Far we have come from the gardens of wild roses.
Here, by this river running home to waiting wave
we stop and take turns tipping toes into the tide.

What if all we touched was troubled?
What if all the gold no longer bought

the glory?

Far we have come from the kingdom of wild roses.
Here, by these tides running out to open ocean
we stop and call the current to cast away the curse.


All words and photographs and bread by Damien B. Donnelly 

Inspired by the #PoetryPrompt ‘Midas’ on Twitter from the #PoetInResidence Catherine Anne Cullen at @PoetryIreland

Published by deuxiemepeau

Published poet, writer, baker and former fashion maker, with footprints in Paris, London and Amsterdam but currently back home in Dublin with sights aimed at leaving a mark on the West coast one clear fine day...

7 thoughts on “MYTHS OF MAN

    1. Well, I know it’s home may be the mountain but it will never go back there, it’s bien to ride the wave, right? I hope you are all okay- I heard NZ is shutting down tonight- are you both keeping well and all family and friends doing okay too- sending much love your way and safe hugs 💚💚❤️❤️🌟🌟

      1. Thank you Dami. Yes high-level lockdown kicked in last night but I’d actually thought we were already in it yesterday so it made little difference! We have the advantage that there are few cases of community transmission here in NZ so if people really get behind this then we might have a chance of beating it. In that respect we’re far better off than most places. Globally there’s been far too much dithering. We must be fierce about self-isolation and fighting the virus where ever it raises its ugly head.

      2. Too true- prevention is always better and there is no time like today, if we didn’t already take action yesterday. Take care,
        Stay safe and keep washing those hands my dears 💚☘️💚🙏

  1. You have an almost Biblical tone in this poem, reminiscent of parts of the book of Ecclesiastes, Chapter 1, especially verses 6 and 7. Here is a partial excerpt.

    “2 Vanity of vanities, saith the Preacher, vanity of vanities; all is vanity.
    3 What profit hath a man of all his labour which he taketh under the sun?
    4 One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh: but the earth abideth for ever.
    5 The sun also ariseth, and the sun goeth down, and hasteth to his place where he arose.
    6 The wind goeth toward the south, and turneth about unto the north; it whirleth about continually, and the wind returneth again according to his circuits.
    7 All the rivers run into the sea; yet the sea is not full; unto the place from whence the rivers come, thither they return again.
    8 All things are full of labour; man cannot utter it: the eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled with hearing.
    9 The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be; and that which is done is that which shall be done: and there is no new thing under the sun.”

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