffererInto desertsFamiliar faces placesThey’re all goneAndContinue reading “I Know I Love You”

The things we doLeave their mark upon usEspecially if we do themOften enoughLike praying night and morningHalf an hourIn chapel on my knees the quiet stuff For years and yearsIn common meditationThe Reds are on their kneesIn silent prayerTheir boss, Alphonsus saidIt is the secretAnd guarantee to heaven getting there Praying isA direct line toContinue reading “Holy Habits”

The cliffs at CeideFall sheer into the seaJagged layers of rockHorizontallyStand up in the stormNorth facing wallCrashing watersFour hundred feet the fall The rollers thatCome tumbling on the strandBeside Cross BeachThe Mullet’s quiet landEnjoy a gentle welcomeAs they meetThe force of earthThe sand beneath my feet The cliffs at CeideSpeak in louder tonesThe roar andContinue reading “Earth and Sea and Sky(A poem before breakfast)”

Jesus called disciples one by oneHis invitation bore their personal nameAnd different they were from one anotherNo joy at all if they were all the same Together he formed them as a groupNot a collective no, communityAll human life is made of these two elementsThe person and the good society The person on her own,Continue reading “Person And Society”

The day of Margaret’s funeralA long and busy dayFuneral car came by and picked me upMy cousin Anthony FlanneryWas with me at the timeAccompanied me to churchAnd so to pray Mass so well attendedBy all who loved her soFuneral procession to the graveThen a funeral breakfastAnd people gathered roundComfortable supportingEveryone Day stretched into eveningDinner inContinue reading “Coming Home”

I nearly didn’t go outside todayBut Friday four o’clockEnough ‘s enoughOut for a walkOver to the railwayWatched empty ‘Covid’ carriages go by Coming inMet my neighbour JohnCarrying a ladderAs he doesMusic aficionadoReading buffA book he recommendsBy Rodney Bews Turning in my roadI saw a lassieStunning is the word that I would useBlack jeans red topLongContinue reading “Take A Walk”

Travelling on a coach up to GavarnieThat Pyrenean village south of LourdesI spotted a pyramid shaped mountainWith snow and ice upon its shoulders moored We drove on up through narrow winding passesClimbing ever higher through the airI looked again to see my pointy mountainNo longer there the point was now a square A different angleContinue reading “Point Of View”

Hawkstone A mile long drive through fieldsLed into HawkstoneAnother drive mile long led out againOut to minor roadsIn deep SalopiaWe’re in the middle of nowhereDo you ken! We are students for the priesthoodIn an orderRedemptorists the preachersHell below!Separate from ordinary clergySeparate from everything we know Left for six years thereOn a slow cookerNever saw aContinue reading “Hawkstone”

Mouth and foot paintersAmaze meWhat they paintHow they learn the skillWhat determinationPerseveranceConcentrationTo overcome their ill Grandsons at an ageTo lift a pencilVery keen are theyTo make their markAnd I like themBeginning on a websiteDelight in simple joysTo write and talk Pauline down in ArklowIs a painterMerry is her nameHer website viewAnd Hughie, too, my cousinIsContinue reading “Markings”

Billy Connolly is 75 years old. To mark the occasion three artists were invited to make a portrait of Billy, pictures which now hang in a gallery in Glasgow, Billy’s sweet green place. John Byrne, Jack Vettriano and Rachel Maclean are the artists in question and their work has also been made into giant muralsContinue reading “The Days of Prophecy”

The cloister in Clapham is wide with a curved ceiling. A heating grate runs down along one side and wide windows flood the place with light. The floor is shiny marble bright. The shape of this main corridor in St Mary’s monastery reminds me of the London Tube and you could imagine a train comingContinue reading “Seven Bells”

Pensees de Pascal At the time of my ordination to priesthood my mother asked me what gift would I like. I asked for a Jerusalem Bible and that gift has been with me ever since, during 47 years of life. When I received the book and opened it I found inside a card that myContinue reading “Pensees de Pascal”

My first two years in seminary were dominated by the requirement of going to philosophy lectures, in which the lecturer droned on dismally and drearily in dead and dry scholastic language, and without any other sign of human animation, explaining to his long suffering audience the mysteries of ‘being’. Two years. When it was overContinue reading “The vital importance of being earnest”