READERS' POEMS: Check out our budding Seamus Heaneys!

So if you fancy yourself the next Seamus Heaney, there's still time to share your work with us.

Here are some of the best.

’A MOTHERS ETERNAL LOVE’ - By Teresa Furlong

You brought me into this world many years ago,

although you struggled with the times,

with love I did grow.

You always led by example,

your standards were very high.

You always encouraged the best from me,

you said be honest never lie.

Throughout my life you have been my rock,

always there to hear my fears.

Your love was always constant,

you have watched me shed my tears.

Your skills as a granny were just as good,

their love for you tenfold.

You have blessed and enriched all our lives,

even as you grow old.

You now sit quietly in your chair beside a crackling fire.

Your mind is not what it once was,

your body can easily tire.

Your memory is fading,

confusion has come to stay but love still shines from tired green eyes as you go about your day.

Thanks you Mam for all the love,

you gave without reserve.

We now do what you cannot its all that you deserve.

Teresa Furlong: My poem is dedicated to my mother who is 95 in May and has been my inspiration all my life.

'IRELAND' - By Catherine Treanor

Our country once was booming

The tiger in full roar

What you had wasn't good enough

You always wanted more!

Houses popped up like mushrooms

Banks so willing to lend

We never stopped to think

What could be round the bend?

The tiger is now a kitten

The mushrooms they do rot

Everyday a new cut

Not many have a lot.

But Ireland is our country

It's spirit will never die

We will always stick together

and let Tricolour fly!

We do not need so much

We realise our greed

If you are alive and healthy

you have everything you need!

People come from near and far

and we always leave an impression

You'll never beat the Irish craic

Even through a recession!

‘MOONLIGHT ENCOUNTER’ – By Laura Crowe

Bachelor Wisdom has taken a wife.

Her name is Love

And she gave birth to Life.

Her saw her one night,

Deep in the forest

Sobbing in the moonlight

He stepped forward, embarrassed.

“Tell me, strange beauty, why do you weep?”

‘Forgive me, oh Wisdom it’s been years without sleep!

My burden’s so heavy, it’s a sleepless despair!

I cannot be Love if love is not shared!

The pain of my banishment,

without relief without sleep!

It’s long and it’s painful

And so forgive me, I weep.

Oh, what soul will bring rest to my eyes?

Who will hold my love until I rise?’

Now Wisdom was not a foolish man.

He knew Love was genuine and he had a plan.

He had for years searched the skies

For all the answers to men’s lies.

And now maybe if he could ask this woman

That would be the end of all his trouble?

So he took her hand and brought her home

And showed her all there was to know.

He put her to bed and left her dreaming

He held her love till dawn came streaming.

'THE FACEBOOK POEM' By Jo Heavey, Feb 17 2013

I’m here on this Facebook it’s a wonderful site,

But since I have found it my house is in shite,

The people here on it, I think they are great,

They all listen to me when I feel irate.

My children are starving, the hubby as well.

Has the laundry been done? I really can’t tell.

The dog needs a walk, I really must cook,

I should make the beds….Oh just one more look.

The red light is lit on my notifications bar,

Wow! My last post has twenty two likes so far,

I see I have another friend’s request,

Who is this person? It’s anyone’s guess.

Oh that’s a good post, will I hit like or share?

And I think to myself, will anyone care?

As day passes day, and on it I’m stuck,

I say to myself, damn you Facebook.

Jo Heavey: “Just to add a light hearted slant on things”.

'CHILD’S DREAM' - By Anne Donoovan

To be accepted flaws and all,

to understand the falling ball.

Nosy world,

grass being crushed,

floods of water in my house.

A distant sound on top of me these can overwhelm.

People busy all around,

I can hear their heartbeat a hundred feet away.

Cars in the distance drive next to me,

swim like a dolphin in the vast seas,

they understand,

empathise with me.

Together we can be free brothers, sisters will try to understand not having my kind of mind wont land it in your palm.

Anne Donoovan: “My poem describes in a very small way whats its like to have Autism inspired by my three sons”.

'DON'T ASK' - By Noel Dawson

White knight, new hopes in times

That we share failing times.

Smiling pope brightens up a black Church,

as the sun comes out on Saint Peters Square.

Take away my sins,

for I'm ready to sail with the fisher man once more.

I've seen the light,

as the wealth of our little country takes poor times and turns them around once more.

Francis look down on us,

as we get caught up in fears of wealth,

for you had the wealth of all to live within the poor.

Noel Dawson: “Inspired by changes for the good, as wealth is for the heart, not the wallet”.

'RACHEL CORRIE - 10YRS' - By Theresa Carter

You started from young recognising the wrong

The war and destruction going on far too long

You wanted to help, you knew that you must

So to injustice, conflict and war you were thrust.

A sense of the wrong these people must feel

Displacement, fear and in terror they reel

Families blown apart, ripped at the seams

All for land, a strip of dirt and some dreams.

I bow to your courage, your sense of right

Your commitment and love to pick up their fight

It must have been scary to live under fire

I’m sure you were driven by the peace you aspire.

Could you have settled, knowing this would go on?

Would you know peace when all they knew was wrong?

I feel that your body, broken and torn it is gone

Your spirit in peace, love and justice lives on.

Theresa Carter: “It's also 10 years since 23yr old Rachel Corrie was crushed by a bulldozer defending people in the Gaza strip. I wrote this when I read her story during the week”.

