Phyllis McKenna

McDrac!

Fields

Green

Blood Red

This is said

Roots steeped in Irish Soil

Crusted coffin buried deep to ensure Satanic sleep

Draped in turf in Donegal

Do you believe

At all

At

All.

Tentatively touching the warmish water

Encouragement proffered by chosen coach

I stepped in

 

Cold, then gently warming as my body

adjusted to the change

Growing accustomed to the sinking safety

Strokes learnt to progress onward

Confidence growing

 

No need for coach, I can swim alone

 

White dress, red roses, vows murmured without thought

Sinking into married state

too young. Bobbing, diving, drowning

Voices raised. I yearn for freedom.

Deep end now holds no fear for me.

 

No need for float

Buoyed up on hope

I swim alone.

(An exercise at Creative Writing  at Belfast Met – merge two completely different topics into one prose piece)

A Mummy in my bedroom

A zombie in the hall

Bats, skulls and spiders hang upon my wall

My room’s done in shades of black

With a bookcase full of fear

All my horror gothic books

Reside in a bookcase here

My walls also accommodate

Pictures of The King

His statue stands beside my chair

I love to hear him sing

Five little people I adore

Their room filled with colourful toys

My beautiful grandchildren

Three girls and two little boys

I love my cosy flat

Each room designed by me

Carpet, tiles and furniture

Just where I want them to be