Skip to content

Belfast Boy

Behind an abandoned monastery

I came upon him,

the folds of his bronzed coat rusted,

half an arm kicked off by a rebel,

his tiny face weathered

from too many harsh Irish winters,

his soulful expression somehow mirroring

the country surrounding him —

troubled and weary,

yet exquisitely beautiful.

No comment yet, add your voice below!


Add a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Writer and Poet

BEARA-08-24-alternate_400x270
Tricia McCallum profile

Tricia McCallum

Always be a poet. Even in prose.
Charles Baudelaire.

In essence I am a storyteller who writes poems. Put simply, I write the poems I want to read.[…]

Amazon Profile

Instagram

New Book

Books on Goodreads

Tricia McCallum

Recent Comments

Thanks for sharing

Archives

Past Posts

Categories

All Topics