Martin Moore
Martin Moore Poems
Achill
The Achill sound is calling me to its bare and barren shore
A sanctuary to which I flee in the shadow of Slievemore
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PORTRAIT
Forming a two headed bodiless beast
Two horses behind the low stone wall
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THE SHADOW
In intimate rings of tongue-tied tales
Through tender bracken stems
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Forgetful
In my mind I think I'm twenty still
With years to go and time a plenty
Truth is, I'm travelling fast downhill
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BORN TO FIGHT
Optimistic light upon the shore guides ships in from the sea
Penetrating sun through every pore brings no reason to the powers that be
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CARNA
The haunting sound of a curlew slowly fades
As its source flies into the morning sun,
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CHILDHOOD DAYS
My childhood days coming spilling back
We occupied ourselves quite easily then
Imagination was a gift, not a necessity.
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DISPOSSESSED
A gaping wound perforated the day
A scab, clawed into contagion
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DRIFTWOOD HEART
My senses lost in profound thought
I wandered aimlessly on shore
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FREEDOM FROM WITHIN
A naked tree, I stand in a lonely field
Through my bare boughs the winter winds rage
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GALLEYHEAD (DUN DEIDI)
Down a narrow road with grass strip centre
As the sun slips through the fingers of the broad horizon
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IN DREAMS
In haunting dreams I see you there
Standing, frozen to the spot
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KILBRIDE REVISITED
What a prehistoric practice
Is burying ones dead?
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OH TORTURED SOUL
What hidden anguish have you got?
With worry etched upon your face
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SEA EAGLE
You dared to drift too close to shore
Upon the head of Bagenbaun
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SYCAMORE BLUES
That winged samara, indehiscent seed
Seduced me with your fluttering side show
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THE ARRIVAL
Patience is a virtue or that's what they say
It's hard to be patient on this kind of day
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Martin Moore Biography
Welcome to my poetic representation of the highs and lows of my journey through this wonderful life on earth.)
The Best Poem Of Martin Moore
Achill
Achill
The Achill sound is calling me to its bare and barren shore
A sanctuary to which I flee in the shadow of Slievemore
I long to walk Keel beach again and wander through the hills
And stroll Dooniver in the rain, to breathe and take my fill
Of scenery so rare and grand, an unspoilt heavens bed
And rest a while upon Keem strand on the way to Achill head
No better journey can be had at dusk or seen at dawn
Than the panoramic vista from the broad back of Minaun
To walk the deserted village route in the early morning mist
And linger savouring the view, a must upon the list
And Mick "The Shore" on race day circling the sound
The wind, the yawl, the silent bay and the cheers from the hotel grounds
And Grainnes castle peeping on the little quay below
Or the tidal waters seeping with the daily ebb and flow
The slipway at Bulls Head to Inisbiggles shores
Romantic dreamers fed and all left yearning more
Take a look at Achill beag from the wonders of corran
The wild Atlantic beauty tugs at the heart of every one
Clare Island in the distance mysterious and dark
Where land and water meet per chance the white foam horses lark
Upon that ancient sacred Isle of past poetic lore
I'll stand in awe at every mile ‘til I return once more
Martin Moore Comments
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1/20/2026 3:29:52 AM # 1.0.0
