November 2022 – Day 1 (part 4)

The Path to Ukraine runs into West Cork.

A plan to raise the bar, and drink a toast,

was hatched while zooming with a knife and fork 

that shaved black ice, and broke into the host. 

Who’d swap their seat around this RIVER bank 

for half a loaf of time or tide before 

the end conspires to start anew with frank 

exchange, with heart exposed to soul like yore? 


Begone sweet doubt, uncertainty beguiles

the fool that rests, while hedgehogs sleep beneath

the fallen leaves of oak and ash, the trials 

of our winter begging respite, a wreath.

We’re all Ukranians from far and deep,

a measure and a half, too proud to weep.

Published by

Paul O'Mahony

I'm Paul O'Mahony (Poet). On Twitter you can reach me @Omaniblog A father. I work as business storytelling consultant - Podcaster - Blogger - Live streamer via Periscope - Foodie - I love to connect with people. . Live in Glanmire, Cork Ireland Europe

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