Begin

With yellow roses

Scented on the touch

Of skin fragrent

In morning dew

With translucent glimpses

Of passing ghosts

Behind fluttering curtains

With words lined in order

Of radiant sentences

Constructs of telling paragraphs

In silver lined tales of imagination

With a smile

Radiant through time

Illuminating dusty trails

Where dreams sleep

Between adventure strolls

Frankie writing words 1st Jan 2022

Random

50 dreams are missing and they didn’t use the door

Just screamed a little hole where there wasn’t one before

Now the army and Gardai are searching high and low

For the saints who fell from grace with the rising of the low

The tide is flowing up hill

And the flies are kissing sky

The dreams are in the clouds

And the world is flying high

The birds are on the game now

The wall is crumbling soft

But smile is on the rise

With the mountain’s turning tune

The dew is singing poems

The cat barking songs

And the dog is sipping whiskey

With the burning of the woes

So let yourself be happy

Embrace a lonesome smile

And let the beauty find you

While the sun is in the sky

(C) frankie Mcgivney

Words thrown out random from a mind glad to feel the pen in hand for letters instead of numbers

May happiness embrace your souls

Saturday

They sense the special

In each other

My ma and my daughter

The wonder in their eyes

The gentle strength

Of their soul

The words of my ma

Expressions to explain

The exploration of the self

Is added to by the query of

Her grandchild

Standing over the place of rest

Of my grand parents

Shared with the ashes of my da

Her question with a twinkle

do you get to choose

Your grave neighbours ?

Catching my eye

The one we share in misdirected

Common beauty.

Our laughter mingled

With the words

Reaching beyond the ordinary

To a place where

Dreams embrace the wonder

Of thoughts drifting unheeded

By human restraints

To wonder at the beauty of the world

Where dragonflies drift within the mind

Through rainbow slides of self discovery

Gentleness

He could see it in her eyes the way she looked at him from behind the screen. her hand reached out to touch her son who had returned. The reinstated gentleness in him as obvious to her as the colour of the fields or the taste of hot tea after a walk of a stormy day.

The blood flowing in his veins cleaned and cleared, his mind behind his own eyes softer, more aware of the world around him, with memories fleeting but still there to be welcomed for the precious time until they flittered back behind doors not locked but jammed shut in need of prising open when the inclination would come upon him. Sometimes they just swing open on their own accord. A glimpse of beauty wrapped in a gift of feelings and images and heightened sensory delights.

he recognises in himself the words of the nurse. “when your mother says no she means no” with a smile on her lips for the respect for a woman of determined mind while it roams in a desert of uncertainty and fear.

In himself he embraces the gentleness. his words comforting his soul as he listens to conversations and recognises a calmness he lost among the chaos and the process of living.

not that the time between gentle tides was anything but filled with wonder and joy too. the ebb and flow on the sunny beach needs the ocean’s scream to sing the mellow tune of peace.

(c) Frankie McGivney 10/05/2021 (feeling blessed)

Old ground

Beneath the soil a beauty lies

Born of neglect sown by a love

For nature’s touch upon the soul

Of fauna’s mingling hug of flora

Where nettles wind their stinging leafs

In neighbourhoods with dandelion wisps

Drifting in golden skies and windy

Cites shadowing friendly towns

On the road to blessed villages

Where the pollen feeds the honeybees

Desire to create the earths pure taste

And the webs of spiders draw painted

Designs for flies to rest unsuspecting

For life to pass and the circle to replenish

In the glow of the suns breakfast gift

To evaporate the sweet dew upon the

Green blades where caterpillars chew

The wild garden holds the silence

I crave to enjoy reflecting the internal

Peace awarded to me by my return to

The inherent quietness of a silent youth

(C) frank mcgivney

plot

I wish I could say

I lost the plot

But I’d have to have found it first

So many words I have waiting

To sprint to finish the race

Lining up to slow for effect

Raring to roar for design

A structure waiting for logic

To define the curves of paths

Please spirit in the sky

Touch my mind with the tale

To light the shine of my writing soul

(C) Frank McGivney wondering what tale is there waiting to fill the void of the drunken keyboards lust for words

Dancing

I stroll down slow

On account of knees

I need of a mechanic

Of a medical inclination

The darkness of the night

Is cracked gently by the red

Of the sun waving farewell

To a moon heading for the

Land of kangaroo fields

The tunes in my mind

Pitter patter with a smile

I cast to the side

My frog eyed slippers

And with a breath deep

In my soul

I

Dance

In

The

Kitchen

On

My

Own

(C) frankie Mcgivney

Covid

Go on off with you now

You mutating feck

Go on back to where

You came from

Some dark place

Where nightmares

Cast shadows over dreams

We’ve had enough of you now

You malignant wee shagger

Don’t you know if you kill

The host then you’re left with

No toast to nibble upon

So off you trot

With your dodgy spikes

And your quaire auld shape

You have upon you

Away up out of the garden

And mind your own business

Go on

Go on

Go on

Go on

Go on

And don’t be coming back

Of with you know

Sheila bring out the shotgun

For the shooting of the covid

Have you been drinking frankie

Nothing much talking about biddy

Go on to bed frankie and leave the gun

Down and stop scaring the neighbours

Rightio there Margo

Sweet Jesus frankie

Can you not remember me name

Of course I can marie

Get in there out of the cold

And you naked and making

The neighbours feel inadequate

I’m hunting the covid

Get in or the covid will be the least

Of your problems

Right so Tanya

Little notes to myself

They dumped the Trump. Finally realising he wasn’t the winning card but losing cad

Katie Taylor beat the world

Feed the nightmares by eating a cheese sandwich. Does different types create different imaginings

Talking reaches out and takes sadness in its embrace

There’s no coming back from treating some one with the ultimate contempt of believing they will except a betrayal of love. The betrayal is nothing only a moment in time. The contempt of thinking so little of them represents an internal self definition which last a lifetime with no return

Love yourself the way your dog loves you

Love others like a cat loves you

Sometimes another human can make you turn away with the desire to lash down a Valium by drinking a dissolvable tramadol

Blind boy’s pod cast look it up

Take a break and learn from the laughter created by Tommy tiernan

Read something

Remember you belong

Don’t be going off asking an Irish person a question if you aren’t prepared to spent a bit of time listening to the story of the answer

The story won’t be all true but you know it’s not true and I know it’s not true but we both know it’s not true so that’s okay.

Problem is some people don’t realise the stories aren’t fully true. The real quest is to meet the challenge of knowing truth from story telling and discovering which to enjoy and which to ponder upon

Cats love while still protecting themselves by remaining the cat who allows the human into their lair

Dogs love by wagging their tails and jumping around like a lunatic just out of the house for the bewildered after 20 years in a strait jacket

No matter how bad COVID is or anything else the options are to learn from the experience or to not

(C) frankie Mcgivney writing stuff