Herb Robert

The pale-pink spikes of Herb Robert

recede in hedgebank’s galaxy

of buttercup, harebell and phlox

unsucked by butterfly or buzzing bee;

one visitor alone alights

on its unfancied petal- fair

hard to tell if wasp or fly-

its pungent nectar to imbibe.

As in the case of flowers spurned,

insects that seem grotesque,

everyone and everything

is each by nature blessed

with purpose and the gift

of love and being loved;

and for their very difference,

by only fools are scorned.


by Mike Gallagher 


Car Park

Blonde:  Tall

Legs:    Long

Jeans: Blue

Coat:   Brown

Colours: Clash

Beauti: Fully

Long legs

Long strides

This way


Old man

Dream on.


by Mike Gallagher


Mike Gallagher was born on Achill Island, Co. Mayo, Ireland. He lived in Britain for forty years before retiring to Lyrecrompane, Co. Kerry. In Ireland he has been published in The Doghouse Book of Ballad Poems, Irish Haiku Society, Revival, The Stony Thursday Book and Crannog; outside Ireland, his poetry and prose has been published throughout Europe, America, Canada, Japan, India and Australia. He won the Eigse Michael Hartnett viva voce prize in 2010 and is a current nominee for the Hennessy Award. He is the editor of thefirstcut, an online literary journal.

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