Publisher's Synopsis
At seventy-five years young and going strong, I have an abundance of memories with no hint of senility. I carry memories from my childhood, cherished memories of parental love, memories of youth and adulthood, joy and sorrow, poverty and hardship. Some memories I wish would vanish, but they remain etched in my mind. A lifetime of memoirs is entwined in my poetry.
Behind all the ugliness in this world lies beauty, beautiful places, beautiful people with beautiful souls, and scenery so moving that it feels like poetry reaching out to touch you. I would give my eyeteeth to have the vision of a pheasant, with its 360-degree view. Yet I thank the Almighty for the vision I do have. Still, you might wonder what sort of intricate mind I possess. I'm Irish, and I'm very proud of it. Our wit and storytelling are not for the fainthearted. They say we Irish have the gift of the gab. Before television or even the wireless, we had "shanachies" telling their stories around the open fires. We Irish are also known for our fondness for the "auld drink", which helps to embellish our stories. A couple of my poems touch on that complicit substance. I've even had conversations with whiskey on a few occasions, though I might as well have been talking to myself. Finally, while on the subject of alcohol, I often sit alone at night writing, trying to make rhyme and reason, with a few bevvies by my side. Hence, the title of my book: Inspired by the Craitor-the "craitor" being strong alcohol like our very own poitín or mountain dew on moonshine.
