This was written as I reflected on both the good and sad times of life and the constant grown that occurs within.

I see this women frozen in memory. She invokes a longing, almost haunting desire to recapture youth. An age of innocence and lost love kind of thing, wispy and dreamlike.

I love music, especially violin music, but when I hear the gypsy violin something magical happens to me. All I have to do is close my eyes and I am amid the gypsies. I can almost smell their campfire and feel the music luring, tempting, craving - dance, dance, please dance for me.

Have you ever walked beside the ocean and felt a need to be part of the waves, the sea air; to be part of their essence? This poem describes that yearning.

The songs of nature have often held us intrigued. In this poem, a glimpse into the power and beauty of the sea's swirling depths is offered. Listening to the gentle pulsing of the waves can often bring about sweet remembrance or even connect us with the mysteries of nature that have long been lost.

Some of us remember our dreams vaguely, some not at all. And some of us, it seems, are haunted by our dreams.

Michael says this poem describes a reoccurring dream of his. He has little idea what it means, and suggests that any message will probably be interpreted differently by each person who reads it. And that is certainly as it should be.

But one thing, at least, is clear and needs no interpretation: Michael has very vivid, very eerie dreams.

What is it you feel when you feel nothing? When you know you can't make a difference. When daily interaction with the world is just biding time. When the person in the mirror isn't even you. To me, it feels like I'm faceless.

This is a long poem that tells a story of a very short event in my life. The actual event didn't last more than a minute, yet it touched me very deeply and in many different directions. It's about hearing the sound of a crashing airplane and the emotions it stirs up within. The morning after this event occurred, it was on the news that hundreds of calls flooded the local airports complaining of low flying aircraft. All airports confirmed that no aircraft were in the area at that time.

This poem screams from my life experiences, pleading to be shared.

My inspiration for this poem is my love for a country and its people. May God Bless Northern Ireland.