An Island in the West

‘At the Peak’ a large painting of mine now in a private collection

Surrounded by the lull

Of the lapping amniotic salty sea


On a calm day blue green

Serene as a lullaby


In a storm she crashes

And collapses the beach defences


Triangle mountain transcends

The violent fickle pull of the tide

He manifests new pathways


Pierces the clouds of self abnegation

And affirms my right

To the light of creation


Home of the sun god Lugh

Sharp granite peak of enlightenment

Pointer to the stars



thrum of dishwasher

lunch of leftovers

many too many


and cups of tea

but in between

there are lazy hours

and books

expansive inner world

of memories

triggered by the writer’s


perception jumping

from page to herstory

my story. black and white

to colour