Heaven’s howling!
Summer forsaken, storms converge,
heaven’s howling!
We have flittered too long fowling;
nature forsaken, gods now purge
our wasted ways, our sloth, our splurge,
heaven’s howling!


All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

This is a repost.


There is beauty
and there is decay,
they are gardeners of the same plot,
seeking sustenance from the same sun,
shade from the same soil,
one awaits the wonder of the weather,
the other;
weathered by her ticking thunder.

There is beauty
and there is decay,
they are inseparable,
one holding fast to its height,
the other;
falling fast through its fragility

and in between
their entanglements
is left life
until that, one day, leaves.

All words and photography by Damien B. Donnelly



Like bodies for burial, on belts
conveying commodities
to congested communities,
shrubs are shrouded
in sheets of plastic
that will not perish,
in weather
that can now only wither,
along concrete
too painful to penetrate,

as brick and beast
tower over twig and tree.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly


Screen Shot 2016-04-18 at 23.04.09

We scuttle and scurry
through stepping storms
and stormy skies,
through coughs and cries
and hellos and goodbyes.

We scuttle and scurry,
seasoned citizens
battling the seasons,
the blistering breezes,
the rains and the sneezes,
the smothering sweats
and the winters that freeze us.

We scuttle and scurry
from blankets to brollies
beneath covetous clouds
through clustering crowds,
over pools and puddles
splashing mud on our muddles.

We scuttle and scurry
through this life
in such a hurry

that it’s often gone
before we’ve got it.

All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photography taken under a stormy sky by The Palacio Real de Madrid, Spain.



And so falls
a fleet of rain,
another sheet
to soak the street,
another sheen
to shine up shadows,
to wash away the steps
others have taken
along your paths,
to wash the traces
of all that came before.

And so falls
a ray of light,
another shimmer
of the summer,
another colour
to coat the concrete,
to sink into skin,
to bronze bodies
and burn away
the whimpers and whines,
to forget the sorrows
and let the shadows shine.

All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly



The states have shifted
subtle shifts         sudden shifts
not so subtle warnings,
the ground is unsteady
tiny trembles           threatening trembles
not so steady warnings,
the flowers are blooming
out of season                                         every season
not so seasonal seasons,
the rain is falling
summers drowning                                    winters drying
no predicting the seasons,
the ice is melting
seas are rising                                                    lands are sinking
these were not just warnings.

The states have shifted,

we took the Earth

and now the Earth is taking back.


All Words and Photographs by Damien B. Donnelly

Photographs taken at the IceWatch installation for COP2 in Paris, France.


In the summers heat
The raindrops fall
As the dust of August
Runs down the wall.
Inside the house
Lie endless cries,
Broken hearts
And comfortless toys.
A child on the outside
But silent within,
No one to play with,
No reason to grin.

Sadness falls
Like rain in winter,
Leaves in autumn
And the all too little
The hope of spring.

All she wants
Is to wish on the stars,
To fly with Venus
And twinkle at Mars,
To spread her wings
And take to the skies
To stay above clouds
Where the rain never cries.


Winter’s Child

You gently

Wrapped your first chill

Around me

The other night,

As if to remind me

It was time

For the first blanket

Of a season in changing,

And I felt


Like the return

Of the faithful familiar-

Prompting me

To double sheets under duvets,

Close windows on sneezes,

Return socks to naked feet,

Turn from salads to soups

And wear scarves instead of shorts.

You’ve barely begun

To layer me up-

Snuggled and bundled on the sofa-

And yet,

Even so,

In that silly short space of reunion,

I’ve replayed, in my mind,

How it rolls,

Every year,

From the final

Fading flicker of

Summer’s lasting light

To those

Autumnal sundowns

Before the Winter’s

Fairy lights.

I am born of fire

And storm,

I fear,

Finding so much more

Warmth and solace

Watching rain

Beyond windows,

Traipsing footprints

Through snowfalls

And cuddling indoors

As the wild winds roar.

I hear,

In the mere hint of your arrival,

The jingle of silver bells

And see the glistening

Of bright colored baubles-

Smelling yule logs a-baking

And mulled wine a-making.

I am Winter’s child-

Coasting home

On the last glorious rays

Of summer-

So grateful for those

Bright nights

And near bronzed skin

But overjoyed at the thought

Of wooly jumpers

And fur lined slippers,

Marks and Sparks pajamas

And hot milk with biscuit dippers.

I wrapped myself

In the first blanket covering

Of autumn

The other day,

As September slipped

Behind the last shadow

Of Summer…


All words and photographs by Damien B. Donnelly