PoetryOfPlace
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Front room fire
A cozy evening is shared by the fire, as love and warmth fill the home. Continue reading
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A hymn about Grace in humble things — “In quiet parks at break of day” (CM)
The hymn reflects on discovering God’s presence in everyday moments, emphasizing the beauty of ordinary experiences that reveal grace and the gradual manifestation of the Kingdom of God. Continue reading
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The Cupboard Apparition
I searched the house from room to room,My heart a tightening thread;For Richard, steadfast tabby guard,Had vanished from his stead.I called his name through shadowed halls,Checked every chair and beam;For only Niamh would play at hide—For Richard, such a dream.Yet still no whisker met my sight,No sentinel in place;Just silence where his watchful eyesWould guard… Continue reading
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Andrew, this is you.
Some love stories are written in grand gestures. Ours has been written in endurance. This Valentine’s Day, I honour fifteen years of partnership with Andrew—and ten years of civil marriage later this year—not because the dates fall now, but because love that has lived this much deserves to be named whenever the heart nudges. Our… Continue reading
AnglicanBenedictine, Christianity, ChronicIllness, ChronicIllnessCommunity, CompassionInCare, Contemplation, Dialysis, DialysisLife, DialysisSpirituality, EmbodiedPrayer, Faith, FaithInAction, FaithInTheEveryday, FindingConnection, health, HeldInLove, LGBTQStories, life, LiveWithADisability, NDP, NDP-0009, NeuroDivine, Poetry, PoetryOfPlace, QueerIrishVoices, QueerLove, QuietCourage, QuietMoments, Reverence, SacredRoutine, SacredSpaces, Sanctity, SmallMercies, Spirituality, SpiritualJourney, SpiritualReflection -
Stubborn Grace
A train missed due to a slight delay prompts contemplation of fate and the value of waiting. Continue reading
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Two Sentinels.
Brown Tabby I take my post beside his chair,moon silver on his hair;the window breathes a colder air—I taste it, sharp and spare.He shifts beneath the blanket’s weight,the cough begins to climb;I fix my eyes upon the darkand measure out the time. White Cat I rest beneath his blue-bright crown,lamplight along his face;his breathing lifts… Continue reading
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Stop. Start. Stay.
A hymn capturing the beauty of life’s detours, celebrating gentleness and divine companionship. Continue reading
Autism, AutisticFaith, bible, Christianity, ChurchOfIreland, Contemplation, Faith, FaithInAction, FaithInTheEveryday, god, Hymnody, InclusiveChurch, IrishAnglicanVoice, IrishHymnody, IrishSpirituality, jesus, LiturgicalReflection, NeurodivergentFaith, NeurodivergentTheology, NeuroDivine, NewHymn, NewHymns, NewSong, Poetry, PoetryOfPlace, Prayer, QuietMoments, SacredSpaces, Spirituality -
Incense. Whisper. Hope. A hymn inspired by Psalm 141. “O Christ receive our evening prayer” (DLM).
This hymn is inspired by Psalm 141, the Church’s ancient evening prayer: “Let my prayer rise before you like incense.” Set in the landscape of Clonmacnoise, it joins the psalmist’s cry to the Shannon’s air and the long vigil of those who prayed on these stones before us. As night gathers, it asks Christ to… Continue reading
Christianity, ChurchOfIreland, Clonmacnoise, Contemplation, Faith, FaithAndHistory, FaithInTheEveryday, Hymnody, IrishAnglicanVoice, IrishHymnody, IrishSpirituality, MonasticWisdom, NeuroDivine, NewHymn, NewHymns, NewSong, Pilgrimage, Poetry, PoetryOfPlace, Prayer, Psalm 141, QuietMoments, SacredSpaces, ScriptureAndStillness, Spirituality, TheLostCity -
The Gentle Way
A gentle love provides peace, strength, and guidance, embracing family, pets, and faith daily. Continue reading
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Night Watch
The poem reflects a caregiver’s love and the comforting presence of cats during a loved one’s illness. Continue reading
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Grace. Place. Presence. A new hymn celebrating St Mel of Ardagh “O God, Whose grace once walked this land” (CM)
The hymn reflects St Mel’s spiritual journey, emphasizing faith rooted in landscape and community. Continue reading
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Succession. Loss. Continuity.
Accession Day’s significance changed with the new reign, altering personal and national memories. Continue reading
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Lines. Rise. Twice.
The author reflects on shared expressions of grief, emphasizing connection and authenticity in poetry. Continue reading
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Held in the humming
A poem expressing the medical treatment I experience. The morning hums its fragile tune,the clinic lights grow bright;on Monday, Wednesday, Friday dawnsI take my steady rite.The lines connect with practiced care,the blood begins its round;a pilgrim held by humming pumps,yet rooted in this ground.Twice yearly comes the Dublin trip,a check that keeps me true;HIV’s a… Continue reading
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God’s Whisper Everywhere
A short poem in celebration of God’s whisper written during a restless night. Continue reading
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Platform Wait
The platform wind cuts through my coat, My patience wears too thin;Two hours between each wretched train— What state are we all in?A bank-day hush lies on the tracks, The cold seeps through my bones;The loudspeaker stays deathly mute, Ignoring all my groans.I pace the boards, I stamp my feet, I mutter at the sky;So who designed this dismal plan And… Continue reading
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Soft. Anchor. Steadfast.
Otto sits gently by my side,Grey Belfast hoodie wrapped with pride;A quiet friend who does not speak,Yet offers calm when days feel bleak.His soft paws rest within my own,A steadying weight I’ve always known;He comes to dialysis with me too,And helps me face what I must do.When noise or brightness starts to swell,He anchors me… Continue reading
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Umbrellas. Flowers. Puddle.
The rain beats softly on the glass;the ward keeps steady time.A holiday that will not pausefor weather, will, or rhyme.Coats drip in corners, umbrellas closelike flowers bruised by rain.The nurses move with gentle poisethrough hours long and plain.Your blood flows out, your blood flows in—a tide you cannot sway.Yet kindness holds you, calm and thin,through… Continue reading
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Mary. Mother. Thanksgiving.
On my mum’s 80th birthday, I’m sharing the hymn her life inspired. I hope to give it voice at her celebration in Ballymena on Saturday — throat permitting. Some words wait years to be spoken, and sometimes love speaks most clearly when the voice is fragile. Continue reading
