Category Archives: Ireland

Ireland in Black and White Excerpt #2

Killarney National Park

Water and trees.

Every view, a meditation.

Every leaf, a tale to be uncovered.

Every stone, a love song.

Available at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1978053266/

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Ireland in Black & White Excerpt #1

From Ireland in Black and White

Photography Sam Beckett

Poetry by A.F. Winter

A tree so covered with vines
The tree disappears
But the tree remains.
I thought my love for you had gone
But love remains.

 

Available at: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1978053266/


Ireland in Black and White

A new book published today.

A collaboration between myself and Sam Beckett,

A friend that I met on my recent trip to Ireland.

Sam took the photos.

I wrote the poetry.

List Price: $19.95

8.25″ x 8.25″ (20.955 x 20.955 cm)
Black & White on White paper
220 pages

ISBN-13: 978-1978053267
ISBN-10: 1978053266
BISAC: Photography / General

Photos of Ireland in black and white. Take away color from the Emerald Isles and what remains are images, hauntingly and evocative. Areas featured in this book are Dublin, Wicklow County, the Hook Peninsula, Killarney, the Killarney National Park, and Dingle Bay.

 

To view the title, please go to:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/1978053266/


S.B. 100517

I met Sam in O’Donoghue’s

Nursing my mushroom soup and Guinness.

And listening to the pensioners playing familiar tunes.

It was cool outside and I had no desire

To leave the warm, joyful atmosphere

Created by rich food, cool stout and Irish music.

 

He brought one of the musicians a cider

And sat down at the table next to mine.

At the end of the song, he turned to me and asked,

“Are you American?”

“Yes,” I answered. “Are you Irish?”

He warmly laughed.

 

We talked for hours

About politics, and literature, and love.

Because all politics and literature

Come from love.

 

He talked about his several marriages,

And of the children he’s lost touched with,

A smile never left his lips.

I told him of my broken heart

That’s never healed.

A smile never breached my lips.

 

Sam sat back in his chair

And finished off his pint.

“All my mistakes were glorious,

Glorious and unforgettable.”

“My mistakes were just mistakes,” I  sadly smiled.

“That’s all they ever were.”

 

“Yes, but weren’t they all lovely?” He grinned.

I had another drink of my stout

Before I said, “Yes, I believe they were.”


The Leprechaun II 070517

We don’t believe in leprechauns anymore,

And that is sad for them.

We all need to be believed in.

 

No one to bother them as they ply their trade,

Cobbling their shoes for fairies’ feet.

But every once in a while,

I bet they look over their shoulder,

Thinking that they heard a person,

Creeping, sneaking up to catch them,

And demand their treasure.

After a moment,

The feeling passes.

They let out a mournful sigh,

Continuing their lonely work,

Undesired and unloved.

 

We don’t believe in leprechauns anymore,

And that is sad for us.

We all need something magical to believe in.

 

Instead, we Google our magic away,

Replacing hope and desire,

With meaningless symbols,

On lighted screens.

We have leprechauns dancing

On our souvenir shot glasses,

Which we fill to forget,

The magic we once believed in.

 

Was there a time

When we ventured

Into the dark forest alone

To capture the elusive sprite

And bring back the pot of gold

To our unbelieving parents?

 

There must have been a time

When the world was full of enchantments.

And every tree, and every leaf, and every stone

Was filled with wonder,

Waiting to be picked up

And studied as they slowly reveal

Their mysteries to us.

 

We don’t believe in leprechauns anymore,

And that is sad, so sad.

Without these lessons in

Faith and Hope and Desire,

Is it possible to truly love?