Bake-a-yarn

Thursday, 13 September 2018

Rejuvenation

In the Middle Ages they used wine-

I’d be up for that-

Doused, sated, soaked

Then let the shedding begin.

In Latin it means

To strip off leaves-

It happens naturally to us

Every day, anyway.

But to speed up renewal

Crush almond shells

and administer to the flesh

with finger nails.

Then stand in the sun

Where its crepuscular rays

Reflecting skin cells

Scatter light beams.

Like a Monstrance held high

In Exposition or Benediction

Pouring its blessings

Exfoliating you.

Tuesday, 11 September 2018

And If......

If my mother had not gone to the Pictures that night

Or had gone to the Castle, instead of the Astor

If she had arrived five minutes later

My father would have been ahead of her in the queue,

and not behind,

And he would not have seen the fire in her hair

Catch the light of the evening sun

And if he had looked down at that epiphanic

Moment to retrieve a fallen coin

I would have been unconsummated

And if he had not followed her gaze

To the pair of shoes,

Or was it a handbag?

In McKinley’s shop window, and said,

“Would you like me to buy that for you?”

And if he had not startled her with his boldness

that unleashed laughter and not distain

My non- existence would have been ensured.

For it takes such fortuitous events

Such flukes in the passage of time

Such serendipities

To make us who we are.

Friday, 7 September 2018

Irish Time

Irish Time

(To nobody of my acquaintance!)

When she says she’ll be here at 10

and it’s already 9.30

You know it’s just an aspiration.

She’ll have to run to the shops,

locate the cat,

let it in,

let it out,

walk the dog,

water the dahlias,

and finally, in the car,

she’ll remember- the immersion!

run back, turn it off,

and let the cat in again.

And you’ll have time to

bake a cake,

hoover the house,

plant seeds,

clean the bathroom,

write a poem,

wash the crockery,

do a handstand,

polish the cutlery,

and maybe even,

hopefully,

airbrush yourself.

And all you can think is-

Thank God she’s Irish!

Thursday, 6 September 2018

Galahad

Didn't you just love those teenage crushes!

Today on my city park walk

my heels crushed heather,

City heather, but heather all the same,

And I thought of you

In Northern climes

In olden times

On mountain paths

Leading a group of us

Beyond our stride,

Daring to make mountaineers

out of a bunch of Teens,

All with a crush on you-

Your bow- legs arching the sky

Hair- sun burnished

Knight- helmeted

Anorak- armoured

Galahad -clad

Following your Holy Grail.

Wednesday, 5 September 2018

Summer

There’s something mischievous

about summer. The way

It goes to our heads.

Upturns our routine.

Upends our days.

Sends us scampering

to retrieve straw hats

that smell of

Spain

and skirts that scatter

coconut in their train.

We stockpile factors

and balms and visors

and shades, as if

this reverse eclipse

will never end.

There’s something comforting

about its tail.

The fallen leaves, the night rain

The scarf to be donned

The head regained.

Monday, 3 September 2018

Inspired by John Corless' "Are You Ready"

When the row with the partner
has gone on for over a week
Are you ready?
To admit that it was you
who left his nearly- new
trousers in the dry cleaners
six months ago
and forgot to collect them.
That you stowed his passport
in a burglar proof stash
and can't remember where.
That you did open his mail
thinking that it might
involve you,somehow.
That you read his emails
all of them
when he so casually
left the page open.
And that's how you know
about you -know -what.
That you did wash
his favourite white tee-shirt
alongside a pair of red knickers
from Bargain Basement.
That you sold the unstrummed
unsung guitar on Done Deal,
and bought a foot spa
with the proceeds.
That you did vote for the turkey
in the 1997 Presidential election.
That you'd do it again
if he decided to run
next term.

Are you ready?

Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2018

Sunday, 2 September 2018

The 99th Liffey Swim

To the Swimmer who nearly won the 99th Liffey Swim

If the tide’s not with you

You can’t win

And even though

You were in fine fettle

And your handicap was good

And the punters tipped you

As Odds-on-Favourite

And A -Sure-Thing

And even though you led

The shoal under Capel St. Bridge

Through The Millenium

To The Ha’penny Bridge

The tide was against you

And the sharks were nibbling

At your fins

And even though the crowd

Loves a front runner

A veteran Fish

That hasn’t missed a Liffey Swim

In over forty years

The young sharks were hungry

And unsentimental

And the tide was with them.