Angela Byrne – Three poems

gayAngela Byrne was born in Dublin.   Her training includes  City and Guilds Printing, Guildford College of Technology, Surrey, UK.  She worked with The Pauper’s Press Printing Cooperative, in the East Oxford Community Workshops, Oxford, UK.  In 1987 she set up Pirateproductions, Design and Printing.  Angela returned to Ireland 1997 to settle in Conamara.  Currently, she is working on a number of projects locally including painting signs and windows for Festive days and Murals in private houses; has collaborated in a number of projects with Galway Women in Media & Entertainment.  Her Paintings and Prints have been exhibited locally and she has recently held a solo exhibition Taispeántas Pictiúr, Priontaí, Tigh an Táilliúra, An Cheathrú Rua.  


At the edges

There’s a rainbow over that field you left,
the one that trickles down to the sea,
the cattle have gone,
you’r not climbing over the walls to get a closer look
or maybe from a distance.
August is still summer, almost
I dip my toes in, chance a paddle
among the dead jelly fish.
blown in with the storm last night
scattered at the edges of the tra.


The chair

Of solid construction
lovingly hand crafted,
how many bottoms
dropped down on to it,
to pause for tea
perhaps a fine meal.

A child’s favorite to climb on
a make do ladder,
it’s wooden beginnings not disguised,
even with layers of paint,
enough curve in the batons
that says this maker took the trouble
to put design into robust functionality.

Van Gogh would of happily painted this chair,
pausing to place it next to a table
with sunflowers on.


Whatever you say, say nothing . . .
“write for the joy of it write for the lust . . . Seamus Heaney”

Uprooting nettles,
a reclaim the garden day
the penitents whip,
there is all talk of war
reformists, officials and provisionals,
at least the Baird
was not a warmongering general,
we go planting trees because
there is all talk of optimism.


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