Dragonflowers

Purples

Basking in the Sun

River, West Cork

Old Gnarled Tree

Free Tibet (Florence Protest April 2008)

The Free Tibet protest in Florence last April (2008) reworked for a friend's article on the subject.

Stone Wall

My photo as Cover Art

I've recently co-published a collection of poetry Pagan Paeans - it's the first anthology of the PPP. While my co-editor Simone L A Hogan worked wonders on the formatting the covers fell to me.

I used a photo I took in Orkney, in 2007 of the Ring Of Brodgar stone circle. Then chopped and changed until it fitted the "look" we wanted for the cover - I think the end result was good.

The anthology is now on sale at Cafepress, or directly from us (Ireland and UK) All proceeds go to keeping the PPP online and provide a fund for competitions etc. The PPP publishes poetry, prose, shortstories and journals from authors whose viewpoint is non-conformist spiritually and/or intellectually.

Throw the Ball, Throw the ball!

Along came a Spider

First Holy Communion

Flutterby

For I have looked upon the face of god....

Cat in Montecatini Alto

I can't believe it's over a year since our honeymoon...we started in Montecatini Terme, a spa town in Tuscany and spent many a happy hour up the mountain in the old town Montecatini Alto. On one of our wanders we encountered this fat black cat sunning himself and watching the tourists.

Temple

More Gimping

Spring Magic Gimped

I finally got to sit down last week and really explore Gimp. A friend of mine did a wonderful photo of her husband and kid in the woods, in black and white with only the little man's blue coat picked out in colour. I was both impressed and jealous so I set myself a task (results above) and went through it step by step until I managed it. Delighted with myself :) I also realised there's a lot more going on with Gimp than I imagined; so I am going to have a lot of fun exploring it.

Spring magic # 2

Happy Bealtine

Well Baal is with us once more and the Summer is upon us.

'Bealtine'



The fires were extinguished at dusk;

doused, dampened, across the

belly of the land.

The last inspiration of twilight,

fading with the dying rays of sun

denying the existence of hope.



The rushlights and candles

standing in brown pots

snuffed out with ruthless decision.

Breathless and wanton

She welcomes the dark

finding perfect acceptance.


A rapidness, daringness, derangement

of wood on skinfulness, sinful the way

they dance against the gathering night.

Cool breath of death

against overheated limbs

brushing against mountain ranges.


Hidden the contours of valley and hill

From the eyes of greed and envy

And on they dance still, heavy with desire

Pausing with expectations

refusing extolments of false praise

insisting on the truth of cruelty.



Til light streaks and nudity is warmed

By the rising sun, colour restored

In a land overlooked

The mid-time, the time of forgetting

The removal of knowledge

The trampling of self.



Til light steaks and reawakens

In a land unobserved, the tumultuous waters

Unaltered in course by the reappearance of light.

And the union of dark and lucid

Galvanizes the sleeping soul

of rush bordered lake and pebbled beach



And the call of the curlew opens up

The soft turf and heather of the marshy

straights, straddling the west

slight lines of silver traverse

the sleeping Eriu, the stretchmarks

of rebirth.



The Fires are relit at dawn, reborn

with tongues of merriment

sending messages across the face of god.

Rivers of silver this time,

free-flowing, pushing the days out

So that evening meets dawn.

Geraldine Moorkens Byrne