Brian P FitzGerald

My heart is held in icy grip
A biting wind now takes my breath
Along the path I struggle and slip
Before me dance the wraiths of death.
...

speaking of shocking things
as people do these days
i noted an incident in the centre last week
which really made my blood run cold
...

I hear the waves below the cliffs,
I smell the new-ploughed soil,
I hear the gentle whirr of bees
And watch the clouds pass me by.
...

Poppy alone, so tired, so bored,
On the bench, shiv'ring and cold,
By all her lovely friends ignored.
'Poppeeee! ' - a voice so clear and bold.
...

So what is memory? Why so fleeting?
It catches the soul when time has passed -
Recollections so soft and warm,
But ‘neath the tree asleep she lies.
...

A murky mist now grips my brain.
My thoughts, they reel in mire so chilling;
My eyes see nothing but driving rain;
Despair is such, no hope instilling.
...

The freezing draught deeply bites;
A grey-robed priest now shuffles past
"Let us Pray" the rector cites,
My collar I raise, I glance at the words.
...

Ah, little woodlouse,
wood-rot emerging,
light-avoiding, damp-a-seeking
along the path you crawl.
...

One day soon, so soon, thought Poppy
I'll walk and walk on the moon with Moppy
"She's funny and strange! " said Poppy
"So weird she has three pegs for legs."
...

Through hopeless gloom and chill I stare,
With icy drops on branches wet,
No longer distant hills I see in sunlight glare
My memory dim, my eyes are blurred - and yet
...

I stroll along the winding track
That leads me down to Millington Wood;
The sun is warm upon my back -
I pause, and look where once we stood.
...

We gather today to wish you health -
Wæs hæl, wæs hæl a toast to all;
For you we raise a glass for wealth
A heartfelt toast that's not too small.
...

Spare a moment to salute the dead;
(Grieve oh grieve for victims who died!)
Facing religious extremists in dread,
For their god their lives denied.
...

The morning wakes: the sun’s misty rays
Touch yonder crest
Of Middleton Wold above the hazy vale
T’wards the distant west.
...

I Hear the Church Bells Ringing Now
- A Land of Milk and Honey

The bells now ring across the vale
...

I

No soul sees:
...

Where Moses Crossed the Nuwebian Shore


He ponders the tide caressing the beach -
...

1831

At my desk I sit and stare,
An etching, old, dusty and grey -
...