Swimming with Dolphins

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SWIMMING WITH DOLPHINS

3

TOMMY MURRAY

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v

Belfast

Lapwing

SWIMMING WITH DOLPHINS

�

TOMMY MURRAY

�

Belfast

LAPWING

First Published by Lapwing Publications

c/o 1, Ballysillan Drive

Belfast BT14 8HQ

[email protected]

http://www.freewebs.com/lapwingpoetry/

Copyright © Tommy Murray 2012

All rights reserved

The author has asserted her/his right under Section 77

of the Copyright, Design and Patents Act 1988

to be identified as the author of this work.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data.

A catalogue record for this book is available from

the British Library.

Since before 1632

The Greig sept of the MacGregor Clan

Has been printing and binding books

Lapwing Publications are printed at Kestrel Print

Unit 1, Spectrum Centre

Shankill Road Belfast BT13 3AA

028 90 319211

E:[email protected]

Hand-bound in Belfast at the Winepress

Set in Aldine 721 BT

ISBN 978-1-907276-96-5

ii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Acknowledgement is due to the editors of the followingpublications in which some of these poems have also appeared;Fortnight, Riverine, Stroan, The Drumlin, Crannog, Revival, Ropes,

NUI Galway, The Stony Thursday Book, Riposte, The Moth,The Edgeworth Papers.

iii

CONTENTS

38Swallows . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

37Stone Walls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

36Spanish Point . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

35Sketching a Scots Pine . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

34Priming the Pump . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

33Outcast . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

32Mixed Marriage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

31Mass Path . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

30Lemming . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

29Lean-to . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

28Landscape . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

27Hotspell . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

26High Stool . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

25Handyman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

24Goose Girl . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

23Gnome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

22February . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

21Dolphins . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

20Departed . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

19Cuckoo . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

18Crow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

17Cow Parsley . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

16Cliff-hangers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

15Cemetery Sunday . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

14Camel . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

13Butterfly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

12Breaking Up . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

11Boyne Water . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

10Ben Sherman . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

9Album . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

8Afterbloom . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

7A Sparrow Falls . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

iv

49Wren . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

48Willow Pattern . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

47Wheelbarrow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

46Wagtail . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

45Van Winkle’s Return . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

44Topiary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

43The Yeti . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

42The Rosary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

41The Old Forge . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

40The New English Teacher . . . . . . . . . . . . .

39Marchioness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

v

A SPARROW FALLS

You couldn’t have knownThat your fall from graceWould set alarm bells ringingAcross the universeThat the echo would bounce From planet to planetFrom field to fieldTree to tree

That even beforeYou hit the groundPlans were being redrawnBlueprints changedAnd from that moment on And a new order would ensue

And on morningsWhen the feathery windMight send a shiver along The craning furlongs Of cow parsley, evenings When dusk might threaten To throw a shadowOver the hedgerowsYour fall would be all the talk

Tommy Murray

7

AFTERBLOOM

A slipper of bleached rose blossomGlazed to the wet pavementOutside your window

Your only legacy, reminderThat you once reeked of royaltyAnd old world charm

Smacked of golden dawnsAnd crimson sunsets, posedImmaculate in emulsion colours

A handful of limp petalsLeft behind on the dank tarmacYour final will and testament.

Swimming with Dolphins

8

ALBUM

Here, my life blooms in brown plasticSeedling Shoot Sunflower, smiles Sprinkled like blossoms In a blackthorn hedge

Nettles, wreaths and roses tooFestooned in timeCultivated posesSeptember in my prime

Seconds snatched from yesterdayAnd pressed like petalsBetween the dog eared pagesOf my shuttered life

Tommy Murray

9

BEN SHERMAN

The rules are simpleNo time-outs or tea breaksTrial runsRehearsalsTapes to breast or goals to score

Just the soulless challengeOf a crumpled hunkOf polyester and cottonAerobically smoothingCreases and foldsSkimming the seamsAnd jostling the collarSide-stepping buttonsColliding with cuffs

Then the sleevesThe ultimate exercise in plain sailingMechanical strokes And meticulously challenging Side swipes


