BY FAITH ALONE (POEM)

still this soul one gentle reverie harmonic scraps form a beautiful evocation a hymn to the evening Sun sufferings past and sufferings present melt into memory no thing destroyed me sanded the old shoulders, sure but no thing penetrated this soul’s purple raincoat

CAVE HILL (POEM)

drunken mountain ever sleeping far above brown belfast, dirty men with dirty feet dancing ever noble and soaring, beneath are weeping women and ragged ould linen, bravery hidden within the white eyed children of hope