Dr Niamh's Children's Books

Childhood Imagination Sows Seeds of Future Brilliance

Shedding Old Skins

Time for change! The new season is upon us, and I have always found solace in reading the signs of nature. Leaves fall, and trees might be bare, but underground Spring is already in preparation.

The Plum Tree has been through many changes lately: the sort of forced changes that are are personally hurtful, so as ever, in times such as these, I tend to resort to poetry.  The good thing about change is that it makes re-evaluation and transformation possible…

Janet Beasley Clouds.

Janet Beasley Clouds.


My throat is dry from weeping
Into an ocean
Where a few more droplets will not create a swell.
Nor will the sound of tears spent
Be heard above the curlew cry
Or gulls’ greedy, dry-throated squawks for morsels.

Can I soar above the false cries,
The shouts of fury,
The passion spent and wasted on others?
As I shed my skin
And stand again within my core ~
Within my light
And see it travel on the wind
Or move along the glistening wave
Until it reaches the shore?

(c) Niamh Clune


About Dr Niamh

When I was a little girl (a very, very long time ago), I used to love learning new, really big words like ‘discombobulate’. As I grew, my love of words grew too, until I loved them so much, I could not stop writing them down. One day, as I was scribbling a particular word, a very peculiar thing happened. The word shouted at me, “Stop! Don’t put me there!” As you can imagine, I was shocked and nearly fell off my chair. When I recovered somewhat, I said to the word, “Could you stop shouting, please? I am not used to it.” Can you guess what happened next? No! I thought not. The word said, “I might be small, but I will misbehave if you do not use me properly. I will not tell the story you would like me to tell. I will say something entirely different!” I dropped my pen. I hoped that by dropping my pen, the word would stop talking. Alas! It did not. It carried on chitterchobbling, even after the ink had dried. I was in a pickle. I could not allow my words to run away with my story, now could I? I don’t know about you, but when this sort of thing happens, there is only one thing left to do if you prefer not to spend your time arguing. “Very well,” said I. “I will do as you ask if you will just be quiet and allow me to concentrate.” Since that day, I have been paying special attention to every word I invite into my stories. After all, a story should say exactly what it means to say and not be led astray. With love from Dr. Niamh, Ph.D in Learning Through The Imagination and Founder of Dr Niamh Children's Books. www.drniamhchildrensbooks.com

7 comments on “Shedding Old Skins

  1. Ben Naga
    November 1, 2013

    Nice piece. It says just what needs saying, and with skill and grace.


  2. Uncle Tree
    November 2, 2013

    I wonder, if every time we shed our skin,
    it comes back thicker – adding more protection
    at the cost of our sensitivity. Then again,
    the pearl in the shell might wish it were elsewhere.

    Let the stag and the unicorn carry on their play.
    You are a survivor who will stay in the game,
    and you have my continued good wishes.


    • ontheplumtree
      November 2, 2013

      Thank you, Uncle Tree! I do not think the new skin should be thicker or hide sensitivity. It should be more luminescent. Then it is its own protection.


  3. thiskidreviewsbooks
    November 3, 2013

    Nice poem, Dr. Clune! I like it! 🙂


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This entry was posted on November 1, 2013 by in Poetry, Special Projects and tagged , , , , , , , .
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