Maeve Binchy owed the citizens of Dublin half her fortune in royalties because of how she famously evesdropped and stole conversations. Tony Curtis was the first person I heard to say all poets borrow and great poets steal. So when the text arrived reporting on a conversation between my grandchildren on the way home from school I couldn't resist. So here it is and as usual please read enjoy share and feedback.
Characters:
Harvey: a five-year-old boy just started primary school
Walter: a two and a half-year-old brother attending first year in creche
Conversation coming home in the car:
H: How was your day Walter?
W: Grunt
H: Was it good?
W: Grunt
H: Say Aye
W: Aye
H: Did you eat all your dinner? Aye?
W: Aye
H: Did you eat it by yourself. Aye
W: Aye
H: I’m very impwessed with
you.
Clíodhna
22.09.2018 10:03
Gorgeous!
Tom McLoughlin
21.09.2018 16:42
Two lovely looking boys, Peter.
I know they bring you great joy, and may they eve do so
Avril
21.09.2018 15:54
Oh, how lovely 💖
Corina
21.09.2018 15:51
Ah Peter the treasures of life! Out of the mouth of Babs....full of fun and mischief, hope you are well xx
Catherine D
21.09.2018 15:14
I love this photo Peter! They look so happy and wild - love it! They overshadow your poem - but in this context thats a good thing :)
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