Short Stories

John McCullagh June 7, 2019

In the bygone days of yore Life was slower – that’s for sureEverything was in its placeGod in heaven, no rat race In the home, a nuclear familyMum and dad and baby EmilyHe’d help her and they’d be happyThough he’d never change that nappy! Dad worked hard to earn our fareMum was kindly – always […]

John McCullagh March 22, 2012

Old Meg she was a gypsy And lived upon the moors Her bed it was the brown heath turf And her house was out of doors. Her apples were swart blackberries Her currants, pods of broom Her wine was dew of the wild white rose Her book, a churchyard tomb. Her brothers were the craggy […]

John McCullagh March 6, 2012

If you feel strange using this revamped format, just join the gang!  This is my first effort at adding a story. This is a short but memorable poem by William Allingham. Four ducks on a pond, A grass-bank beyond. A blue sky of Spring, White clouds on the wing: Ah, what a small thing To […]

John McCullagh February 19, 2012

This morning I attended Mass at St Catherine’s Dominican Church, said by Fr Tumelty of Dromalane. Yesterday I got Mass in Notre Dame, Paris and the day before at Sacre Coeur, Montmartre. Congregations dwindle everywhere.