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Seán Mac Falls Nov 2014
Tea and cup, ready,
Birds in garden weaving dream,
Kettle wakes, calling.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Tea and cup, ready,
Birds in garden weaving dream,
Kettle wakes, calling.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2014
Her angelic face,
Was deft softness, tranquility,
My bed of feathers.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2014
Her angelic face,
Was deft softness, tranquility,
My bed of feathers.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2014
Her angelic face,
Was deft softness, tranquility,
My bed of feathers.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2015
Frogs in distance sing  .  .  .
Foxes, herons, join in too,
  .  .  .  A round of croaking.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2014
Cadaver wants fame,
Posts— poetasteries  . . .
  .  .  .  Never sees it's lame.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
Snow capped mountains,
Bald flights of soaring eagle,
Dual forms Godhead.
Seán Mac Falls May 2013
Snow capped mountains,
Bald flights of soaring eagle,
Dual forms Godhead.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Out of shell, she broke,
Goddess face, Bottecelli painting—
'The Birth of Venus.'
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2012
She wakes, eyes open,
Rainbow scent of ambrosia—
First light of morning.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2013
Wind plays with her hair,
Silent serenades trailing—
  .  .  .  The breath of heaven.
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2013
She wakes, eyes open,
Rainbow scent of ambrosia—
First light of morning.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2015
Swallows round steeples,
Indifferent as enlightened ones,
Purple robes in skies.
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2013
Swallows round steeples,
Indifferent as enlightened ones,
Purple robes in skies.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Once rain would not fall,
Dry love had lost its oasis,
I stopped touching her.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2013
Wind whispered to sands,
All lines of the palm shall touch,
And the child was born.
Merry Crimble!  Happy Christmas!
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2014
Wind whispered to sands,
All lines of the palm shall touch,
And the child was born.
Merry Crimble!  Happy Christmas!
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2014
When I look at her—
This girl is only my friend,
But eyes betray me.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2014
Burnt leaves of autumn,
Drop, slanted in a brisk chill,
My heart is falling.
Seán Mac Falls Apr 2013
Burnt leaves of autumn,
Drop, slanted in a brisk chill,
My heart is falling.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2014
Long years without her  .  .  .
Clouds lower than blue mountains,    
  .  .  .  Smothering cold sun.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2013
To circle this world—
Hell in marriage with heaven,
I still bear our ring.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2014
High school fealty shines,
Linking Titans with lame hacks,
  .  .  .  Everyone is pleased.
Hello Poetry - wake up and smell the doff heresy!!
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2015
In the briar patch—
Little birds circle and chirp,
  .  .  .  Even sun confused.
Seán Mac Falls Oct 2012
Distance between us,
Countless tearing silences—
Loudest words unsaid.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2014
Distance between us,
Countless tearing silences—
Loudest words unsaid.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Distance between us,
Countless tearing silences—
Loudest words unsaid.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2014
Distance between us,
Countless tearing silences—
Loudest words unsaid.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2014
Small yellow flowers  .  .  .
Sparks sprinkled in meadows shine,
  .  .  .  Mirroring the stars.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Ruby comes to me—
Red taste of wine on her lips,
My glass never dry.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2013
Your eyes, flooding me,
Your anger, rousing the skies—
Rain drops with my tears.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2013
Your eyes, flooding me,
Your anger, rousing the skies—
Rain drops with my tears.
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2014
Your eyes, flooding me,
Your anger, rousing the skies—
Rain drops with my tears.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2014
Your eyes, flooding me,
Your anger, rousing the skies—
Rain drops with my tears.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2013
Little birdlings in trees,
Children flailing round branches,
  .  .  .  Wings wanting to fly.
Seán Mac Falls May 2014
Little birdlings in trees,
Children flailing round branches,
  .  .  .  Wings wanting to fly.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2014
Eyes of tigress look—
Her gentle ways gone at night,
Sacred and profane.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2014
Eyes of tigress look—
Her gentle ways gone at night,
Sacred and profane.
Seán Mac Falls Dec 2012
On the tablelands edge,
At dusk, severed lover sees—
Green hope turning gray.
. . . about Jules Verne's novel Le Rayon Vert (The Green Ray). According to Verne, when one sees a rare green flash at sunset - our own thoughts and those of others are revealed as if by magic.
Seán Mac Falls Jul 2013
On the tablelands edge,
At dusk, severed lover sees—
Green hope turning gray.
. . . about Jules Verne's novel Le Rayon Vert (The Green Ray). According to Verne, when one sees a rare green flash at sunset - our own thoughts and those of others are revealed as if by magic.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2012
Sad modern poets,
Kneel to all that's irony—
Worthless as a stunt.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Sad modern poets,
Kneel to all that's irony—
Worthless as a stunt.
Seán Mac Falls Feb 2014
Before new flowers,
Blooming, butterflies hover,
  .  .  .  A wreath in midair.
Seán Mac Falls Nov 2012
Outside light is cold,
Sleet sousing naked branches,
Whole world shivering.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
Outside light is cold,
Sleet sousing naked branches,
Whole world shivering.
Seán Mac Falls Mar 2013
Clover, bell of three,
Welsh Patrick, coracle and Gaels,
  .  .  .  Sacred trinities.
Legend (dating to 1726, according to the OED) credits St. Patrick with teaching the Irish about the doctrine of the Holy Trinity by showing people the shamrock, a three-leafed plant, using it to illustrate the Christian teaching of three persons in one God.  For this reason, shamrocks are a central symbol for St Patrick’s Day.

The shamrock had been seen as sacred in the pre-Christian days in Ireland. Due to its green color and overall shape, many viewed it as representing rebirth and eternal life. Three was a sacred number in the pagan religion and there were a number of "Triple Goddesses" in ancient Ireland, including Brigid, Ériu, and the Morrigan.



The coracle is a small, lightweight boat of the sort traditionally used in Wales but also in parts of Western and South Western England, Ireland (particularly the River Boyne), and Scotland (particularly the River Spey).  The word "coracle" comes from the Welsh cwrwgl, cognate with Irish and Scottish Gaelic currach.

Designed for use in the swiftly flowing streams of Wales and parts of the rest of Britain and Ireland.
Seán Mac Falls Jun 2013
All day sun is grey,
Still world covered in pale sheet,
Bird song lost in din.
Seán Mac Falls Jan 2015
All day sun is grey,
Still world covered in pale sheet,
Bird song lost in din.
Seán Mac Falls Sep 2014
All day sun is grey,
Still world covered in pale sheet,
Bird song lost in din.
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