Poems by Mary Egan Campbell

Revolution

It starts as just a tremor

A little nagging itch

A feeling of slight irritation

From which we cannot switch

And then the mind engages

Into full-on Sherlock Holmes

No longer passing off the twinge

With social conscious poems

Seeking out the hidden truth

To share with all mankind

No longer waiting for a prompt

We’ll seek until we find

The words come out of nowhere

Or perhaps were there all along

A cry for help acknowledged

When our guts perceive a wrong

The lines become like sabres

The lyricism more sharp

Activating a call to action

Across a global map

We will not remain neutral

Our time for romanticism past

We will rise up from our pages

Free to utilise our verse at last

For it’s in storytelling and rhyme

That history warns and scolds

Teaches the world what went before

The message must be retold

And when the audience listens

Truly hears and heeds the words

The poet, the writer become fighters too

Our pens mightier than any sword

Under a Cherry Tree

Not a sound but the playful canopy of pink

Overhead

And in my head

Softly kissing petals instead

Of the voices I dread

Mostly mine, they evaporate

In this place

This Hallowed space

Of scented breeze and busy bees

So safe

So far away

From life and strife and tight chest

Endless stress

So I sit with it, a perfect fit

I co-exist

With quiet and a riot of dancing blooms

In this garden room

Infused with pretty pink of Spring

The hope it brings

Under a cherry tree

Eclipse

Rain and cloud have enveloped the morning

Dull and wet, cold and dreary

No sign of Spring outside

A partial solar eclipse nowhere to be seen

I feel eclipsed inside, relegated to the shadows

Unseen, unrecognised in my own home

Apparently I do nothing

All the while our lives are calm and organised, laundry and rooms clean

But if I rant and shout and defend my existence

That will ripple the waters

We will return to those years of toxic warfare and discontent

So I must bite my lip, remain eclipsed

Outshone by spouse and offspring,

No match for my husband’s success

Taking the verbal blows on the chin as if they don’t hurt

The butt of jokes I find no humour in.

Mary Egan Campbell is a member of Inklings Writing Group who meets on Tuesdays at 11am, also on Wednesdays at 7.30pm in the Annebrook House Hotel. Mullingar. All aspiring and fun writers are welcome.