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Whilst rediscovering a lost love in Ireland, I spent 14 months absorbing inspiration, in the cradle of storytelling. I am currently working on putting some impressions into a small chapbook.
Irish Midsummer The young hare on country roads, blurred speed, dancing with danger. Ears flat back along, legs pumping, stretched out in thumping rhythm. Teenagers vogue among foxgloves, buttercups, daisies… Identify fatal perfumes inviting the innocent, unwary sniffer to twitch inquisitive noses roadside. Sudden glare of spotlights freeze-framed, seconds star struck - THWACK! Her body flies up, stops. Legs loosely flap - fold. Here lies… with body stilled, knees crossed like a lady… Frances Macaulay Forde © 2003
#POEM:IrishMidsummer #FrancesMacaulayForde #BOOK:SketchingInIreland #IrishPoems
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Perth Words... exploring possibilities. 