Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category

Masterclass   Leave a comment

 

 

God bless my ass

He could give a masterclass

In stubbornness

And being obnoxious

His behaviour has become

Totally atrocious

How to be a pain in the arse

Would be his specific masterclass

How not to follow instruction

And cause the ultimate destruction

That ass has a mind of its own

It’s a skill you too could hone

If you opt to follow in his path

And think you’re having a laugh

And when at last

You’ve mastered the class

Know too that you are an ass.

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Posted November 19, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

Interlude   Leave a comment

Margery Doran slipped down the side path of the empty Victorian house. At the bottom of the garden she pushed the loose board in the wooden fence that ran along the back of the imposing houses in Coronation Gardens. It had been much easier to get through the fence sixty years ago she thought, as she struggled to stand up on the other side.

Margery stood in what once was a grand park with tennis courts, tree-lined pathways and a band-stand. Now it was an over-grown jungle that nature had reclaimed for itself. It was a haven for wild flora and fauna.

As she made her way through the thick undergrowth to the rusty shell of the old band-stand Margery heard music. Maybe someone had a radio playing somewhere she reasoned. But before she reached the band-stand the music stopped. A few minutes later Margery saw a figure pass through the trees in front of her. It was a man with a peaked cap decorated with gold braid, and a long coat with big brass buttons that glinted in the dying sun of the early September evening. He suddenly turned and spotted her… stared for a minute and called her name. He knew her.

She knew him too. It was Percy Thwaite who had once lived in the empty house she had just come from. But Percy had been about seventy years of age when she had been a child. How was this possible… was it a ghost? Margery began to run back to the fence, checking behind her to see if Percy was following.

Some workmen found Margery about a week later when they came to clear the park for the council.  Her body was taken away, but her spirit was happily dancing to the music Percy was conducting.

 

Posted November 19, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

Fatal Encounter   Leave a comment

“Danny why did you do it?  What hold does she have over you?”  Fidelma shouted as she shook her brother. But Danny just groaned. She turned him over and started CPR on him. After a few minutes Danny made a spluttering noise and Fidelma smartly turned him over into the recovery position. He vomited onto the carpet and gasped. After phoning the emergency services, Fidelma filled a bowl with hot soapy water.  Carefully wiping his face, she attended to the carpet with a dishcloth. Within minutes the ambulance crew arrived, assessed her brother, placed him in the ambulance, and were speeding away to the hospital. Fidelma locked the apartment and sat into her red Mini. She put her head down on the steering wheel and sobbed.

Driving to the hospital she thought of that fateful day she had introduced her brother to Isla. Isla had been someone Fidelma had vaguely known at college, and who now, by coincidence, was working with her in the same office.  Because Fidelma hadn’t a boyfriend at the time, she had asked Danny to accompany her to the office Christmas party, and when Danny met Isla, his eyes lit up and he stumbled over his words in an awkward effort at small talk. Fidelma had to admit that Isla was stunning, like a young Cher, her voice low and mysterious and she had the movements of a cat. Danny was mesmerized.

It wasn’t long before Isla and Danny were a couple. Spellbound, Danny would have done anything for her. Knowing this, Isla took full advantage of him. She made him leave the job he loved to take up a better paid position. She wanted the right house, the right car, all the accessories of the life-style to which she aspired. Danny tried to please her but Isla grew annoyed with his continual yawning and bored expression at the lavish parties they attended. She began to look elsewhere for a bit of excitement.

Isla started hanging out with celebrity DJ Mouldy Grimaldi and took up his habit of snorting cocaine. But before long she reached a point where her demands for the drug outstripped Grimaldi’s ability to accommodate her, and she turned to buying it in the street.

Things went downhill for Isla at work and before long she got the sack. Still Danny stood by her, getting her into an expensive clinic and working around the clock to afford the fees. But Isla seemed to be making progress and was even pleasant to Danny when he came to visit her. But every time Danny asked Dr Merkel when Isla would be ready to come home, the doctor was very evasive and wouldn’t give a definite date.

