Geraldine Moorkens Byrne Poems

Here, among the hollyhocks
be-decked, like the lady I am
...

First
was the spear shaft
...

Somewhere
there is a verdant, green and sunlit glade
o'erhung by ivy, kissed by violets
where Bella Donna sweeps a bow
...

I collect words;
Collate and catalogue them
...

In morning mist
and just before the day
awakens fully to the noise of man
stand on the brink
...

The girl on the bus
looked normal
’til she fixed her eyes on mine
and solemnly assured me
...

There are scratches now,
tiny imperfections,
like the laughter lines of a supermodel.
Mere creases, hints of age.
...

Virtual betrayal

Knickers! I say rudely
Damn and Blast; and other less
...

Panic? No.
Unease; a queasy swell of uncertainty and discontent;
heart beats faster, hard to concentrate,
fidgeting and fretting.
...

So it has come to this, reading the future
in small boxes of text, in the Evening Herald
seeking predictions in lines of small font
seeking patterns and clutching at worn straws
...