Monday, 19 September 2022

Yesterday

 


YESTERDAY

 

In the morning I ate peanut-buttered toast

and worked on a poem

called Bad Night’s Sleep

 

In the afternoon I washed the bird droppings

from the car and vowed never

to park it under that tree again

 

In the evening I watched Peatai

the Irish language programme

about pets and vets

 

And marvelled that I still remembered

the cĂșpla focail as Gaeilge

and vowed to take it up again

 

But at the moment I’m struggling with Deutsch

 that inflected language and its shifting goalposts

when it comes to articles and adjectives

 

Determined by Gender and Number and Case

unlike the Romance languages like French & Co

which call a halt after the first two categories

 

That nominative, vocative, accusative et al saga

that may ring a school bell

if you happened to study Latin

 

And I’m just hoping that Gaeilge

if I ever do take it up again

has Romantic Case roots…


Copyrigth 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

Thursday, 15 September 2022

Aqua-batics

 


In the realm of the Dancing Queen

Sweet Caroline and Don't go Breaking My Heart

we lurch from side to side and sometimes backwards

None of us in sync

Endeavouring to simulate the graceful lunges

of our coach's choreographed benders.

Easy for him on Terra Firma, I might add,

while we, all thirty five of us or so,

and mostly women, have to contend 

with the watery element of the Blue Pool.

Foot slip, side dip, face splash, forward crash-

none of these moves intended-

and where figuratively and collectively

wave upon aquafit wave

Another one Bites the Dust.


Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved


Pic above is from the Liffey Swim 2019. The 2022 event will take place on Saturday week 24th September.

Wednesday, 14 September 2022

In Search of a Theme

 


In search of a theme 

I read a poem about theme searching


And draw a blank 

as that poet did


Who ranged through various

potential topics:


Spurred affection-

a favourite of mine on a good day


The ruthless and relentless

passage of time


Done by every poet 

from Keats to Collins


The beauty of the ephemeral

be it rose or butterfly


The rise and fall of the Greats

evoking yet again the eternal countdown


So like him I lay down my pen

and listen to the sound of the clock ticking


And get on my knees and pray

for just one more day...


Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

Tuesday, 13 September 2022

Dawn

 

In case you're still in bed reader

I just want to describe

Give you something to dream on...


The Boston Ivy tendrilling the window is shimmering with dew

Stratocumulus clouds drift nonchalantly by

Bee-yellow Black- Eyed- Susans are opening their petals to the morning sky

The fluty baritone of the blackbird and the wood pigeon's lowing

are sounding a growing chorus of bird song

And in the west a waxing gibbous moon is still setting

mirrored reflection of the newly risen sun...


So enjoy your lie-in, reader, and dream on.

I know I would if I didn't have to walk the dog...


Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

Monday, 12 September 2022

Silence

 



There is the silence of the darkness

of the house before dawn


The silence of the waiting room

before your name is called


The silence in your breath spaces 

out-silence-in-silence-out-


The silence of your expectations

of your longing and desire


The silence of the park just after the rain

The silence of the distant horizon


There is the silence of the sun rising and the sun setting

Of the woods before the advent of birdsong


That will break the silence that has been gathering 

all though the night long...


Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved

Saturday, 10 September 2022

On Reading Billy Collins

On reading a poem by Billy Collins

who infuses the everyday

with a dash of magic realism

I contemplate my sticky notes on the wall-

Numeros 1-100 in Spanish,

though I am now embarked on a Deutsche word trail,


And along side them and billowing sideways 

a copy of one of Billy's poems entitled

On Not Finding You at Home


And I'm thinking

I'd never think to write a poem about that-

filling absence with substance 

more potent than presence


But I conjure you up now

a yo-yo strung out and spinning

somewhere in the Irish Sea 

or up the Boyne river,

my finger in the slip knot 

working the axle

spooling the string

that will reel you back home.


Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved


For some interesting facts about yo-yos see link below

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yo-yo

Friday, 9 September 2022

The Next Door Neighbour

 


I live next door to a writer of Crime fiction and last night she launched her third novel Buried Identity in her Cathy Spragg Series

It's set in the Midlands of idyllic Ireland and you'd be surprised at the goings on there!

 But DI Spragg is always on hand to keep things in order....

The book is available from the author but you may be advised to buy her two previous novels if you want the backstory to the main protagonist.

At 35 euro for all three...it's a steal...

https://www.facebook.com/people/Rosaleen-Flanagan-Writer/100063726170431/


And a poem I wrote about living next door to a writer...


The next door neighbour

 

You would wonder what goes on in there.

For it’s all hush hush

A bit like NASA I suppose

Like she’s about to launch a rival rocket to Artemis.


But you’ve run out of milk or eggs or whatever…

 

She’s still in the gear when you knock the door at midday-

The writer’s launch suit- PJs, wireless mouse in hand, specs on head

with that far gone look in her eyes

like she’s just stepped out of a space shuttle,

except that she’s not quite landed

and is suspended up there somewhere

between you and a crime scene-

 

And there’s a killer on the loose

and the plot is unravelling

and whatever hold she had on it

before you interrupted

is about to slip the cursor.

 

So for x sake

would you ever buy enough eggs

to see you through the week

and stop delaying the launch….


Copyright 2022 Cathy Leonard All rights reserved