'ON FAMILY CONFLICTS' - By John Patrick Buckley

Bank-up the sagging fire with last year’s cuts

of peeling silver ash and weathered beech,

Grab the crooked spit and poke the lazy embers

to do their job of sparking and crackling speech.

Rest all frayed memories in the wicker baskets

by the hearth and stack of damp black peat,

Stretch out a hand across the skillets puffing voice

to thaw the cold palm or smother ripe conceit.

Desist from thumbing the old crumbling sheaves

of frayed images of long lost loves or best old day,

Stay silent on all your known and kindred blood

those who may have to dig your grave in clay.

The only certainty is the slowly cooling embers

darkening as they lose their genial warming gift,

Segmenting as they yield to the lurid snoring flames

in a slow parody of lies that’s very short on thrift.

All dreams, and wishes, end in powdered wisps

dissipating on the breath of the slightest gesture,

Withdrawing, without integrity, dissolving fast

in the gaze of best intentions and waste conjecture.

Some old letters, words and promises as empty spoils,

decay in mildewed envelopes with blurred intact secrets,

Out of sight and earshot of acrimony’s relentless march

over the frivolous whims of brothers and paltry regrets.

Any ash that falls to the floor is welcomed to the hearth

and swept up with kisses by earths consuming mother,

In time, coppice embers shall leave no trace or epitaph

nor sour assertions that will condemn or cruelly smother.

‘WHEN’ - By Richy Guidon- Smith

When a smile rolls back the mist

And settled a sweltering sun in midsummer,

And dew from crystal-white clouds

Loosen the Sun’s choking grip,

When Monsoon is summoned.

When a laugh calms harsh winds in Nepal

Where skin is withered by winter’s ire,

And powerful Warlords on Everest’s head

Send crashing to ground the Snowfall,

And melt cold hearts in Fire.

When glances from beautiful eyes

Break planets apart at the core,

And bright burning Stars in the cosmos

Roar and radiate like a vernal sunrise,

In eternal rapport.

When a touch sets fire to the forests,

Burning wild like Stromboli’s revenge,

And cries from the dens and dwellings and nests

Are drowned out and soothed by death

That is yours and mine to avenge.

When a kiss laid forth from the Soul

Causes gushes and tempests in oceans and seas,

And dolphins swarm to strafe at the shoals

Swimming forever in fear,

Where sea-lions battle in a blistering breeze.

'THOM DE PAT GOES TO SCHOOL' - By Sean Tyler

Maybe I’m asleep or not awake,

in a place between where memories I make.

There in behind the grey walled playground no friends have they found.

Flashing noisy laughter and panicked screams scare them.

They hide at corners on there own,

peering around to see what's going on.

Some still fly and jump in playground dust,

oblivious to the master’s lust.

Bell goes,

God I am awake.

Silence now,

bell still ringing in my head,

his cane goes down,

bang,

up comes calk dust.

Mad black eyebrows stare 'in fear you shake,

who’s innocents today I wonder will the master take.

Mothers wonder why children kick there ankles black and blue cry and drag there heels just to be with you.

Why did that smile just go away and turn to fear in such a short way.

Think they all just closed there eyes one day.

But fear and love are mixed now it won't go away.

They hung the mangey dog from a tree there mixed up boys think its reality or is it because they have a lot of pain and so the mangey dog gets all the blame.

TOMORROW - By Tara Downey, aged 14

Look at the sky.

One day the sun will fall.

One day darkness will reign.

The horizon will burst aflame while the night haunts its fleeing prey.

The stars will fall, one by one, until there's nothing to wish on, no hope.

One day the ground will fall away beneath our feet.

The dirt will flood full of regrets and wash away our remains.

The plants will wither and crumble to ash, the trees will decay.

Pungent smoke will strangle the lungs that struggle to breathe.

One day the rivers will run red with dregs of a forgotten era.

The ocean waves will lap at bleached bones.

One day the sun will fall.

One day nothing will remain.

Look at the sky.

The stars are sparkling, the sun shines on us all.

Tomorrow the world will end.

Tomorrow we will forget.

But in this moment,

in the middle of the world,

this breath of air,

this singular blink of an eye,

in the middle of confessing these words that mean nothing.

Beating hearts and forgotten smiles lie.

This moment,

this whispered curse,

will never die.

Carved into the heart,

it will live past destruction.

Look at the sky,

see how eternity lives in its depths.

'HOW TO TACKLE AN ART GALLERY' - By Enda Kenneally

Divide and conquer

Take cubism by the early afternoon

Form base camp

Distribute rations

Establish a watch for errant surrealists

Attempt the summit in the morning

Of early Renaissance and the Dutch

If you feel dizzy

Sit down and read a football magazine

Take this step-by-step

You are only one man

And this is an art gallery

‘CAR PARK MALE SHOPPING WAIT’ - By Michael Foran

Unroutine shopping stop,

kids sleep,

man waits in car whilst female she shop,

male’s car sanctuary passivates.

Left to right looking at male brethren in our natural surrounding,

repeating glances unspoken language,

our sighs and seat sinking resounding.

Man trying to think the story,

our cars our statements our voice,

our symbol of life or glory,

here waiting as told to or choice.

Glancing in mirror and through pane,

those grasped moments man and machine,

sitting up now and composure regain,

shopping over and copilot seen.