Carole Lawrence

Enniscorthy, Co. Wexford, Eire, Ireland

Born on 1st March 1945, Abergavenny, South Wales. Parents, John Robert Barlow deceased, Nancy Muriel Barlow. Married to Charles, with a lovely daughter, Michelle Louise. I was educated at Margaret Glenn - Bott Secondary School, Clarendon College, both in Nottingham, England. I am a contemporary artist. Member of Wexford Arts Centre, Enniscorthy Golf Club. "Golf World" Magazine Award 1982, golf prizes, bridge prizes, Mensa Challenge Certificate 1996. The National Library of Poetry's Editor's Choice Award 1997. I enjoy a variety of music. The countryside gives me great inspirations for my poetry, where I try to express thoughts and feelings of this natural beauty.

The Stream

I hear the sound of running water
Sparkling, refreshing and cool
To dip ones fingers and toes in,
Flowing into a gentle shady pool.

How wonderful it feels,
The icy coolness bites against my warm hand,
Invigorating, soothing and tantalizing,
Such power springing from the ground.

The fish swim quickly darting through the reeds,
Flashes of gold and silver like pennies thrown in a fountain,
The light catches the silvery scales,
Like stars in a dark night sky.

The reeds sway with the motion of the water,
Oh gosh, there swims a beautiful otter,
Brown and furry and teeth so sharp
Ready to munch on some unsuspecting bark.

The hours are timeless as I gaze there
And wonder at the beauty in the warm air,
The light dancing on the water shines like diamonds
Facets so precious no money can buy.

The Leprechaun

The leprechaun came out on a moonlit night,
All dressed in green and a hat with a feather so bright,
Which swayed up and down and tickled his nose,
But this did not stop him for around he rode
On his fairy chariot down into the glen,
Followed by a band of fairy men.

They danced and laughed with glee,
Played hide and seek behind the old oak tree,
Music could be heard from a fairy's fiddle,
Some told stories and they all had a giggle.

They drank wine and water to a quarter to nine,
Then someone said it was now time,
So they all crept away and fell asleep
In a deep, deep slumber because they were all very weak
And they lay together cheek to cheek.

The Mouse

There goes a scurrying mouse
In and out of the hedgerow house,
His little home made so carefully
Of gathered moss and new mown hay,
Leaves of every shape and kind
For his bed they will be lined.

Such a busy little creature
Another wonder of nature,
A soft furry body and a long thin tail
Why so long I often wonder,
It is a thought on which to ponder.

Nuts are stored for winter use,
When the ground will be cold as ice,
He will be fine tucked up in his bed,
In the shelter of the hedge.