Yesterday Danny had decided to go in a bit earlier than usual to visit Isla as for once he had a bit of time to spare. As he walked along the corridor to Isla’s private room he could hear her distinctive deep throaty laugh. It was coming from Dr Merkel’s office. The door of the office had been left slightly ajar and Danny saw enough to know this wasn’t an appropriate doctor/patient relationship. He had left a message on Fidelma’s phone but Fidelma hadn’t heard it until the following morning.  When she found Danny, there was an empty tablet bottle on the table beside his chair.

Now, at the hospital, she anxiously awaited news of him. Not long after arriving, the door to the waiting area opened and she saw the doctor, his face bearing the look of one wishing for all the world he was elsewhere. Fidelma screamed. The doctor felt that uselessness at the core of his being that always accompanied this part of his duty. When his patient’s sister had settled a bit he felt encouraged to suggest she join Danny’s partner and Dr Jane Merkel in the family room. “Why?” asked Fidelma. “They killed him. Let them celebrate in peace.” She turned and walked towards the exit.

Posted September 27, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

Cultivating Culture   1 comment

Protect, nourish, and nurture a culture

To let it thrive and grow

Do not stick rigidly to rules and traditions

Because it has always been so.

Given the right conditions and care

Arts and ideas flow

Restricting by custom and social mores

Shouts out, “No No No!”

 

Culture is the manifestation of people’s

Beliefs, dreams and history

Told, sang, created, and expressed

And regarded collectively

We should respect each other’s cultures

And take pride in our own

But not be blind to that which holds back

Or free expression has flown

 

So go forth and enjoy your culture

And be open to others too

Take what is best and beautiful

And see what you can do

To develop and embellish it

Keeping what’s pure within

Capture the very essence

Giving new life to what has been.

Posted September 27, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

Lady of the House   Leave a comment

A woman of renown
From Edgesworthstown
A life of work and a work of life
Educated, celebrated
Singular in thought
No-one’s wife
Father’s daughter
He her mentor
Equal in time of inequality
Mixes socially
With high and lowly
Strong views on society
Maria Edgesworth
Woman of high birth
Living her art in the art of living
Her Anglo-Irish experience
Giving an inward sense
Of socio-cultural giving

Posted June 12, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

Lady of the House   Leave a comment

Maria Edgeworth (1 January 1768 – 22 May 1849) was a prolific Anglo-Irish writer of adults’ and children’s literature. She was one of the first realist writers in children’s literature and was a significant figure in the evolution of the novel in Europe.[2] She held advanced views, for a woman of her time, on estate management, politics and education, and corresponded with some of the leading literary and economic writers, including Sir Walter Scott and David Ricardo. ( from Wikipaedia)

 

A woman of renown
From Edgesworthstown
A life of work and a work of life
Educated, celebrated
Singular in thought
No-one’s wife
Father’s daughter
He her mentor
Equal in time of inequality
Mixes socially
With high and lowly
Strong views on society
Maria Edgesworth
Woman of high birth
Living her art in the art of living
Her Anglo-Irish experience
Giving an inward sense
Of socio-cultural giving

Posted June 12, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized

Flying Companion   Leave a comment

I made myself comfortable

For the long-haul flight

I knew I would be travelling

Through day and through night

I had just closed my eyes

When to my surprise

My reverie was broken

By big mournful sighs.

The woman beside me

Let out a high-pitched sound

Grabbing attention

From those all around.

Especially as I’m sure she knew

From the anxious, attentive

New Zealand crew.

She screamed out

Her fear of flight

And they asked me to

Help the woman’s plight.

They plied her with tablets

Coffee and drink

And she talked and talked

And my heart did sink.

It was all about herself

Her dramas, her life

But just when I was ready

To lunge with my knife

All went quiet

Except a slight snore

From a drugged-up sleep

From the woman next door.

Posted April 13, 2017 by eileenmoynihan in Uncategorized