Welcome back …. Paul T Conneally

Conscious of the fact that poems don’t get to stay too long on the home page, because of the increasing popularity of the site, I’m going to use this editorial slot to occasionally showcase some of our new talent.

No favouritism is intended. Just a chance for newcomers to shine a little longer.

This week, a warm welcome back, to Paul T Conneally.

Paul posted up this week, for the first time in 18 months. Paul has been a cherished source of invaluable and illuminating information on different styles of poetry, such as : Rengay, Haiku & Haibun.
Two of my favourite of Paul’s postings, shown here :

An Own Goal

that as they loved each other
they would also love the same things
he took her in place of his brother
to watch the match

what a catch
the guys on row twenty-five
would think

a girl
that loved football and him
and not bad looking either

it was a mistake
she hated it and soon realised
that she hated him too

an own goal
the wind somehow colder
around his legs

© paul t conneally

By Grandad’s Bed

mustard gas started it
his death a reward for running away under age
to the trenches for king and country

years of decorating inside and out
the council houses of Sheffield

saturday afternoon
mum runs a comb through his silver-grey hair
loud shouts to the radio of play up you owls

painter’s lung
the bottle of oxygen
by grandad’s bed

© paul t conneally

Source: http://footballpoets.org/news/2004/06/10/welcome-back-paul-t-conneally/