Early Incipient Gleam

Every morn, the dawne,
Meets two eyn.
Orange sky,
Verses green grasse.
The apple, larger now,
Falls upon, ground-ash,
Nature's hoar tapestry destroyed,
New grasse bitten, now perishes.

A lummarist has finished,
Streams of light, duel with,
Dust brand particles,
The dawne is smiling,
A loving smile, through shutters,
Caressing my face,
With light kisses,
Of life.

Monistic feelings,
Run through veins,
Like a nulla, through thick ground,
Hard rock.
I am her single one left,
I will die also.
Niobian tears,
Line hardwood floor.

Paper grasped hard,
Torn off,
At the corners.
A promise,
Of return.
My sun is up,
New dawne,
Tomorrow.

^

Biography

My name is James Fitzpatrick. I swallowed my first file of air in a Cork hospital, Where I resided till age 6, then bags and all, moved to the Capital, Dublin, till one year ago. At the moment I live and teach (English) in the twined cultural capital of Europe, Porto. I have been influenced by both the people and culture of my surroundings and have put pen to paper to both relieve and express my inner self, and it feels great. I hope you enjoy what I have to offer, if not, I can only apologise for taking up your time. Finally, I'd like to thank Nessa and the Dublin Writers organisation for accepting me, and giving a chance to express myself publicly.