by Tadhg Shiels

Early morning, waking up,
To the sound of alarm bells,
I got to school feeling good,
Everything was going well.
I arrived in class and most teachers
Were being pretty fair,
I walked around breathing in,
The fresh Hammies air.
I finished all classes the day really flew,
I rest and put down my pen,
I get home and relax a bit,
Just to do it all over again.

Creation of Library

Huge thanks to Bandon Books, Bandon Library, Wilton Library, Tory Top Library, Cork County Council Library Service, students and parents for all the book donations. There’s a really great selection. Thank you also to the Principal and the Board of Management for funding the shelving and Barry the caretaker doing a great job.

Short Story by Tadhg Shiels

“Where could he be?” said Sally as she slotted the seatbelt into position. “Well, we’re checking the woods first, because that’s where we last saw him.” responded Sally’s mother. “We can put up the poster you made last night as we’re looking”. Sally had lost her pet dog Buster the day before. She wasn’t happy about it. Buster was a loyal, loving and protective dog, or as Sally described him ‘Dogtastic!’. 

The posters they put up were very basic but conveyed the necessary information. They looked around a bit when they arrived, but Sally wanted to put up posters straight away. After some time, it began to get very dark and they had to leave but Sally didn’t want to leave. She wanted to keep looking. Suddenly she heard a rustling in the leaves. “Mom, over there by the purple tree stump!”. Sally’s mother looked confused “there’s no such thing as purple trees”. They drove away but Sally was sure she saw a purple tree. 

They told Sally’s dad that they couldn’t find Buster. Sally tried to tell him about the purple tree stump, but he didn’t believe her either. Sally didn’t feel like eating her dry pork chop, bland carrots and dull potatoes. Sally knew she saw a purple tree stump, so as any eight year old should, she took matters into her own hands. 

She made sure her parents were asleep before she left. It was twelve o’clock! Sally had only ever been up this late on New Year’s Eve! She had brought a torch and a chocolate wafer bar with her. She walked down the road and shivered in the cold of the night. She started to get a bit hungry and ate the chocolate wafer bar with great speed. 

When she arrived at the woods, she wished she had saved her chocolate wafer bar. Sally was very surprised to see Buster just sitting by the same purple tree stump. “Buster come here boy!” but Buster didn’t move an inch. Sally ran right up to Buster, but he ran away from her. “Buster what are you doing?” she shouted as she chased after him. She stumbled over a log and sat on the ground long enough to realise that now all the trees were purple, and the grass was orange. The mushrooms shot up taller than the trees and ground was blue. 

She had lost Buster again, but she herself, was also lost. She turned in every direction not seeing the path she came from. Then she heard a growl. Suddenly, a giant creature came from the bushes. It had hair all over its body with sharp claws at the ends of its fingers and toes and it had a huge mouth filled with sharp teeth, but its most captivating feature was its large, beady yellow eyes. Sally stood frozen still with fear. Finally, the monster let out a massive roar. Sally felt unstuck when it roared. Sally ran and ran until she made it home. 

At home her mom and dad were waiting outside the front door and Buster was with them. “Mom! Dad!” she shouted as ran up to see them. “Sally!” they both shouted back “where have you been? We’ve been so worried” said her mom. “I was in the woods looking for Buster and saw a monster and I ran and I…and…I” she rushed the sentence out so fast that she barely had time to breath. “How did Buster get back here?”. “We’re not sure, I heard him barking and went to see him, but he was just sitting still in the garden.” 

After Sally had told them everything her parents looked very confused. Sally knew they didn’t believe her story. She tried to convince them, but they just told her to go to bed. “Buster will sleep inside tonight Sally, so you don’t need to worry about losing him again”. Buster usually slept in his kennel because Buster seemed to like it more there. When she got to bed, she couldn’t sleep. She felt an urge to stand up out of bed and go to her window. Through the window there was just the bushes that were at the edge of the garden. She starred and then she saw a pair of beady yellow eyes staring back. 

Journey to Publication -Chat with Mr. Collins about the publication of his novel The Gamal (Bloomsbury, 2013)

How a cover gets created…

The completed book jacket
Author website for promotion purposes

Poetry by Alvaro García Calvo

Mientras cae el otono

Nosotros esperamos
Envueltos por las hojos dorados
El mundo no acaba en el atardecer,
Y solomente los suenos
Tienen su limite en las cosas
El tiempo nos conduce
Por su laberinto de horas en blanco
Al patio de nvestra casa
Envueltos por la niebla incesante
Seguimes esperando
La nostalgia es vivi sin recorder
De que palabra suimos inventados

(Translated to English by the poet himself)

As Autumn Falls

Shrouded in golden leaves,
We wait,
The world doesn’t end at sunset
And only dreams
Limit themselves to things
Through a labyrinth of black hours
Time leads us on
As Autumn falls
Over our house, our patio
Shrouded in relentless fog
We wait, we wait.
Nostalgia means to live without
The word we are made of.

Poetry by Aodh Ó Gallchóir

Ours is Everlasting

My imperfect words offend the notion.
My feelings unbound, by conscious thought.
The limit of reason, no absolute for my sentiment.
Ideas untarnished by comprehension.
Your semblance grasps my helpless senses.
My heart persuaded by graces refined.
Your eyes evoke a certain wonder,
Of the gems within their depths.
I only give breathless description.
Your presence brings an eager calm.
Your nearness invites time to escape.
Your enlightened mind enlightens mine.
With every word you say,
I hear a melody.
Our youth disapproves of such grand convictions.
Only the blurry face of finite passion.
Yet the ease of feeling you compel,
Assures me of the contrary.
That what we share is without limit.
Ours is everlasting