Literary Yard

Search for meaning

By: Ursula O’Reilly

Photo by Kat Smith on


Rain is pounding tears
Onto my windowpane.
Oozing tears into
The abandoned forest.

Wind wails in the treetops.
The forest sways and creaks,
Anticipating the worst.
Water soaks leaves and grass.

The waterlogged earth groans.
Stout storm clouds gather,
Soon to burst.
The storm will happen.

But it will pass.
As it always does.



Evening, quiet as a cat, creeps
In search of a warm bed.
Darkness seeps like smoke.
Into crevasses, into corners,
Into houses and neat back yards.
Between trees in the forest,
Spreading its thick blanket,
Lulling life to sleep.

Stillness falls.
Wild creatures retreat to lairs.
Birds rest, settle their feathers for sleep.
Nocturnal creatures, alert, sharp-eyed,
Hunt for prey.
The day departs like a snake,
Slithering silver,
Bestows nightfall in its wake.

The world shifts.
Night awakens.



For the times I did not see,
Did not see the shadows creep.
Went upon my weary way,
Did not see darkness fall.

For the times I did not note,
Did not note the taste of fear.
Did not see menace beneath,
A comely face, genial mode.

You watched my steps, followed close,
Never once abandoned me.
Ever by my shoulder nigh,
I did not see.

I passed by, carried on,
When I fell, you carried me.
I did not know that I was wrapped,
Wrapped in the hands of God.


Ursula O’Reilly lives in Ireland and enjoys writing poetry and fiction. Ursula has had her work published online and in numerous magazines including ‘Poetry Plus magazine’, ‘Otherwise Engaged Literature and Arts Journal’, ‘Woman’s Way magazine’, ‘Vita Brevis Poetry Press’, ‘Lothlorien Poetry Journal’, and by ‘Earlyworks Press’.        

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