Wednesday, 8 January 2014


You’re so charming, So disarming
The way you make me feel is crazy and alarming!
You’re so delicious, making me ambitious
And now my smile is making friends suspicious

You make my heart begin to race
You put the sunshine on my face,
You make the world more colourful,
You make me feel so beautiful

I’m excited, and delighted,
The fire inside me’s been ignited!
You admire me, it inspires me,
I like to think that you desire me

My dreams are all over the place
I think that I need some head space
My fists in balls when I awake,
I hold my breath, my insides shake.

My words tumble, all a jumble
Control my thoughts but then you call me and I crumble
Glad you’re my friend, but I can’t pretend,
It feels amazing and I don’t want this to end

I don’t know how to deal with this.
Spinning, falling, frenzied, an abyss!
You make me want to scream and shout.

My guts are turning inside out!

- Tara Reynor - (some time ago!)

Wild Irish Rose

Wild Irish Rose

In the place beyond twilight she’s waiting for you,
As you stroll down the lane of warm gold and cold blue.
Softly she whispers your name through the breeze.
Or is it the wind caressing the trees?

Fairies will gaze as they prance through the air,
wishing their dresses were spun from her hair.
They gaily and nimbly dance rings ‘neath her feet.
She watches them fondly, her smile is so sweet.

Deep in this wood, shadowed by mist,
she’s lying here hidden, she silently twists.
In the hedgerows, the ditches: grass glistens with dew.
She listens, she lingers, she’s longing for you.

Not where bramble and briar and blackberries grow,
Nor where moss and green lichen or cloaked rivers flow.
But in storm and in thunder her cries may be found,
for her sweet voice is lost and makes no human sound.

Let the radiant birds sing in chorus above,
as she has no tongue: cannot speak of her love.
Feathered cousins sing for her, of all her desire.
For her loves flame to touch her, and set her afire.

For your intimate smile and the light in your eyes.
Aching with sorrow her tears have run dry.
So the stream cries for her, it’s tears are a flood.
Cascading down over pebbles and mud.

Now she waits for the day when her splendid display
can be plucked from it’s thorns and held to your nose.
For her incomparable love of you - in the heart of her petals glows.
Making your heart smile with content,
drinking her perfume: a potion of scent.

Virtuous, Noble, Faithful and True
One bloomed for you only - the last of a few.
Who can tell you the hour or the day,
when her fingers come searching for your heart to play?
Kisses like rainbows, - Your Wild Irish Rose.

Tara A. Reynor - 1999

Ode to Achilles

Ode to Achilles
Alas, with heaviness of heart I must accept that my heroic Achilles has fallen.
To my despair and revulsion; portrayed as a ‘dishonourable death’.
Save that to all who knew him, the fact cannot be hid that he was overwhelmed and executed.
Slain and Stolen from me by some cowardly, cruel, brutal, murderous hand.

Would a thousand times that I could have taken his place.
His Life held far more worth to others than ever will my own.
His generosity and inspiration were an encouragement to countless fellow men.
He was a Saviour of lives amidst chaos and a Champion of vulnerable victims.

The Sun has been extinguished. The Stars are out. The Moon is dead.
His favourite month of May witnessed his final strangled breath.
All of the Flowers have withered; the Birds have forgotten their dawn-song.
This grief-ache I will cherish and endure, for every day of what remains of my life I will miss him.

May your faith have found favour with The God that we know to be there, that we shared.
I plead with Him that He permit you to greet me when my own moment comes,
That in Heaven you will be the one to turn to me with your lovely smile and gentle eyes and say
‘Look, You told me so, everything really is alright and isn’t this wonderful?’

I am engulfed in anguish. Bewildered with no comfort to be found.
Words mean nothing. Nothing. My Mentor is no more.
Rest peacefully My Beloved Friend, My Confidante, My Brother in Christ
................and My god-like Achilles.

Tara O’Grady  - 6th May 2011