My Published Poems


He’s known as Flash and is often seen
Around this town.
It seems like he’s always been
Around this town.

He pulls his cart piled high with scrap
Around this town.
Come summer, winter, autumn, spring
He’s round this town.

A useful service he performs
Around this town.
Collecting junk from many homes
Around this town.

Anything that sells for cash
From round this town.
What would we do without our Flash
Around this town.

© Moragh Carter
December 2010
Published in ‘Here and Now’ – United Press Ltd.

Note: Flash is the nickname of the well-known rag-and-bone man in my home town.


Fluff an’ Stuff

It hides in every corner,
Behind the bed and chair.
It’s found behind the sofa;
Fluff gets everywhere.

Furniture removal
Reveals its hiding place.
Nowhere left for it to hide,
Now it shows its face.

It’s all light and fluffy
Like silver candy floss.
Where it comes from no one knows;
All that fluff an’ stuff.

© Moragh Carter
(October 2011)
Published in ‘In The Mind’s Eye’ – United Press Ltd.


Flower Town

Come early spring, green fingers toil
To get the seeds all sown;
Bulbs are planted, shrubs are trimmed
And lawns are neatly mown.

The litter’s cleared; a lick of paint
To brighten up the Square;
Our town’s ablaze with colours bright
With flowers everywhere.

Hanging baskets draped with blooms,
Their colours all aglow.
And everywhere the eye can see
Are tubs that overflow.

The judges visit unannounced.
They’ve come here to assess:
“Is this the town, of all we’ve seen,
“That’s better than the rest?”

Our town’s so proud; again we’ve won
The best small town award.
Our hearty thanks to all the folk
Whose work won this reward.

© Moragh Carter
December 2011
Published in ‘Home Sweet Home’ – United Press Ltd.



My life was a good one, with love and good care,
But restless I was, wondering “What’s over there?”.
I saw the gate open and, beyond it, the road
That led into town by the river that flowed.

I jumped at the chance to explore on my own,
To go out and find all those places unknown.
Past houses and hedgerows, and telegraph poles;
Greeting old friends who were out for their strolls.

Down by the station it started to pour.
A train stood there waiting so I jumped in a door,
Glad to to find shelter from the wind and the rain,
But just then the train started moving again.

The miles sped on by and I found to my cost
That, in the place I alighted, I was totally lost.
A lady approached, read the tag that I wore.
“Ashley, you mut, I’ll take you home to your door.”

At the end of the day when all’s said and done,
Though the journey was good and the adventure was fun,
Grass is not always greener away from your home
And it’s nice to get back, and no more to roam.

© Moragh Carter
January 2012
Published in ‘Pastures New’ – United Press Ltd.


Festive fun

My little camper van is red;
The sky above is brilliant blue;
The grass around me vibrant green;
My friends are dressed in every hue.

Above me shines the golden sun,
Playing hide ‘n’ seek with puffs of white,
As little clouds speed ’cross the sky
Causing constant change of light.

Flags of red, white, blue and green,
From flagpoles tall, unfurled, they fly.
Tugged by winds, they twist and turn
In silhouette against the sky.

As night draws in the colours fade,
Replaced by lights of softer hue;
The orange glow of camp fire flames,
The silver light of harvest moon.

The dawn brings skies of pink and gold:
Grey clouds are gathering in the west.
The brown earth’s turned to mud by rain,
But nought can quench the revellers’ zest.

© Moragh Carter
February 2012
Published in ’It’s A Colourful Life’ – United Press Ltd.


Fleeting Thoughts

He stares at the paper before him
A sheet that’s bereft of a mark.
The words fail to come though he seeks them;
The page, white and clean, stares him back.

Ideas come and go like a sea mist
Often fading before they’re set down.
He grabs one and sets it on paper
Before it escapes in the dawn.

Another drifts by and is captured;
To catch it he has to be quick.
But once it’s set down in his notebook
It can no longer escape.

Words start to take shape on the paper;
Get moved and changed round till they fit.
Slowly his poem emerges,
Taking form as it grows bit by bit.

The words are now coming together.
The form’s taking shape on the sheet.
A word change, a comma inserted,
One more nudge and his poem’s complete.

© Moragh Carter
September 2012
Published in “Through The Eyes Of A Poet”
(United Press Ltd)


All Change

Once, amidst the steam and grime,
These engines puffed and hissed.
From far and wide they came and went:
By some they’re sadly missed.

Diesels came and stole the show,
And steam was put to bed.
Then came the high-speed trains, and so
The past has now been shed.

Today these trains have found new homes
With those who love them dear.
At rail museums, loving care
Is lavished with good cheer.

Their former glory now restored,
They puff and hiss again,
As joyous passengers embark
On rides aboard the train.

© Moragh Carter
January 2013
Published in ’Homeland’ – United Press Ltd.



2 Responses to My Published Poems

  1. Ah, Dear Mo!! This work is delectable! I heard a person from the Midwest refer to Stone Mountain, Georgia, as “just a big ole ugly rock” a number of years ago and started paying particular attention to folks who DO see the beauty that surrounds us in our seemingly ordinary lives — you have arrived in the “top ten” of those appreciators. Once again, thank you for finding me. Bill

  2. moraghsblog says:

    Thank you, Bill, for your kind comments.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s