10

BOYNE WATER

When ever the talkTurns to waterWe will remember youOldbridgeSixteen ninety threeAnd all that andThe mere mention of rivermistWould be enough to conjure up visionsOf passage graves, castlesMonasteries and mansionsA splash of moorhen In the reed beds, the callOf a distant corncrakeA necklaceOf half submerged stepping stonesThe chatter of the ripplesYour talk enthrals meYour stories of endless summer daysCellophane poolsWhere the sun never setSkimming stones from bank to bankLearning to swim with a bundle of rushesStories too of paper boatsLaunched unceremoniouslyOnly to run agroundYards into their maiden voyage

Tommy Murray

11

BREAKING UP

A mural of cracksWhispers across fresh plasterwork

Capillaried, like riversOn a continental wall map

You take a finger, traceCanyons and gorges, days of debris and dust

Nights when rekindled embersFlickered briefly, freeze

In the chill of a nonchalant glanceStill you hang in there, hoping

Wanting to catch each falling slate, winceAs the first stabs of daylight

Plunge through the rafters, even thenPlace buckets to catch the drops


12

BUTTERFLY

It isn’t easyTrying to make senseOf these impromptuLittle sketches

And I need more Than a fleeting glimpseTo appreciate the subtlyOf these ostentatious moments

Unless you’re trying to tell meThat I tooMight one dayEmerge from the darkness

That I too Would have my Twenty seconds of summerAnd walk in a worldBeyond my wildest dreams

Tommy Murray

13

CAMEL

Stare me down if you mustWith your ageless dreams, rhythmsOars dipping to drumbeat, caravans

Inching across the horizonBut tell me Did you doze off too?When Scheherazade lulled

The insomniac Harun Or eavesdrop on The small talk of Kings bearing giftsAnd you surely must have blushed

When Salome dancedOr blinked in unbeliefAt the grave of Lazarus

Still, you had your fifteen minutesTethered to a dog wood, perhaps On the slopes of Calvary

And you could hardly Have remained impassive When they nailed his hands and feet


14

CEMETERY SUNDAY

There was a certain reassuranceIn the sudden sprouting of umbrellasHalf way through the ceremonyNoticeably

From The Bank That Likes To Say YesEmblazoned in blueScottish WidowsIn mandatory blackPrize Bonds Making That Dream Come True

To my left, The Bank of a LifetimeSavings, Pensions and MortgagesWhile three graves downThe Credit UnionCurrent Rate 7.2

Oh yes, they’re all hereCoaxing cajoling In an acre of huddles and conferencesFixed Rate BorrowingDay to Day Banking Bank Accounts at a GlanceAnd of course, Personal Loans Online

Tommy Murray

15

CLIFF-HANGERS

Tipi couldn’t have knownWhat she was letting herself in forThe clans, the cliques the coteriesThe outrageous behaviourAssassins all, I saySerial killers

And who’s for murder, she might have askedOr matricideEven thuggeryThievery too

As for promiscuity And polygamyAnd adult homosexual couplingsThese too

And the last thing She would have thought was gang rape

Oh yes, it was all out there Just a cliff awayIn a Hitchcockian swirlOf screaming gulls and guillemots


16

COW PARSLEY

Rather, they arriveUnannouncedSlipping through the seasonIn furlong after furlongOf little cliques and coteriesThe ubiquitous nuances of summerReaching outTouchingStanding ovation Mexican waveCraning to catch a glimpse of them selves

Tommy Murray

17

CROW

It’s a blacker than black world, oursA first up best dressed world Where compassion is a dried up river bedAnd the white bones of virtue Have been picked clean

So we live for the day, siftThrough the charcoal and cindersThe dust bowl of our dreamsWe bicker and bag snatchWash our dirty linen Centre stage


18

CUCKOO

Your flight was delayedStorms in the bayTurbulence

As if you needed excuses, or That summer could be held without youYou nearly didn’t make it though

Waiting until the last vestigeOf hardshipHad been licked clean

The last leaf in place, beforeAnnouncing your arrivalPenetrating the heat haze

With those sweet talking tonesThat manipulate timeAnd mark off calendars

Tommy Murray

19

DEPARTED

Even the streets paid tributeThe day they carried you outMute as a fiddle in a varnished case

Weren’t you the great one for the musicThey whisperedWeren’t you the one that could turn a tune

Wet streets, windswept streets, streetsThat listened to e very tune but yoursStreets that ignored your every note

