Margaret O Driscoll
Margaret O Driscoll Poems
I took a trip down memory lane
along the byways last September
Pointing out familiar places
and events I well remember
...
Manicured ornate show gardens
To attract visitors, the goal
Flower beds neat and fancy
But the wild calls my soul
...
Awed by its architecture
I step inside
Gigantic Gothic arches
Rise on either side
...
Bull frogs loudly croaking croaking
Amid pond lilies in the midday sun
A black swan displayed his annoyance
head held high strutting at everyone
...
Velvet reed mace by the lakeside
Swans glide on the mirror serene
Buttercups gold among grasses
In heat haze a calming scene
...
'Clouds like wooly sheep' he said
'means it will stay clear'
His weather eye still accurate
as it has been year after year
...
A hot Summer's day
market stalls everywhere
Smoke rises from the barbeque
customers queue in the square
...
Many times he had to leave
No work here, he couldn't stay
Suitcase in hand he left for the boat
I'd wave, then I'd run away
...
On a Summer holiday years back
Staying in Sligo town
We planned the week's activities
The rain kept pouring down
...
Way out at low tide mark
Where there are waves of giant kelp
A dilisk gatherer lifting bags on his back
Calls his brother for help
...
He checks his neighbour's bee hives
He's the only one still living there
His neighbours have fled the war
The town in ruins, shops all bare
...
I wish for them a curious mind
answers to questions they pose
I wish for them a love of nature
interest in all that grows
...
Come lie with me on warm grass awhile
Inhale the sweet clover, the scent of pure soil
Walk hand in hand beneath hawthorn trees
White petals floating by in a warm gentle breeze
...
Their work dictated by the tides
Some days they picked at first light
Baskets strapped to their shoulders
...
Walking along in a light shower
In a quiet spot, for peace to seek
Flying overhead by the trees
A collared dove, a twig in it's beak
...
Across from the Observatory I hear
Rustling in a tree as I pass
Broken beech masts fall down
More lie scattered in the grass
...
She held an armful of lilies
As she passed along the way
White, with fragrant yellow centres
A beautiful bouquet
...
Storks nests piled on pylons
Along the motorway
A stop to buy handcrafted gifts
From a roadside stall display
...
Looking for the unaccounted ones
Loved ones numbered on a list
Heartbroken families
Soldiers sadly missing, soldiers sadly missed
...
Margaret O Driscoll Biography
Margaret is a very busy mother of seven and grandmother of eleven.She is a poetry writer, curator and editor who lives in Co' Cork, Ireland. She likes to write poems about nature and about funny incidents but also writes about serious issues which affect many people. Her poems have been published in several anthologies and magazines, one is reproduced by Hodder Education UK for a GCSE English Literature publication. Her poems have been translated into Polish, Bulgarian, Finnish, Persian, Punjabi, Ukrainian, Russian, Irish and Serbian. She self published her first collection of poetry in 2016, 'The Best Things In Life Are Free', it has received many rave reviews and it's available to buy online at Lettertec Books. One of her poems 'In The Forest' is reproduced in the current journal of the Society of Classical Poets. Her calendar poem for children, 'Children's Nature Guide' is published in an international children's poetry book, 'Let's Play Together'. She's a Social Care Worker and likes walking, singing, dancing, and reading, to unwind. She loves to spend time with her grandchildren exploring, gardening, watching films and cooking.)
The Best Poem Of Margaret O Driscoll
Just Passing Through
I took a trip down memory lane
along the byways last September
Pointing out familiar places
and events I well remember
Twin peaks away in the distance
mountains all hazy in blue
To the southwest a woodland
all around an amazing view
The ditches purple with heather
fuchsia drips red in the hedge
Swallows feast for their migration
montbretia in bloom at the edge
The hay fields that once resounded
to the corncrakes constant call
Where hay was cut and turned
when dry piled in haycocks tall
I passed along the old school route
I thought of the stream roaring down
Water gushing out of the gulley
froth rising, the bubbles peat brown
The turn where I saw a stoat
slinking along, tail end black
The hill where the kestrel hovered
then suddenly launched an attack
A region remote and rugged
where stars lit up the dark nights
Where in childhood I gazed in amazement
at the swirling Northern Lights
Time passes but memories remain
to be passed to generations new
Cherish those magical moments
we are all just passing through
Margaret O Driscoll Comments
Your poetic talent express throgh your poems. I really congratulate you.excellent!
Delivering Poems Around The World
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7/18/2026 6:47:42 AM # 1.0.0
Love the bio a real woman I bow