Like A Cat He Stretches AS I Tickle

As if commanding me to touch other parts

Or to get out the comb and tidy his hair.

He lies in the sun, fluid in his movements

Lazing, owning all he sees, surveying his land

Before drowsing, absorbing heat and sleeping

He has expectations as if he is my master

This my dog, O’Driscoll, not a man or cat!

He is the most catlike dog I’ve ever met

He cleans his paws regularly and toys with his prey

O’Driscoll is far to sexy for his fur and poses

On the rocks gazing out to sea, chest out

And that, oh that really makes me laugh

Some of the time he remembers he’s a dog

And is innocently earnest in all that he does

And of course every thing is his favourite thing.

Food — his favourite, walks — his favourite

Bones — nothing better, sleep — the best!

And naturally he does them all with diligence

He can look game to play with you anytime

Look disdainful if you get cross, or crestfallen

He looks embarrassed if you catch him doing bad things

Why can’t he lie on my newly washed clothes?

Or sneak out my lingerie to his lair?

He loves his mummy and wants her clothes!

So where would we be without O’Driscoll?

He gives us much laughter and sometimes tears

And we love to do with him his favourite thing

That means every single idea he has

His devotion is unwavering, loyal always

He lies at the door when I am out, waiting

Visiting my teen daughter regularly -duty

He will not eat anything until I return

He rolls on deceased creatures of the sea

Chases birds for fun, barks at cats with hate

He runs for a ball, but runs past me to score

A try for Ireland rugby team for which he was named

Published in Contemplate


One Hundred Memories

Is published by Dream Well Writing. So many thanks to Mel Wardle Woodend.

The Buzzard

Remember those late afternoon trips

to the beach? You would almost

always spot a bird of prey

hovering, watching, before diving

The day I recall is a buzzard

hanging in the sky. You pointed

and we chorused ”where? where?”

clambering around the car to see

You pointing, and still driving

Always calm, you gifted nature

to me

This anthology is in aid of the Alzheimer’s Society, on the 25th anniversary


Published poem…


Fireworks shot skyward, breaking and multiplying in descent
as my eyes were drawn to you, on the other side of the street.
it was how you walk, your spine motionless as you stride,
your cigarette glowed in the shadow cast by a streetlamp

The way you walk, distinctive, was known to me before
I knew you. A boring, quiet man I had thought, but then
you seduced me, you kissed me as I’d rarely known kissing,
you became the sun and moon, and your walk, sexy

Your love was generous and tender, your huge fingers
electrified me many times, tingled me, touching me in
soft secret sensuality, you are a constellation, stars, a galaxy
magical, your dark eyelashes when you slept, so blue your eyes

Pictures in my head, your face bending toward my breast,
you spoke my name as we lay together, in your need, craving
touch, your hunger overwhelmed me, gladly surrendering
how I still long to sleep beside you again, you’re so sexy

You pace the length of this road, I watch you, wondering
why I am not running downstairs to call your name out loud,
you were taken from me so suddenly, though you returned
but I am still at my window, watching, fearing that we are done