Desert...

Quite often the mind can become a desert
Vacuous and lacking any real connection
On a day when searching for new thoughts
It is obvious that there is only emptiness
A most arid place devoid of contemplation
Useful words are as absent as water droplets
For a time, this is such a godforsaken state
Momentarily a frustrating lack of progress
Like tripping over one’s own tied tongue
When confidence usually glides so freely
Amidst the vastness of usual expression
Such vacancy can return surprising results
Uncluttered minds can facilitate a wonder
As precious as finding a pink desert lily…
 
Eileen T O’Neill 24/10/2024

Letters...

 Dear Teenage Eileen,
 

I remember how much you loved writing letters back in those times.
You had a very keen fascination with stationery departments.
Your favourite purchase was a Basildon Bond writing pad of forty sheets
Champagne colour, watermarked vellum quality, with matching envelopes
The type of pen used to write letters was an equally important choice.
For special recipients, a blue ink filled fountain pen was always selected
I am sure you remember how many times you rewrote words until exactly right
Blotting paper used to capture the imprints and any messy mistakes
Writing to pen pals was an enthusiastic hobby back in those days
Finding interesting topics to share from Belfast across oceans of miles
Life then was uninteresting with The Troubles of those days dominating living
Your faraway friend Pam wrote to you occasionally from Beloit Wisconsin  
Her letters arrived in assorted colours of envelope and typed in a grey print
You exchanged news from respective lives, though her life was more interesting
She had at least three boyfriends and you barely had any friends, outside of school
The civil unrest in Belfast really precluded any socialising, such as Pam experienced
Somehow, you eventually lost contact with each other. Perhaps living just got in the way
I have recently found one of Pam’s letters sent to you from all those decades ago.
Dated April 1972. That particular year was one of the most violent in Northern Ireland.
I look back at the me, of that time when pen and paper were my tools of escapism
Long before social media and computers became as regular as day and night
I have stacks of unused writing pads and envelopes. The end of an era

Best Wishes,
The Retired Eileen

 

17/10/2024

Magic...

I love the cool feel of fluffy fallen snow
Glittering crystals gathered in mounds
Sunshine days when sunlight twinkles
Gardens full of sweetly scented flowers
Autumn has a magic recipe of its own
Toffee apples and pumpkin smoothies
Springtime opens forth with birdsong
Daffodils and freshly revived trees
Hearing a favourite song of memories
Music channels worlds of adventure
These days are filled with such positivity
Poetic words flowing as free as a river
Sometimes obstacles get in the way
Noise and mayhem clutter pathways
Those are times when life needs luck
Times to learn magic’s secret formula…

Eileen T O’Neill 10/10/2024

Choices...

Life’s journey takes us across many miles
Locations and directions near and far
Sometimes we are halted along the way
Traffic lights and incidents direct pace
Timings and turnings influence routes
At times there can be conflicts in mind
Especially when gut instinct challenges
A conundrum between a yes or a nay
What feels right for this point in time
Testing instances will arrive without fail
Having the wisdom to know good from bad
Are strangers and friends so very different
Once reality springs some hidden surprises
Long held elements of trust can be sideswiped
Pretensions as friends and foes may be aligned
Second chances are mostly precarious actions
Lived experiences know that regrets are indelible
It is advisable to take time and to choose wisely..
 
Eileen T O’Neill 19/09/2024

June 1981...

Some dates remain in mind for various reasons
Those of a personal nature more easily recalled
I remember a specific day for a scary episode
In fact, it was a terrifying event that took place
I was a nurse in a hospital outpatient’s clinic
The building was situated beside a courthouse
The city’s main prison was across the road
It was indeed a very volatile area of Belfast
That Wednesday had been as busy as any day
Late afternoon and preparing to finish work
There was a commotion outside the building
Endless bangs and uniformed people outside
It became clear that the noise was gunshots
My colleagues and I got down on the floor
It was a most intense period of absolute fear
We knew nothing about the circumstances
Gunfire followed by the screech of loud sirens
The building filled with police and soldiers
Searching and surrounding the outside area
It seemed like an eternity lying on the floor
I assumed that this might be the end of life
Petrified and nauseous I got back to my feet
We learned there had been a prison escape
Eight prisoners had escaped into parked cars
Outside the window where I had been working
A terrorist incident lost to the pages of history
It remains a day I will forever regard as my miracle
My unborn baby was also a survivor that day...

Eileen T O’Neill 15/05/2024
 

Night Sky

Between the hours of evensong and dawn’s birdsong
Curtains gradually close upon daylight’s presence 
The night sky becomes an immense inky backdrop
Twinkling stars and planets peep down from on high
There is such mystery staring into the vast night sky
Darkness is a time for shadows to dally and dance
Minds try to fathom the shifting nature of shapes
Dreamers delve under their cosy duvets to escape
Adventurers enjoy the magic of the quieter hours
Ghostly figures flit and dart from place to place
Unknowns love the freedom to occupy the night
Creative spirits easily bring night’s beauty to life…

Eileen T O’Neill 08/05/2024

Silence...

The house within its emptiness has certain sounds
Not just odd creaks and scrapes up in the rafters
More like a very lively imagination running free
As a myriad of silent tones settle around the room
It is interesting to pick up these sounds of silence
Invisibility adds its madness to the cacophony
The mantelpiece clock seems to tick even louder
You are never alone while in the presence of time
There is a movement to life though rarely noticed
During these moments it is possible to reflect
Sometimes it is fine to let the silence simply be
A presence undisturbed by the outside world for now…

Eileen T O’Neill 02/05/2024