dwireland

Once upon a Christmas evening, as the tinsel and baubles caught the flickering light from the log fire, the humans dozed in their armchair, festively bloated. All except for one little girl who…

Wasting time, we rush towards death.

Once upon a time, in a world which seemed to be a simpler place and when happiness was more than a dream of the disillusioned, a young child watched as an old man carved a piece of wood.

I can see them moving.

They may think they are hidden by the woodland but without the greenery for cover on the trees they aren’t camouflaged too well. They dart from one hiding place to a…

Mud anchored boots to the trench. One hand gripped the ladder tightly, the other his rifle.
Rain beat the steel helmet, cascading in front of his eyes.
Across cratered fields shells crashed…

A photo, a clue, a journey.

lust and loss.

Sitting on the riverside,
The line cast out,
Slowly drifting downstream,
Day drifts into evening.

Standing at the station,
The train delayed,
Briefcase bulging with papers,
Week drifts…

Has the ink run dry?
If not, why
Does the pen not write?
What reasons to cite
For a sudden lack of notions,
Thoughts lost in the commotions
Of the superhighway that’s the mind?
Or will t…