bahern7

  When on my hand  Without a sound The butterfly walked around and round, I gazed into the bushes by And caught the gleam In Henrietta's eye. © Brian Ahern 2025

When you meet me in the city In the famous square, You always look so pretty  Just standing there  That my tongue gets tied  And my heart takes a leap With a feeling inside that's so strong and deep. You always put me at my ease With your style and your grace, But it's hard to tell your thoughts From the look upon your face, When you meet me in the city In the famous square, To spend a little time with me I thank the Lord in prayer. When we walk beneath the trees And talk as friend to friend, Something in the breeze Tells me that this should never end, When you meet me in the city In the famous square, I'm so happy in your company I want to scream it everywhere. © Brian Ahern 2009

 

 

A chara, To tip my hat to Gadsby, kindly find this short composition which sticks to a similar condition Mr. Wright put on his own writing in his famous book; a lipogram if I may. For inspiration I cast my mind back to Branton Hills. This is my upshot or conclusion, call it what you will, I only ask that you furnish it with good scrutiny and put it in your august organ. Yours faithfully, BA

 Mish, My final shot goeth like this: a cold coming I had of it this morning lugging my corpus to the desk. A local access road was closed in D15 and I was forced to trudge through a barren field before I could rejoin civilisation and proceed to Dublin’s heart. The field was rocky and frozen and populated by a large flock of Stymphalian birds who tracked my steps with dagger glares. At least I think they were Stymphalian birds though they may have been literary critics. The whole experience left me quite shaken by the time I entered the Ship Street gate of an Caisleán. Luckily, when I did, I came upon a most pulchritudinous sight that instantly lightened my mood. A female figure was sitting on the curbside eating fish from a tin with one hand and reading from the bible with the other. Her hair was long and golden, the face and overall form divine, and she seemed to me to be an angel (albeit of the fallen variety). Or, if not fallen, then certainly flying too close to the ground. Sh...