We have had some beautiful autumn weather here in Ireland, a bonus after an unusually long summer. As I walked along my local beach taking photos, the sound of the waves pounding on the shore reminded me of war for some reason – it may have been because it’s the anniversary year of WW1.
As I looked over my photographs later that evening the one above stood out and inspired some verse. I haven’t written any poetry in ages, it’s amazing the effect a walk in the fresh air can have on you. I’ll have to do it more often, I’ve been spending too much time indoors writing books. I’m dedicating this poem to my husband’s great-uncle, Michael O’Neill of The Royal Dublin Fusiliers, 8th Battalion, who died in the trenches in Loos, 29 April 1914, aged 20.