Polly Richardson

Polly Richardson (Munnelly) Polly is a Dublin born poet now living and writing on the Dingle Peninsula, Kerry, Ireland. She has been published both nationally and internationally in many anthologies and e-zines under the surname of Munnelly and more recently Richardson. A contributing poet to US-based poetry forum Mad Swirl and Europe’s Live Encounters digi mag with poems featuring in Boston’s Nixes Mate review, Porter Gulch Review Cabrillo college US, Italian based Lotus Eater mag and member of and co-runs Navan creative writers group: The Bulls Arse. She has been heard reading at national and international poetry festivals from 2013 to 2019 including Trim’s (Meath Ireland) first poetry festival in 2019. She also has been heard at open mic nights all over Ireland and via Skype for the second time to Dallas when Mad Swirl went live launching their best of anthology 2018 in 2019. In 2017 she worked with Frisian poet and the now Netherlands Laureate Teasd Brunja in Harrlem in Amsterdam. Her debut collection Winters Breath was launched with Impspired early September 2020 and is available on Amazon . She’s currently working on her second collection.

Dingle Wilds 20 – John Street lullabies

I peel back night’s  rhythms exposing layers with lavender 
Squinting eye just about makes it to land with  star , 
there Picasso Smiles disjointly  
leaving part corner hang with crescent moon 
and I barefooted silent as lambs on a Monday 
Inhale , huger for cheese , dandelions beyond the hill
And slip into shorelines splashing sand with jazz as if hound and belly rubs 
Those moans float on seeds of Jinny – joes , disappear onto horizon 
Maybe ride crests break at Coumeenole , rolling into her sands, kneading 
Over and over as if dough . Idyllic for dispersed content to rest with waves . 


I come before you on bended knee , all of me .
Proposing life’s bareness with yours , 
  Splay  with sun indentions on sand as if crab moving sloth-ish 
the birthing  sign
 of my merging into this  parallel, wet, unplanted  words already held with umbilical 
perhaps destiny 
knew along I’d move  my way through hills to shorelines
 , resting with westerly skies 
Making lemonade in between kelp , crystals and those crumbs offered 
Dive with ganet while cloud flowers bloom matching rugged fringes theming yellow , purple , blue 
Those dips  marching theses dunes , chorusing I do , I do .


stilling with solitude, the gift.   Beautiful. Bold . Raw .Paints  harmoniously as if on blank canvas 
creating its own masterpiece with silence, silence within -  birthing as if new born 
First  ponderous look at mothers whispers dancing themselves to heartbeats in tandem . Solitude.
Precious moments branching into every capillary flowing infinitely  , beyond breath .
And nature’s bursting joy sings out marvelously . I imagine oceanic moments ,her rolling white horses galloping  to graze shores, prancing breathless at first touch to sands kissed by sun . Solitude..
When mist blankets ,and breeze blows encompassing joy where birds play and sea sprays lands last deposits from her surge as a reminder life buds even in the most rugged of places , blooming brilliant, wilding rainbows rooted , stilling with solitude, the gift . Beautiful. Bold. Raw . Do you dare to reach beyond your walls and walk completely bare , beautiful . Bold . Raw . Solitary . 

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