The sharps and flats of conversationThe bobs and trebles of tittle tattleSmall talk

Streets where your best piecesWere as snowflakes on a wet pavementCherry blossoms in a storm

Now you have suddenly become a celebrityA crowd pullerThey listen spellbound, applauding


20

DOLPHINS

The Paparazzi would have loved itThis once a week spectacleSo you feel privileged to be

In the right place at the right timeAnd all because the sun and the planets Are aligned towards Mercury

It could just as easily be DingleBut the air doesn’t reek of saltAnd you don’t feel dwarfed By that great big ocean out thereSo I check the shooting mode on my digitalAnd launch into an uninhibited mingle

And yes, they are all here, Jedward Robbie, Ryan and PatDaniel posing unashamedly.

One dubbed SeanieJumping through hoopsThe highlight for me however

Was swimming alongside BonoWatching him surface and resurfaceReaching out, stroking his tail fin

Tommy Murray

21

FEBRUARY

Window bound and waitingFor that first snowdropI warm to a splash of yellowAt the bird feeder, notice too

Those little legacies of inclemencyGlistening like discarded hand mirrorsThe smoke from yesterday’s fire Rising pencil straight

Into the glaring grey sky where Vapour trails converse PythagoraslyAnd the silence belies the activityAs nature explodes at its own pace

Breathless the world waitsFor the thunk of a spadeOr the ‘tchak’ of the jackdawTo sound the clarion callFor the onslaught of spring


22

GNOME

DysfunctionalThey said you wereWhen you failed to raise your hat

And what have you to smile aboutLittle man, they mockedAll dressed up and nowhere to go

And where were you in Nineteen SixteenThey taunted, whenThe stones left the fields

And the wallsBent over backwardsDid you wave a flag?Or drink a toastOr skip along the narrow streetsTo the strains of Napper TandyAnd when the fiddlersplayed the high reel Did you dance?

Tommy Murray

23

GOOSE GIRL

Only a pictureA few square feetOf cracked canvasReckless daubs and soothing splashesWith figures in the foreground

A rectangular creationOf lights and shadowsWillowy verticalsAnd tracks that throb to the rhythmOf another time, another age

Where the relentlessWhisper of leavesIs punctuated only

By the occasional honk and the Brushed of starched calicoAs she comes and goes and staysBecalmed foreverIn a world of rising sap and opening buds


24

HANDYMAN

You will recognize himFrom the sack bag Of bits and piecesAnd the saw sticking out

He will have the box planeHe inherited from his fatherAnd a villainous looking nail barBoxwood rulers

And hickory handled squaresAnd a punch drunk spirit level, thatHas long since lost its certaintyHe will have a bradawl

To double as a pipe cleaner andA length of shelving with about Nine pence worth of knots

And there will be an urgencyAbout his every step

Tommy Murray

25

HIGH STOOL

Hepplewhite would have been Even harder to convinceDiscarding the idea

As one wouldA misshapen chair legA warped fiddle splat

Refusing to sanctionSuch an unpretentious arrangementOf uprights and rails

Oblique anglesAnd voluptuous curvesAnd opting instead

For something less homespunRun of the millSomething less ensconced

In the annals of wood turningAs being frequently incapableOf remaining upright


26

HOTSPELL

The day that summer Climbed over the garden wallVapour trails embroidered the velvet sky

The hedgerows turned out in frivelled whiteThe borders in orange and blue

And cast-offs That had not seen the light of day in agesWere plucked from obscurityAnd scrutinisedLike Christmas lightsMothballed memories of you

Tommy Murray

27

LANDSCAPE

Constable would have been Spoiled for choiceOpting perhapsFor a gunmetal And grey dazed horizonWith russet and dun for the bulrushesBehind the white-washed cottageWhere the smoke rises pencil straightAnd the old bridge leapfrogs across the riverTo the tangle of muddied blackthornsAnd the nut brown woodsGainsborough tooWould have loved the blueAbove the malachite splashed hillsWhere the sheep hangLike medallionsOn a general’s greatcoat


28

LEAN-TO

Immortalised in albumsAnd affectionately framed Family gatherings, that

Will be me with the broken plinthAnd the dark patchWhere the pebbledash ran out

A ponytail of bits and piecesHand me downs and afterthoughtsI am hardly photogenic

