Categories
Poetry

Grandad’s Other Language

By Jenny Middleton

Old Man by Vincent van Gogh. Courtesy: Creative Commons
Grandad’s Other Language

My Grandad spoke Irish

not to us, but with

the soft sky thudding

piano clouds above


pulling wispy cotton vapours thin

in their gusts across the sea

unknotting rain to fall with his speech

garnered and carried with the lulling songs

of other isles rich with other airs.
 

Or else he listened, late at night,

to a radio’s report

relating today’s news with voices

from childhood’s yesteryear

new sprung
 

with lush grass, buttercups and clovers

grown long and pressing damp leaves

to whorls trapped under

the glassy, musty confines

of a London terrace and its red brick moods
 

as he murmured Latin prayers beneath

an English service to petalled oracles,

crooning untranslated lore

from the webbing undulations

of Thames Valley’s silt strewn soil

till they were a-fleck with meadowy

Ballycolgan smiles.

 

Jenny Middleton has written poetry throughout her life. Some of her writing has been published in hard copy anthologies or on online poetry sites, including ‘The Blue Nib’. Jenny is a working mum and writes whenever she can  amid the chaos of family life. She lives in London with her husband, two children and two very lovely, crazy cats.  You can read more of her poems at her website  https://www.jmiddletonpoems.com 

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PLEASE NOTE: ARTICLES CAN ONLY BE REPRODUCED IN OTHER SITES WITH DUE ACKNOWLEDGEMENT TO BORDERLESS JOURNAL

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