Monthly Archives: April 2016

Surrounded by Gorse

We grew up with the mountains behind our backs. Yellow specks of colour shone out from a blanket of green. The stone quarry in those mountains saluted down upon our town. These were the colours of our childhood scene.

We would explore those hills as children, taking off for hours at a time. Memories made amongst nature, great friends, our childhoods dreamy nature, serene.

Gorse bushes scattered colour across those mountains.
My father was drawn to them by their colour and strength. Determined one day, he took a snippet to make an Irish style garden fence.

He said the gorse would keep danger away from our home, as he smiled up at me planting those snippets that day in the ground.

Wild and strong they grew, yellow flowers on an Irish looking Cactus tree. My father was proud by how quickly they grew, without realising the hidden properties held by gorse, yet be sure the soil and the gorse both knew.

Gorse is a ancient flower remedy which they say invokes hope. In Celtic mythology it is symbolic of fertility and love too.

With dreams for his children, he protectively planted hope. As the gorse grew, love was abundant, hope flourished anew, fertility gave many presents of new life too.

We grew up surrounded by Gorse.

An Peann


Dream With You

Wrapping me in your warmth,
I feel good in your embrace.

You make me smile when I see you, sad when we have to say goodbye.

Some may say we have an unhealthy relationship, but we know the longer we spend together the better I look.

You make me happy, and promise to always be in my life. I dream with you.

I think about you throughout the day, counting the hours until we meet again.

When we can steal some hours together in daylight, you always put a smile back on my face and a spring back in my day.

You are my north, my east, my south, my slumbering rest.
My place of comfort, my beautiful bed.

An Peann


When I’m 74

When we were children, she would often sing ‘When I’m 64…’
I can still hear her singing, if I listen closely.

She sits in my kitchen now, watching us live our lives.
She sits in our living room holding her baby Grandson as we watch movies by the fire.

In my sisters kitchen, she holds her arm as the wind blows through their hair.
We talk to her there, we ask her to make things happen for us.
We say ‘please Mam just..’

We talk to her like she is there, and she is.

She is in all our homes, all our hearts.

We shared everything with our Mother, our secrets, our hopes, our fears.
We sang together in her kitchen, not to celebrate any particular occasion, we sang to share the music, the moment. All our girls, and our children, we sang our cares away.

Yesterday she would have been 74 years old not 64. I wish we could hear her sing with us again once more.

Instead, we will keep on
talking to her, singing like her, living for her.

Will you still need me, will you still feed me, when I’m 64….

Happy Birthday Mam. Xxx

An Peann


C.S Lewis

‘Courage, dear heart.’