The world seemed clear. The questions started later in life or when we went to the cities and were asked to convert and change our language to English, sometimes politely sometimes not so much. We got used to the requests, ‘can you please say that in English?’ or the statements ‘We speak English in here’ or ‘I’m afraid we don’t speak that language here’.
Today, on our morning swim together.
I watch her dive, hair streaming,
at home among the waves…
You won’t find these in the bush.
Thistles, nettles, tumbleweed,
three-cornered jacks, horehound,
The winner of the Percy French Prize for Witty Verse.
The only 1916 rebel to be given a state funeral
Poems in Irish by Colin Ryan.
Irish Language poems by Colin Ryan
But very definitely single beds…
How much of Ned is in the coffin?
A poet’s tribute to her father, a two literary forebears ….
Public Debate: ‘Is it time for a Republic of Australia?’