All words and images © Deirdre Molloy 2006-2007 except quote:
"Life may sometimes be sad, but it's always beautiful."
Jamie Liddell
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Fall
Today I walked alone
seeing Beauty all around
but especially in the decaying flowers
going to seed gracefully in the late September sun.
black bouquets and white fluffy tufts
bunched on bleached stalks
like an army of widows turned upside-down,
some armed with brown, spiky spears.
A crunchy feast for a field mouse
ripe and ready, seeking pastures new
a pigs back, a bird's belly, a gust of wind
to shake, to scatter, to fly, to fall.
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Leap of Faith
Laid out below like an Irish flag
Are rich green and gold August fields
(an infinite series of polygons)
Topped with creamy white froth
and with a bent finger of colour
the rainbow joins the sea with the sky
Visitors stray, An Clochan Liath
Lost in translation - The Gray Stone
Somehow become Dunglow?
Held in a hollow of the land
The sea calmly faces the sky,
Freshly washed, always in these parts...
From the melancholy mist
Take refuge in the Castle of the Glen of Life
Burn turf and eat cake off Austrian delph
Out of the salty night sky leaps a shooting star
Whispering "Make a wish!" I wish...
to share loaves and fishes by firelight
to sleep by the murmuring sea
I wish my brother well
I wish for love
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August 2007
A Week of Watercolors in Ballyvaughan
Moving Landscape: Train to Galway July 2007
Images based on photos i took at aqwa aquarium near Perth
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PATTERN
frost like sparks
and waves like flames
licking white foam tops
the restless sea
clouds riding the breeze
rippling wind the gum leaves
sea anemones shaking in the swell.
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SEA
hot waves of air pounding velvety
bass drums into your heart
and your brain and your blood
the crowd goes wild sharing
love and excitement amongst
sexy, shiny strangers
heavy, warm bass making hips shake
skipping breaks like hand claps and we
are waving not drowning
in a sea of music
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One Two Four Five
Sashay, shimmy, segway
Shake, shake it baby
Could it be a Cucaracha?
Perhaps a Cuban or a Coca Cola
or a Cha Cha Cha?
Step, spin, chica
El hombre manda!
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this accumulation of dust
mutations of gases through fire to ash
routine of the sun
rings on the trees
wrinkling of bark
ceasless tides of blood
constant yet new
reminders of
this accumulation of dust
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