But once when September posed impromptuI was for a split secondThree sixteenths of a spectacular sunset

Tommy Murray

29

LEMMING

I remember the momentYou, lying thereImmaculate in pinstripe and cuff linksAnd the tie you only wore to weddingsThe broad grin fixed For all eternity

You blew your chance thenOf growing old gracefully Missed out on memoriesPipe smoke and slippers Sunsets of affection

You might have been famous Graced the top tablesTaken your place On pedestals and podiums Had you not decided to leave?When you did, and so suddenly

You could have taken it all in your stride Laurel wreath and golden handshakeAnd yes, you also missed out onCrow’s feet and quackery Weeks of wet MondaysAnd endless obituaries


30

MASS PATH

Here, mist is all the rageThe way ahead, a rosary of stepping stonesAs we brush past

Grandstands of cow parsleyAvalanches of May Trees limp with memories, hone in

To that twice in a lifetimeCall of the cuckooPenetrating the heat haze

With those sweet talking tonesThat manipulate time And mark off calendars

Dandelion and daisyPeopling the grassPausing by the lean to

On our way to morning MassWhere the ghosts of Christmas lingerAnd the cobwebs cling like snowAnd our swallows have returnedFor the fourth year in a row

Tommy Murray

31

MIXED MARRIAGE

Trying to make senseOf this Babel of Polynesian and YupikYou move among the guests

Try not to notice the whirling bolosThe harpoons And the swinging stone clubs

Pause to sampleThe yam paste and roast gibbonOr slurp a spoonful of moose soup

Applaud as the bride now resplendent In printed cotton, immaculately manicured GarlandsAnd sun bucket hat enters

The Groom, magnificent in beaded walrus hideCaribou skin gogglesAnd matching moccasinsTwo steps behind


32

OUTCAST

You will find me too In country towns, villagesOn dusty afternoons

Down cul-de-sac s, side streetsWhere the cranks of conversationAnd the skid marks of gossip

Barely rise above the undulatingDrone of distant prose, andThe stillness is such that

The sky seems to leapfrogAcross the rooftops, in Impulsive little outbursts

Of ochre tinted enthusiasm, and IAmt the pumpOn the edge of the footpath

A municipal dropoutA Christ of the Andes in my kingdom of Cambers and kerbstones, where

Nothing is spontaneous, exceptHub caps and spent lollipop sticksAnd smiles across the cobblestones

Tommy Murray

33

PRIMING THE PUMP

Is strictly a two handed affairThe knack beingTo pour and pump at the same time

And alwaysHave a saucepan or two in reserve

You must allow at least three bucketfulsFor the water to loseThat Pepsi Cola look

A further two before it’s drinkable Timing is everythingKnowing when to plunge

Pouring on the down strokeThen what with dry spellsAnd low levels

And whether the mechanismIs in the mood or notTen saucepans onIt might still be just Two bells and a grapefruit


34

SKETCHING A SCOTS PINE

The best views are close upIn twos and threesPolicing the hedgerowsIn looming chiaroscuro

Or fields awayFrom upstairs windowsScaffolding the skylineIn muted explosionsOf charcoal and grey

And whenOctober and twilight combineTo match their rugged grandeurThumb tackingLong lines of low hills to the horizon

Tommy Murray

35

SPANISH POINT

You marvel at the size of the skyAnd all that sandThe helter skelter of bird tracks, things

Wonder too about global warmingAnd rising sea levelsAnd what would happen

If the ice caps were to disappearWould the breakers still stop short?Of the rusting no bathing sign

And would the strollers Still side step the seaweed and stonesAnd what of Mutton Island

Out there straddling the horizonWould it still remain the last bastion?between me and America?

