Poems by Brendan Martin
Evolve
Breathe in.
Breathe out,
on your isolated plain;
your soul was never yours to keep,
so look for it again.
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Focus, focus,
on recovering your wealth;
for all you had, you never had,
as rich as childhood health.
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Slowly, slowly,
let your troubled mind unbend;
in each imagined enemy,
can be disguised, a friend.
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Hold on, hold on,
no need to move so fast,
the future is tomorrow,
but first release the past.
Winnifred the Turkey
I’m having Winnifred for dinner,
though she doesn’t know it yet;
Winnifred is a turkey,
and I’ve had her as a pet;
and though I’ve grown fond of her,
especially of late,
she’s big and really healthy,
she’d look lovely on a plate.
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Her feathers look amazing,
but I prefer what’s underneath;
I’m very fond of feathers,
but I’m fonder still of meat; -
and as it’s nearly dinner time,
and there’s nothing on the shelf,
I’m having Winnifred for dinner,
as a present to myself.
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She’s noisier than all the rest,
She’s oh so very loud.
To me that makes Winnifred
stand out from the crowd.
She’s rarely ever happy,
downright nasty, some might say;
but Winnifred’s a turkey,
and her behaviour is okay.
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So I’m having Winnifred for dinner,
because it’s time I had a treat;
and I fancy having turkey,
with cranberry sauce to eat;
I know I’ll miss old Winnifred,
and I’m sure that she’ll miss me;
but I’m having her for dinner,
and what’s left, I’ll have for tea!
A Newborn Lullaby
Why are you crying,
Dear little baby;
That’s only the wind
That you hear outside;
It may have scared you,
But it will not hurt you;
You are quite safe,
We heard when you cried.
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Please don’t be crying,
Dear little baby;
Everyone else; is
Sleeping as well;
We are beside you,
Trying to calm you,
What’s on your mind,
Is there something to tell?
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Something is wrong,
Dear little baby;
You are behaving,
silently good;
Oh no! you are sleeping
While we are freezing,
We would go back
to bed if we could;
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But we have to get up now,
Dear little baby;
While you can continue
to sleep like a log;
And if tonight,
is sleepless like last night,
Then, Dear little baby,
You’ll sleep with the dog.
Brendan Martin is a member of Inklings Writing Group, who meet on Tuesdays at 11am in the Annebrook House Hotel. Mullingar. Visitors Welcome.