Yeats House in Gort, Co Galway, Ireland.
For 14 glorious months I wallowed in the ‘Cradle of Storytelling’ Ireland.
Every Wednesday I attended a workshop at the Munster Literature Centre with the literati of the Cork Writing Scene which we’d break with a lunch at the local pub.
MLC Literati
A recent prompt from the Australian Poetry Centre inspired this epitaph for Gregory O’Donoghue whose brain held so much wisdom and knowledge, who generously critiqued and encouraged devoid of discrimination and I thank him.
Forde’s Pub, Cork
Epitaph for Gregory O’Donoghue
Seasoned, some will remember boozy lunches,
Tuna sandwiches peppered with slurred words
plated on sliced lettuce arranged ‘just so’…
Guinness frothed just right, creamy with subtext.
–
An Irish summer warm with purpose shared
eloquently with a visiting Australian at exclusive
Wednesday morning workshops, obstinately
overseen each week, by a recalcitrant at MLC.
–
Since his silence, reverence is a poetry prize
keeping his name associated with his life love.
His canon forever in the library and his portrait,
eyeing the new wave with his silent critiques.
–
This writer will remember clever poetic reviews,
evaluating layers of old knowledge like a river
flowing effortlessly from the master to his student
and inspiration needing a break, at Forde’s pub.
–
Frances Macaulay Forde © 2013
Text & Photos are Copyrighted: You are welcome to share what’s written here so long as the appropriate credit (my full name) is applied. Also ( as a courtesy) it would be good to know where and when my content is shared. Thanks. Frances.
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