I bet that the gulls already knowThey will have noticed the extra fraction of an inchAt high tide


36

STONE WALLS

Every time I see and old stone wall orContemplate a craze of lichen clad crevicesI cannot help wondering aboutThe men that might have built it

My grandfather built old stone wallsIndeed what he didn’t know about slate and shale Rubble and lime and perpendicularity Wasn’t worth knowing

Had he lived I would have asked him tooAbout the hyssop, those timeless little clumpsThat seem to climb and climb hand over handWas it planted or did it just grow there And he would have told me stories and namesOf stones and how he could tell from the grainWhich ones to keep and which ones to throw awayStones have character, he might have said

I can picture him now shifting his pipe From one side to the otherThat grin of satisfaction s the stone slotted into placeEach stone should cast a shadow, He might say

I suppose it could be said that he wrote poems in stoneHoned each stone until it was just right His legacy now is there for all to seeA bedraggled poem written in stone

Tommy Murray

37

SWALLOWS

Aerobically challengedDead beatAnd with the threat of inclemency ImminentWe congregate at airportsAnd private pads

Or queue tunefullyIn conspicuous displaysOf blind obedienceTo some primitive callRestless urge

Some intuitive promptThat it’s all happeningOut thereIn the vast nothingnessBeyond the last lighthouse

That somewhere out thereBetween the high watermarkAnd the Tropic of CapricornOur Castle GondolfosBalmoralsOur Camp DavidsHave been mucked out and watered


38

MARCHIONESS

It isn’t easy being married to old QueensberryEven though he means wellNot that there’s any malice But two broken ribs On top of last week’s black eyeIs just about as much as I can take.

He’s supposed to miss, you knowWhile he measures the value of each punchBut occasionally he gets carried awayCaught up in a maze of rules and regulations“I’m trying to clean up the sport,” he tells me

Then there’s the weight advantageFour stone somethingWhich is why I dread the late night sessionsAnd the kidney punchesThe right hooksAnd the clinchesAnd I’m just terrified of the ones below the belt

Tommy Murray

39

THE NEW ENGLISH TEACHER

You know how it is in September The first day backTrying to come to terms with the new colour schemeThe wall, immaculate in magnoliaDoors, the worse for blue

Who’s new you wonderAs you notice the empty lockerCleaned out except for the rubber bandAnd the heavily pencilled copyOf ‘Getting to grips with English’

A limp handshakeAnd you feel as if you knew Miss Brody all your lifeThe little hen like movements of the headThe turn of phraseThe play on words are all so familiar

That you suddenly find yourselfScanning the picture of last years staff outingTrying to find a place for her in the line up,


40

THE OLD FORGE

What I remember is White eyed-men, staring outThe rattle of cinders, hellfireAnd that iambic beat of the anvil

A world of horse whisperersAnd hangers onWhere rekindled coalsFlare and die like fitful starsIn a distant universe

And every turn of phraseIs hammered out and shapedBefore being sanctionedBy the hiss of steamFrom the half barrel

And horses fart impatientlyBetween hee-haws and whinniesAnd the conversation I punctuatedBy woodbines and tobacco

Tommy Murray

41

THE ROSARY

I can still hear the sound of atonementBouncing off the humble hearthstone

As we rinsed awayThe little indiscretions of the day

The thumb cued drone of the PaterRising and falling

Like the plea of a captive bluebottleOn a summer’s morning

The unanimous rattle of avesSlipping quietly through pious fingers

The Gloria, whisking us back to reality Time and time again

As we washed the world from our jaded soulsTo the accompaniment of hissing coals

And the copper kettle singingSacreligiously in the grate


42

THE YETI

I’m with Darwin on this oneHuxley and Hooker tooSo instead of trekking acrossDesolate mountain ranges Looking for a seven foot tallSemi-celibate recluse

I would expect to come face to faceWith a race of ungainly Auburn haired introvertsA promiscuous assemblageOf loose limbed athletic typesWith just a hint of hairiness

Brown eyed beingsFighting for space in a sort of Malthusian nightmareAnd of course they would have digital camerasAnd the office party Would be the highlight of their year

Tommy Murray

43

TOPIARY

Careful nowConcentrate ClipThere goes that ostrichUnicorn tooMarsupially challenged kangaroo

Easy does itSteady upChopGuess I’ll hav e to settle for a swan

AlternativelyA goose or a duck might doAnd why not go for a green cockatoo

Uh huh, I’ve did it againBeheadedMy leglessLittle topiary Wren


44

VAN WINKLE’S RETURN

Look at meBlear-eyed, grubbyAs dishevelledAs a swallow in a sandstormReeking of sloe gin and juniperHair, a hurricane of Grizzled grey and auburnTime trailing in my wake

How thenAm I to face the dawn?Should I blush?When they ask me where I’ve beenWhen the children chant And call me namesOr when the eldersStroke their chins and wonder“Am I a Federal or a Democrat

Should I thrill them?”With my talesOf mountain paths and moonlit nightsDown deep ravinesWhere shadows flit from rock to rockIn stocking-footed silenceOr should I just tipThe brim of my high crowned hatAnd bid them “Top of the morning”.

