Treasure Island

Dónall Dempsey

(15/07/56 / Curragh Camp, Co. Kildare, Eire.)

MO CAILIN ALAINN RUA(My Beautiful Red Haired Girl) /RED RIVER/WEARING HER HAIR - Sequence


MO CAILIN ALAINN RUA
(My Beautiful Red Haired Girl)

Your hair
taken by the wind

blown
into flame

a fiery red
Medussa

standing on
the edge

of this

mountain
a world

turned to stone

as if your gaze
froze this landscape

into place.

I too
still as stone

your hair
flaring up into the air

fiery snakes
like thoughts

bursting out of your mind
fighting the sunset

that only
a small box camera

captures
& contains

this photo
cutting off your head

from the rest of you

mythical
untouchable

mo cailin alainn rua

mo cailin alainn rua.

***

RED RIVER

Your hair
trickles down your back

in curls...curls
curl after curl

rivers of ringlets
cascading down your spine.

I want to drown
in the waters of your hair.

You wear a waterfall
over each shoulder

The fiery flames
of your tresses

crashing over thigh & hip & buttock!

My hands
like fishes

swimming all over
your body

splashed with the beauty
of your hair

touching & touching

the sheer
nakedness

of
you.

***** **

WEARING HER HAIR

You stand
before me

dressed only
in the dress

that your hair
weaves about you

naked
yet
not

you wear
your hair

as a magical
garment

from a half remembered half forgotten fairytale.

You undress
throwing your hair over each shoulder

I come to you as if a spell
commanded me to & you

wrap me
in your hair.

Both our
nakedness

wearing your hair
sheltered here

lost amongst
kisses.

***
A fellow poet(well, it wasn't a fella) divulged that she too was red of the hair(this had been unknown to me) and so this homage to redheads came into being just on this wisp of information...the memories and images flood back into being.

Submitted: Friday, May 30, 2008
Edited: Thursday, January 08, 2009

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Comments about this poem (MO CAILIN ALAINN RUA(My Beautiful Red Haired Girl) /RED RIVER/WEARING HER HAIR - Sequence by Dónall Dempsey )

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  • Original Unknown Girl (7/25/2008 6:41:00 AM)

    Donall, this poem is beautiful. The imagery astounding, in my mind's eye can see a red-haired woman stood atop a mountain with hair flowing. Oob I just saw there were two more I didn't read. What a wonderful trilogy of titian tresses! HG: -) xx (Report) Reply

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