The Quest

The Quest

A wheel of fortune's

Circle trace

The reason why

Made subject to

This place,

The ages spent

Along the way.

The empires

Crumbling into dust

Their form to

Disarray.

The congregations

Winding down

Past columns wound

Soul purpose

To their quest.

While shadows

Danced

To covens round

And rule of thumb

Their guest

Made light of it,

And played till

You know everything.

Photograph: Bridge/The Ramparts

Navan. Spring 2008.

Discovery

A few poems about discovery

and such things?

Discovery

Damn these maps

their safe harbours.

This watch for yesterday.

Quartered and halved

as the wind dictates.

All talk these

arguements they plot.

Like hungry ghosts

that pitch and roll

their contradictions,

till they fall off

the earth.

They will lose

themselves.

Here be Dragons!

Photograph: The sea at Spanish Point.

Co. Clare. 1996.