Tommy Murray

45

WAGTAIL

For ever dropping inArriving UnannouncedI know your little game

CommandeeringEvery square inch of my affectionFor those spectacular touchdowns

Those unscheduled landingsFickle promisesThat dance and skipLike half glimpsed news flashes

In clockwork cued spurts of sprung rhythmAnd soft shoe, beforeTaxiing round the corner for take off


46

WHEELBARROW

Two coats of left over glossA dash of multi purpose lubricantAnd you were ready to rumbleYour maiden voyage setting the pace

What if your creator had? Run out of ideas early on, skimpedOn all but the basics, endowed youWith a minimum of trimmings

A Jurassic shape and an unmechanicle gaitThat fell somewhere betweenA casual amble and willingnessTo stop and chat at the drop of a hat

And what if at times youn did reekOf cut plug and stale porterYou were after allIndispensable

Tommy Murray

47

WILLOW PATTERN

Difficult to follow the plotWhat with those stringy legumesAnd all that mash

Of course there’s a fenceAnd a bridge with figuresSpanning a trickle of gravy

A pagoda too And a pavilionRight next to the succulent chicken breast

But where are the runawaysKoong-se and Chang, Unless they are slumbering Under the extravagance Of second helpings And what of the turtle doves

Are they destined to hover for ever?High above the complex of tea houses and treesCobalt tinted apples and carbohydrates


48

WREN

Cast against fanfaresOf scrawny whitethornAnd gutted gorseYou cut quite a dash In clipped wing and penitential brown

Defender of the stalky cabbage patchThe sunken spadeAnd upturned potMay your reign lastAs long as ladybirds sparkleIn the rekindled embers of spring

Tommy Murray

49


50

TOMMY MURRAY

A native of Trim and winner of numerous awards for literatureTommy Murray’s work has appeared both in Ireland and abroad.His poetry provided much of the background for the UTVdocumentary, Valley of the Kings and was also featured on RTEsNationwide.

His awards for literature include, The Gerard Manly HopkinsCertificate of Merit, The Patrick Kavanagh Memorial Certificate of

Merit, The Nora Fahy Award, The Tom O’ Shea Trophy in Swordsin 2004, Runner up in The Bard of Armagh Contest in 2002 andthe Poet of Fingal trophy in 2005 and 2006 and 2010

In March 2007 he accepted the prestigious ‘People in theCommunity’ IT project Award on behalf of The Meath Writer’s

Circle. His first collection of poetry ‘Counting Stained Glass

Windows’ was published by Lapwing Belfast. His work has appeared in a number of magazines such asFortnight, Riverine, Stroan, The Drumlin, Crannog, Revival, Ropes,NUI Galway, The Stony Thursday book, Riposte, The Moth, The

Edgeworth Papers and an anthology by the late Michael Hartnett.

Tommy Murray

51

3


52

TOMMY MURRAY

A native of Trim, County Meath, Tommy Murray hasbeen very active in promoting poetry and participatingIn literary events in Meath and beyond.

What others have said

A poet of immense promiseJB Keane

Maturing all the timeBryan Mac Mahon

One of Meath’s foremost poetsKen Davis, Meath Chronicle

Delights in his way with words, especiallyWhen he transcribes the landscape of Meath into poetry

Elizabeth Hickey

His main power point lies in his versatility as a poetAnd his ability to talk on diverse subjectsLouise Tallon, The Weekender

He is particularly good at absorbing various kinds of atmosphereAnd of recreating these atmospheres into verse, he enjoys lookingAt the world and his readers will enjoy it too

Brendan Kennelly

Tommy Murray has done more for Creative Writing in Meath Than anyone I know

Tom O’Malley

The Lapwing is a bird, in Irish lore

- so it has been written -

indicative of hope.

Printed by Kestrel Print

Hand-bound at the Winepress, Ireland

ISBN 978-1-907276-96-5

L A P W I N GL A P W I N GL A P W I N GL A P W I N GP U B L I C A T I O N S

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Swimming with Dolphins

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