Lily Poole

By Jack O'Donnell

A ground-breaking blend of ghost story, murder mystery and Scottish social drama

Monday, 24 November 2014

Crow no more

Did you see mum in her prime

Dodder as if in fine wine

Totter on a lost wee soul

Garment half-clean, rents unseen

Half-smile at familiar faces

Where she should have been

Haggard, weary-limbed –

Chilled to the bone

Trudge lost and hopelessly on

With glassless eyes and face new drawn

Taut with woe

Grim with dawn?


Did you see her aimless go

Bowled over with that –




Soaking through

Staring out in disgust at you

Nothing of tomorrow

Quenched of fire and sorrow?


Did you see Jean when she comes

Mouth half-filled with scum

Suds and blood and crumpled flesh

Where there’s nothing fresh

Numbing years ring like hours

Lag on and drag-on

The hopeless day

Naught but a child’s voice

It doesn’t have to be that way

Scourge without end

Death a smiling friend?


Did you see my mum

When she was outside hell

If not—ah well

Your loss not mine

I think you’ll find

That makes sense

But do not caw or pray

On the immortal soul being that way?


If you’ve seen love come down the line

You’ll know peace that is divine

If you’ve seen charity that needs no hymn

Let silence reign

Let the dead be dead and not a dread

And work for the unfinished living instead.

There lies a glittering truth

An unfilled space in my heart

Kept clean and clear

How great thou Art. 

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Pia Lenau
 Pia Lenau says:

That's incredible- poetry AND prose. I'm jealous of your fine poetry- You sure are a writer Jack- keep it up- except I can't pledge anymore right now. Wish I could. How long have you got?

posted 25th November 2014

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