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Aine MacAodha ~ Poetry and Lens

Aine MacAodha

My photo
Omagh, North Ireland, Ireland
Writer/poet,avid photographer with a great interest in Celtic Myths, Mysticism, crystal healing, orbs in photography, Chemtrails, the sky above and the beauty in the Irish landscape . I live in Omagh North of Ireland where the Sperrin Mountains are my inspiration in any season. I have three poetry books published titled 'Where the Three Rivers Meet' and 'Guth An Anam ~Voice of The Soul and my latest Published by Lapwing Press Belfast, 'Landscape of self'~ You can find my links at top of my blog.

Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Samhain ~ and a few poems

Samhain ~ meaning end of Summer for pagan followers, which I love, denouncing the end of Summer ~ prounounced, sowen,  symbol, black cat, Jack o lamtern, bat, ghost and moon~
Oidhche,  Halloween,  Hallows, third harvest.
Darker night are ahead. A time when the veil is thinist and a time to visit our ancestors through various modes of divination.
Associated stones for Samhain, can be Obsidian, Black Onyx and my favourite Amethyst

 AmerginAmergin of the Milesians, the first Celtic tribe of Ireland. Amergin was the chief of eight , by legend, the conquerors of the Tuatha Dé Danann. Amergin was a druid poet of supernatural ability.

Amergin's Challenge
I am a wind across the sea
I am a flood across the plain
I am the roar of the tides
I am a stag* of seven (pair) tines
I am a dewdrop let fall by the sun
I am the fierceness of boars*
I am a hawk, my nest on a cliff
I am a height of poetry (magical skill)
I am the most beautiful among flowers
I am the salmon* of wisdom
Who (but I) is both the tree and the lightning strikes it
Who is the dark secret of the dolmen not yet hewn
I am the queen of every hive
I am the fire on every hill
I am the shield over every head
I am the spear of battle
I am the ninth* wave of eternal return
I am the grave of every vain hope
Who knows the path of the sun, the periods of the moon
Who gathers the divisions, enthralls the sea,
sets in order the mountains. the rivers, the peoples

Losing shadows that follow                                       
from these troubled acres
is hard going at times.
When it’s those same shadows
you seek to understand
what it all came down to.
Three in the morning brings relief;
nature is more calmer and cools
to a creaking lullaby.
Some birds sleep sound.
The urban ones
blether through the night.
The moon solemnly gives orders
to orchestrate the night crawlers
on missions. She casts shadows
in dimly lit corners of the globe.
She’ll never be the sun,
blitzing the crops, warming
the shadows.
But she’ll always be the catalyst,
calling you back to the past.

By Aine MacAodha
first published in Thre Argotist Online.

Mise Eire
Talk to me of bogs,
of blankets on the land.
Talk to me of myths
you have at your command.
Tell me of Cu Chulainn,
the hero hound of Ulster,
the battles of the Tain Bo
and the warriors of Munster,
the progress of the firbolgs.
The De danaans on the hill
remind me of our legends
of folklore through the quill.
Talk to me of forests,
of flora and fauna there.
Talk to me of mountains
in Tyrone and in Kildare.
Tell me now of the future
of equality in the land.
Speak to me of serenity,
so the tribes can understand

(C) Aine MacAodha

Friday, 27 July 2012

New photography site

I have been working on this for some time and have finally got it into some shape or form ~
Please feel free to visit and leave a  comment, thanks Aine. Now I can get some writing done~


Wednesday, 20 June 2012

Litha ~ Summer Solstice

~ The days after Summer Solstice will again begin to  shorten and the nights long until we reach the next Solstice on the Celtic wheel, Yule.
 For me it's a time to think over the past 6 months with gratitude and I wonder what the following months will bring. I make a special effort to rise before sun rise and just welcome in the new fire festival, spend parts of the day out in the garden always finding something to do~
The word Solstice is from Latin (sol) Sun and Sistere (stand still)
Gemstones associated with Litha are Green and yellow like Jade and Yellow topaz.

~As long as the curtains open anew, there draws the breath of theatre~ Aine MacAodha

~Turn your face to the sun and the shadows fall behind you~ Maori proverb

~No one condemns the birds in the trees
for singing all sorts of songs into the air
so it should be with humans.
we should all be free to sing our own tunes~
Aine macAodha

Morning song

Rising just before sun rise
it's a special morning
the longest day of the year
afterward the daylight decreases.

The house is deadly quiet
the buzzing of the freezer
and the kettle boiling

break the silent air.
I tip toe about as if I’m going to
waken a house load of weans.

It’s the bird song that heralds
in the solstice, the dark curtain
not fully opened.

Fields mist laden and the thorn bushes
glisten in the morning dew
like lost diamonds

awaiting the eye of the magpie to
swoop in and grab. Even the crows
make a special effort on this morning.

It’s frosty for June so I pull a jumper
over my shoulders and contemplate
the song of the solstice in the air.

Wednesday, 2 May 2012

Wednesday, 21 March 2012

Ostara ~ Spring equinox

Thinking now of the seasons ahead it gladdens me to see springs fruition. Spring is a time of new growth both in the animal and plant life, renewal is all around. 

 ~ Gorse or Whin bush its Celtic name is O~Onn and the goddess Eostar are associated with Ostara of Spring Equinox.

  The thorny stems and brazen yellow flowers of the Whin bush are easily spotted across the landscapes, one of my favourite showy thorns. Welcome Spring!!

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze."
-  William Wordsworth, Daffodils

~Happy spring time~

Friday, 17 February 2012

web site updates

Just to let you know I have updated my web site with more, "Worth a look sites" found here ~ I will be adding more in due course, Aine x

updates on my web site

Tuesday, 7 February 2012

Draiocht ~ a poem

                                                                 ~ Oak Lake ~


Magic happens in the cool waters of healing wells
making the journey under clay; to offer up
cures within its life force.

I’ve seen it as winter blends its end of days
into the arrival of spring. On mountains
and boundaried fields as morning mist

Within myself when i forget the world a while
do nothing except listen to the order of things
or stare into space.

Within the lunar cycles when moon phases
stir the spirit in an ancient way; as it passes
on its journey.

Its there too on the faces of new born babies;
reddened from the delicate path taken
from womb to world, dark to light.

First published in Pirene's Fountain.