J. P. Dullahan Biography

It's never the memories,
It's that hoarde of feelings
Leaves me empty of tears now,
Until my eyes are like stones,
...

Between day's start and end
Life's prosaic, dear friend -
A poem each day
Keeps drabness at bay,
...

A poet longs for his to be
A love as strong as death - we crave
A Song of Songs, of jealousy
Unyielding as the grave -
...

In wakeful dreams and nights full of longing
Our lips touch, and I feel the subtle flame
Beneath your skin quiver and become fire;
And every moment we're apart, though none
...