NEWS FLASH
The Hungry Grass launch 11/4/23, Old School Centre, Hollyfort
Sunday, August 12, 2012
Re-dedication of Thomas Moore tree
Wicklow Writers, Nora, Carol and Martin read Thomas Moore poems at re-dedication of a tree to replace the one under which the famous poet and composer sat at the Meeting of the Waters, Avoca.
Saturday, August 11, 2012
WWs at 'Problem Solving' poetry therapy workshop
A big thank-you to Wicklow Writers for joining me in a Poetry Therapy workshop. It was a lively and, hopefully, a worthwhile session for all involved.
Sunday, July 29, 2012
Therapeutic Writing Course
This picture was taken at the end of a brilliant week's course on the Introduction to Therapeutic Writing in Falmouth Uni in UK. Vicky Field (cert poetry therapist) and Ann Taylor (lecturer) ran an informative and insightful introduction to the use of poetry and prose for the mental well-being of groups and individuals.
Participants came from Lithuania, France, Ireland and UK and from the medical and creative disciplines.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Therapeutic Writing Course
Introduction to Therapeutic Writing Summer School: 23-27 July 2012
It will show how reflective, personal writing can improve your own professional practice, in whatever field, and your general well-being. You will experience techniques for yourself as well as develop skills in facilitating others.
The course is led by Victoria Field, a writer and Certified Poetry Therapist, and Anne Taylor, a writer with experience of running writing groups for personal and professional development.
I'll let you know how it goes . . .
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Dalkey Book Festival

Another Poem
Sorcery in Caheraderry
The home grows from a ring fort
through the clay of Caheraderry
as we fish lines of syllables
from grey Liscannor stone.
Across a marshy field, flag irises
shine through this greener grass
oversee the lift and return
of two coffin stools
legs turned vermicular and
splayed to take the load -
appanages of dignity that lightly
held a master’s weight a month ago.
And like the sorcerer’s apprentice
we witness the breaking of a spell
that turns coffin stools back
into occasional tables.
The home grows from a ring fort
through the clay of Caheraderry
as we fish lines of syllables
from grey Liscannor stone.
Across a marshy field, flag irises
shine through this greener grass
oversee the lift and return
of two coffin stools
legs turned vermicular and
splayed to take the load -
appanages of dignity that lightly
held a master’s weight a month ago.
And like the sorcerer’s apprentice
we witness the breaking of a spell
that turns coffin stools back
into occasional tables.
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