Bernard Kennedy Poems

I never thought him dead.
Only running in the park,
and sitting stretched by fire,
or with his paw,
...

Summer is brought
through this lemon zest
of colour-
reflected under the chin,
...

We danced like gypsies in the heat of day,
and matched our colors bright and gay,
and music strings brought tears of love,
and bands of strolling players moved above,
...

I met my father, on
the hill of the road,
at kilmashogue.
he was striding down from
...

It was a cool thing,
from the movies and a fix or high and then a relax.
Coffee and cigarettes for a fashion for a fashionista.
It gathered fellow travellers and was arty and fitted de rigeur of the day.
...

A joy rings out, throughout,
family, neighbourhood and clan,
'thou art here', born, now,
joy is ours.
...

The summer morning,
it rises to the sound
of dogs greeting day, in garden near,
and Fuschia, waking in the morn
...

He was hungry for dinner at eight,
and swaggered onto music stage,
with audiences eager for song,
and presence of the confident master of
...

A dream of the father, and
now, in dream of Joseph,
a new dream ' mind the woman,
and the child',
...

from where? For Who?
Coming out? Of What?
If we view from the window
we see a limited and framed
...