Transient Love
Or the day I went to a party all alone and met three beautiful girls and slipped away unseen

They cannot resist me,
Bless their hearts,
They kiss me and kiss me again,
Bless their hearts,
But what am I to them?

They are young and beautiful,
Bless their hearts,
With bodies made in heaven,
Bless their hearts,
Never to be touched.

They say the nicest things,
Bless their hearts,
Like ‘I love you madly’
Bless their hearts,
Or ‘We must meet again’.

But when no one is looking,
Bless their hearts,
I quietly slip away,
Bless their hearts,
And silently shut the door.

And so the party’s over,
Bless their hearts,
I loved them dearly,
Bless their hearts,
And how they loved me!

But now at last I’m home and safe,
Bless their hearts,
Cuddled up in bed,
Bless their hearts,
With mine own sweet own.

I had not the heart to tell them,
Bless their hearts,
For she is mine and mine alone,
Bless her heart,
And I am hers and hers alone.
By A. E. Mouse

The Seagull
White, grey and bird smooth,
a seagull stands high atop a building.
Bows its head and with beak
quick quick quick
rapid rubbing, some cleaning
of feathers then stops.
Better now and extending a
wing, slow, knowing,
stretching, long limb muscle
breathes slowly out then back.
And done,
to settle down
on feathered down,
a high rest from the sea.
I’d be you.
I gladly would,
when, come later,
high up overhead,
I’d cry seven quick squawking cries
in shrill succession, there
aloft and soaring on ocean tempered currents
and in twisting salt-flumed air
I could look down as I away
up and up and up.
By Virgil Worth

Thief in the night
For rumbling thunder from my pollen blocked head
She pinched and pushed me from the nuptial bed
On quilted seams I now shift and sway
And toss and turn the humid night away.

It serves me right I’m a silly shite
For being so covetous of another man’s wife.
No rest or sleep for such a wicked thief
For the stealing of another man’s life.

Sore and tired should be my feet
Long the nights where no lids meet
For I who in my pride did seek
To usurp another’s dreams.

For in stealing dreams I steal the hope
Of lives that could have been.
By Noel Watson

Where Can I Find My Soul?
In a butterfly’s silent flight
In the moon illuminating the night.
In the winter’s first snow
In a fireside’s warm glow.

In the light at the end of day
In the joy of children’s play.
In the heather and in the gorse
In a river’s gentle course.

In the waves caressing the shore
In a bird’s majestic soar.
In the chorus on the eve of dawn
In the flowers that border the lawn.

In the sun shining through the trees
In the grass flowing in the breeze.
In a cloud drifting in the sky
In the stars way up on high.

In a stroll through country lane
In the peace of a mountain plain.
In a glade with the air so still
In the view from a rolling hill.

In the place where sea meets sky
In the park where small birds fly.
In a world of simple pleasure,
Your soul will find much to treasure.
By Brian Kelly

Early Flying – 1940s
Not brave was I,
Just one of many,
Who knew no fear,
With help we learnt to fly,
To take off and to land,

To take off and to land,
Like birds,
To fly amongst the clouds,
Both in sunshine and in rain,
To be alone up in the sky,
That was heaven to our soul.

That was heaven to our soul,
To be alone up in the sky,
To see the fields of poppies down below,
To see the cows and recognise the wheat,
To skim the trees and zoom up high,

To skim the trees and zoom up high,
No canopy my plane did have,
An open cockpit to feel the air,
The surge of power and then the silence,
As you throttled back.

As you throttled back,
And glanced around,
In those far off days,
The world was still untouched,
Slowly you came in to land.

Slowly you came in to land,
The slightest touch was all you felt,
The wheels upon the grass,
The tail sank and your were down,
The plane she came to rest.

The plane she came to rest,
They put her in the hangar,
And you went off to tea,
The next time that you would fly,
Who knows if you might live,
Or you might die.
By A.E.Mouse

Seen from the window
The jackdaw flew in swiftly
Swooped and grabbed the fleeing mouse
Soared.
His dangling prey caught the lunchtime wind
It fell to earth.
Reprieved!
No!
From high, the jackdaw dived
In a deadly display, of bill, quill and claw,
He seize the creature,
Soared and disappeared among the trees.
By Carmel McCarthy

As always, we welcome contributions to
The Poetry Place, which can be sent to the
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Ringsend, Dublin 4.