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On Beauty

My love of Beauty, nurtured through the years,     

Of form and fair proportion’s served me well.    

Yet often I ask: where does my true love dwell?   

Within my soul; this heart; these eyes; or ears? 

Does she conduct the music of the spheres? 

Or, sit in silence sweet on Lakeland fell? 

Are roses’ heavenly scent bound by her spell?    

Her spirit surely lives in all that cheers.

She has no price, is far beyond compare,

Her soul’s untarnished, of pure love is cast.

Her rhythm of life is yours; speak out, you bards!

Mendacity’s disguise we’ll make threadbare; 

For Beauty is Truth, to her we must hold fast,

That she may share with all her own rewards.   

Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh, 30th June 2023


◄ Modus Operandi---Conscious Cruelty

Seek And You Will Find ►


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Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh

Sat 1st Jul 2023 23:48

Thanks all for likes and comments.

Correct John- no offence whatsoever- I'm proud of Lancashire all the way from the Duddon to the Mersey. The sound of Lancashire is the sound of home.

I usually put on my "telephone voice" when reading poetry (for what imaginary audience I know not), but I made the effort to try to be a bit more myself this time.

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Stephen Gospage

Sat 1st Jul 2023 09:04

I share your love of beauty, Uilleam, and this offbeat sonnet captures it perfectly.

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john short

Fri 30th Jun 2023 14:55

Do I detect a Lancashire accent there? No offence intended if I'm wrong.

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