 Seamus McDermott
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SEAMUS McDERMOTT
Seamus is originally from Co. Derry and lived in Greencastle, Co. Donegal from the age of twelve until his early twenties a lot of his poetry is influenced by nature, the shore and the sea. Seamus now lives in Convoy with his wife Mary, they have three children and five grandchildren. Seamus is an active member of ‘The Diamond Writers’ group and ‘This Writing Think’ writers group. Seamus started writing at the age of fifty two and has had a poem published in the Corncrake Magazine 2023, The Madrigal Literary Magazine February 2022, in the fifty word poem Spring, Summer, Autumn and Winter editions (2019 –2022) of Little Gems Magazine, the 11 th edition of Crossways Literary Magazine June 2021, issues 15 and 18 of The Bangor Literary Journal, and in Hidden Donegal anthology of Donegal poets 2022. Seamus has been shortlisted in the Allingham Arts Poetry Competition for 2020/2021/2022, The Bangor Literary Journal 2021 Forty Words Competition, poems highly commended in the Frances Browne Literary Festival 2021/2022, , and runner-up poem in the Bangor Literary Journal 2022 Forty Words Competition. Seamus has had a video-poem selected for screening at five international film festivals in 2021and 2022. Seamus’ first play ‘Mass Online’ was selected and produced as part of Little Acorns, An Grianan Theatre Short Plays project 2021. Seamus Mc Dermott 0877707157 seamusmcd1966@gmail.com |
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Hazel Nut Glen
On a carpet of Blue Bells, we go to pray, a mountain stream guides our way. Hand in hand I’ll show you again, the secret path through Hazel Nut Glen. And when I’m not there to gently guide, close your eyes and I’ll be at your side. By Seamus Mc Dermott |
Shoreline V
Port-a-Doris. Solid rock opens passage through solidified time. A secret bay of softened moon pebbles blinks alive. Upon earth’s skin, satin settles caressed by the palm of a yearning shore as a soft swell moulds the cupped hand of this cliffed bay. Folding kelp entangles the breath of a pulsing sea as the foaming tideline’s white lace weaves a first love with every wave. By: Seamus Mc Dermott Shoreline V - Publish in Crossways Literary Magazine June ‘21 |
Ballyness Bay
Spider webs tinkle a woven magic as the mystical
waters of Loch Altan breathe an early morning
mist from the mouth of the Bawaan River. Lichened
hieroglyphics cave the rocky sides of torrential
waterfalls where Van Gogh swirls waltz into the
salty waters of Ballyness bay. Yellow wagtails
trampoline downstream. Curlews echo in a winged
reflection across the bay, and in the hazel thicket
a pheasant pulls on a rosined bow fiddling a
spring note. A cormorant stands guard upon a
lonely rock on a small grass swept island, turning
its head on a lighthouse beam, a flash of feathers
raises the alarm and grey herons unfold in prehistoric
flight. From the bubbled beads of knotted wrack,
a necklace caresses the island, woven with
a fisherman’s stormed-up string of corks and
washed-out abandoned blue of a child’s rosary
beads. A great black-backed gull stands as a
sentinel on a tall slim pole, dotting an i in the bay.
Following the ebbing tide across a saw-wrack and
shingle path, I climb upon the cormorant’s lonely
rock, turn my head in its reflection, see my shadow
approach, spread my arms, close my eyes in a
cormorant flight, and leave my troubles in its wake.
By Seamus McDermott
Ballyness Bay - Published In Hidden Donegal anthology of Donegal poets 2022
Spider webs tinkle a woven magic as the mystical
waters of Loch Altan breathe an early morning
mist from the mouth of the Bawaan River. Lichened
hieroglyphics cave the rocky sides of torrential
waterfalls where Van Gogh swirls waltz into the
salty waters of Ballyness bay. Yellow wagtails
trampoline downstream. Curlews echo in a winged
reflection across the bay, and in the hazel thicket
a pheasant pulls on a rosined bow fiddling a
spring note. A cormorant stands guard upon a
lonely rock on a small grass swept island, turning
its head on a lighthouse beam, a flash of feathers
raises the alarm and grey herons unfold in prehistoric
flight. From the bubbled beads of knotted wrack,
a necklace caresses the island, woven with
a fisherman’s stormed-up string of corks and
washed-out abandoned blue of a child’s rosary
beads. A great black-backed gull stands as a
sentinel on a tall slim pole, dotting an i in the bay.
Following the ebbing tide across a saw-wrack and
shingle path, I climb upon the cormorant’s lonely
rock, turn my head in its reflection, see my shadow
approach, spread my arms, close my eyes in a
cormorant flight, and leave my troubles in its wake.
By Seamus McDermott
Ballyness Bay - Published In Hidden Donegal anthology of Donegal poets 2022