Dr Niamh On The Plum Tree

Childhood Imagination Sows Seeds of Future Brilliance

For My Mother


For My Mother

I want to reach across the sky
to mists beyond the blue
to where you are imagined still
and I remember you

Your face was soft, your lilting tongue
a brogue of Burren’s air,
a flute that danced upon the wind
from Erin’s County Clare.

You danced a Hornpipe, kicked your heels,
smiled with not a care ~
With rocking ankle, turn of calf,
And ribbons in your hair.

Wild and exiled, mother mine
you beat the flaggy ground
with rhythm of the rebel coast
battering the sound.

I do miss your bluest eyes
and long for when you were
an orchid in a field of tare ~
the girl from County Clare.

Copyright, poem, Niamh Clune 2013, All rights reserved

Editor’s Note: Yesterday, May 30, was Mothering Sunday in the UK and Niamh’s lovely poem is posted in honor of the day. Best wishes and gratitude to…

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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

8 comments on “For My Mother

  1. davidprosser
    March 31, 2014

    xxx Hugs xxx


  2. Darlene
    March 31, 2014

    What a lovely tribute to your mother. I can see her dancing as I read it.


  3. thiskidreviewsbooks
    March 31, 2014

    A nice tribute. 🙂


  4. lumar1298
    April 9, 2014

    Very touching… Lovely, Lor.


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This entry was posted on March 31, 2014 by in Special Projects.
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