Giving The Given

Imagine this, I doubt if you can, he is the new Capability Brown, the most philanthropic man I’ve met this week

He works in Dublin town, plays lawyer for the crown, but spirits the money away into the land, o boy he’s way out there, something grand, and I met him this week

Imagine this, I doubt if you can, he says that I am a poet, and that I have written the perfect poem this week

I work in an old England town, mostly I play the clown, and spirit away the money by following bands, o joy he’s given me quite a hand, good that I met him this week

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
Read free in Ibooks on Itunes here
Listen free on soundcloud here
Watch free on youtube here
Read and download for free from ISSUU here

Man of Substance

Be there, as the time plays on, stay on that peaceful joyous note

As if all day the sun’s rays shone, as if the goth and his grand-father held hands till the day had gone

Why would I doubt you, a mind with such fine shoes, as if all the rich and famous haven’t already stayed here in the Gresham Hotel

Where you remembered that afternoon, almost thirty years ago to the day, sat at a dining table with Professor PJ O’Reilly

Watching the men of the cloth, in their crocodile skin shoes, taking all on tap, with a slight nod, to their Holy Father

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
Read free in Ibooks on Itunes here
Listen free on soundcloud here
Watch free on youtube here
Read and download for free from ISSUU here

Reader

All in this body, all in this mind, all open to rediscovery, such a thing of such a kind

All in all this morning, all in all, all this day, is open to the tinker, the tailor, the soldier, the spy, and the catcher in the rye

All in all this hearing, all in all this breathing, all in all to the keeping, of such a thing, as an open mind

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
Read free in Ibooks on Itunes here
Listen free on soundcloud here
Watch free on youtube here
Read and download for free from ISSUU here

Memo to Sail

Take a note my boy

For those two weeks in June and July

Say bon voyage to Lincolnshire my boy

Sail off for Galway, with your horse of troy

Take note my boy

Be awake for the awakening tune

Say “hey there, it’s me, over here boy”

“I’ve made my way over here, to hear the bands of joy”

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
Read free in Ibooks on Itunes here
Listen free on soundcloud here
Watch free on youtube here
Read and download for free from ISSUU here

Addled Imagination

I want to talk to you of the glowing embers, on this damp and foggy Connemara afternoon

Ask you to fill your nostrils, with the aromas of slow burning logs, from the fireplace of the head gardeners cottage

I want to sit by you, as a reconstruction; you sat in my armchair, me on the floor, I will leave the desk-work until the morning

We might witness our lives in the fires flames, sense our excitement, with occasional sparks of emotion

The liquor will warm us, as also might the Donegal woven blanket, thrown over us, when we pull closer together

I want to talk to you of the glowing embers, you my mother superior, in this house of Benedictine nuns

From Christopher Sanderson's Ireland Poems
Read free in Ibooks on Itunes here
Listen free on soundcloud here
Watch free on youtube here
Read and download for free from ISSUU here