Is Bréa

Wherever she goes
She is looking for them
Or O’something
She is enthralled by stories
She had not read yet
She is on the edge of her seat
When she knows a new book
Is about to find its place on the shelves
Of her favorite bookshop
She can’t wait to own it
And it’s by holding her breath
That she starts reading

Stories with rough beginnings
War, violence, poverty
Starvation, Contemplation of a world moving fast
Celtic Tiger revenge
And yet, something out of nowhere
That looks like, smells like
A tiny bit of hope
Turned into a smile
Joy at the corner of the eye

These stories are like life
Spreading its butterfly wings
Out of bitter days
You can create something better

Keep Going!

I woke up yesterday thinking of the date
November is full of memories
Not ones I regret
But yet just shots of life
And something we could call death

This taste of sorrow
And yet life again taking control
Pushing us on the road
The one we would like to avoid
From a distance it looks lonely
And dark and gloomy
But once we are on
We could see lights
Multicolor sparkles on the side
Colorful papers lanterns illuminating the sky
And people walking too
With dreams deceived and new ones to draw
People like us trying hard
And having faith in something big enough
To make them want to keep going

Things I miss and memories

I miss English, speaking English.

I miss my friends. I miss Ireland.

I miss walking in puddles. I miss the cold.

I miss scones and latte. I miss girl’s night out.

I miss chats. I miss writing novels in English.

I miss meeting new people.

I miss Irish music. I miss the special atmosphere of a rugby match.

I miss the green grass.

I miss the Irish sky. I miss the fish & chips.

I miss the way women say “it’s gorgeous!”

I miss dancing on ABBA.

I miss the spirit.

But I have beautiful memories playing in my mind…