Death of a President

22 November 1963

Friday evening, that time when
Tea was out and father was in
And the coal fire cracked
And the ash wood spat
And the flames danced
in the hearth of that living room.

Local boy does good

” He sets out to capture a lost moment in history; a hitherto forgotten time and place that most of us will never have experienced; a harsher time, yet a time afforded a seductive allure by evocatively wistful reminiscences."

Click here to see the review....

 Castledawson Poet 

Seamus Heaney 'from Field Work'

I love this one -  listen to it - on the podcast 'Fieldwork' ===========>

Where the sally tree went pale in every breeze
where the perfect eye of the nesting blackbird watched
where one fern was always green

I was standing watching you

The Falling Leaves

Today as I rode by
I saw the brown leaves dropping from their tree
In a still afternoon
When no wind whirled them whistling to the sky
But thickly, silently
They fell, like snowflakes wiping out the noon

What Ricky said..

It's my pleasure to read your book! Although I read only 15 pages provided by the website (sorry, I didn't buy it yet),

I have been moved by your words and senteces that stimulated my deep feeling of childhood and love.

In fact, a deep nostalgia pervaded in my heart when I first read a couple of words in your book.

 It was like Yesterday once more . .

A Love Letter from Emilie Blachère to Rémi Ochlik

Ochlik,
I’ve never found it so difficult to write. My dictionaries are useless. I can already hear you saying, “Sweet Blachère.” So instead I made a list of everything I loved about you.

My angel, my love:
I loved it when you made lists of things you wanted, and you wanted a Harley Davidson, a loft, a 22,000-euro titanium Leica, and you would say to me, “What? You work at Paris Match, don’t you?”

I loved it when you called me Blachère, or Blacherounette, when you had something you wanted to ask me.

Spiegel im Spiegel

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