By: Stephen McGhee

Chimney Souls

Porter spit sizzles upon the coals
I half engaged through inward eye
Soon released as chimney souls
To dance with like in Dublin sky.

To stoke this world a poker turns
An ambers life to reignite
Hypnotised by burning thoughts
I re-engage to minds delight.

At rest in chair, a fiery face
A guard of porter on the floor
To watch those chimney souls at race
I spit upon the coals once more.

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If Not For Loss

If not for loss, then . . .
How could one know?
How it feels to accept
To endure. Forced to grow.

Loss of love, loss of hope
Loss of freedom of choice
Loss of mind, loss of limb
Loss of vision and voice.

Loss of courage and strength
Or all of these things
But, if not for loss
Where would heroes begin?

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A Dream So Bold

Returning to a yester dream
I chance to settle scores of old
A change of ending more beseem
Oh, to dream a dream so bold.

Who as I can turn back time?
And orchestrate as gods above
This universe of inner mind
To alter worlds, one could not love.

Mine eyes are windows to my soul
Behind closed eyes on souls’ impress
Unwary of a dream so bold
For as I woke did manifest.