Yes, we are all sick and tired of it. Yes, we are growing deaf to the sensible messages because we don't want to know. And the disputes and doubts are growing against the evidence. We are lonely in spirit, miss being touched and are losing our connectedness. So here is something I observed in this time that charmed me and warmed me. Read, enjoy, forward on, send feedback. You may notice that the image has nothing to do with the theme but are connected.
Catherine D
14.09.2020 11:36
I love the last line "he tickled his way through the day". This made me smile, I can see my three year old doing the same. Just lovely.
Sue Phillips
13.09.2020 17:33
I love it Peter. We should /could all tickle our way through the days.
Anne Gilleran
13.09.2020 05:56
The essence of living in the moment. Perfect!
Colm
12.09.2020 21:12
Pure wonder and infectious joy! Thank you Peter for distilling it’s essence.
Tom Dredge
12.09.2020 19:53
Beautiful poem Peter and very uplifting.
Clíodhna
12.09.2020 18:23
Gorgeous!
Latest comments
25.11 | 22:15
Grief is experience through the mundane. Simple but powerful. The accompanying image really compliments the poem.
07.11 | 11:14
Hi Peter,
A great observation! Social media can be a scary place... I also need to reduce my time there
Hugs,
John.x
06.11 | 16:24
A great one, Peter, in the context you describe. I don't read social media myself, I doubt my equilibrium could stand it. 'The balance of his mind disturbed' yes, I think it would be.
06.11 | 15:59
Yes, gossip is a weapon of mass destruction.
In my business as well as personal life I have zero tolerance.
Echoes of the Old on the New Battlefields
Warrior chiefs of the GAA were early on the field to prepare:
Posts and cones positioned to mark territories
Very young novices came later by parents’ chariots
clad and shod for the ensuing battles
Firstly, paced for speed, resilience and flexibility,
then marked off into opposing teams
Each warrior chief led a young squad of hopefuls
in further exercises to bring them to fit levels
There followed a huddle, an exhortation rant,
responded with clamour of intent and enthusiasm
Skirmishes began, speed across the field, hunt for the ball,
to be delivered as the goal, or to be prevented at all costs
Warrior chiefs egged on, instructed, altered the field of play
the young ’uns complied with fighting spirit
For every fall and hurt spells were cast on the side line
till fitness returned and they were entered back into play
Scores mounted, roars enhanced, casualties grew,
novices flagged and regrouped across the fields
Between bouts came the talks of encouragement
Stay back, pass, pass, pass, keep the pace.
Old hands passing skill onto new palms with dedication,
a gift of generous wisdom gladly given
Peter Clarke
20th April 2024