I wait for red lights up ahead,
Down tunnels dark where the silence said
‘Hold on another second, or two, or three –
it is worth the wait if the wait is for me’.
And so I sit and wait for you.
I wonder if your heart is full
And if that fullness keeps you away;
If it is the reason that I must wait
With just the fruit I have picked as a friend –
Perhaps a ‘delay’ is just code for the end.
Regardless, I wait because the silence said to me:
‘Hold on another second, or two, or three’.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, October 2021


One for sorrow, two for joy –
Only joy, always joy
With you and the fire
That forever lies
Beneath fingertips soft
And the bluest of skies.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, January 2021


I take off my armour of gold and silver,
A pendant chain and a ring for each finger
This is step one once all doors are closed
And the scent of today is asleep on my clothes.
My clothes are unwrapped and thrown to one side
While lace bids farewell over shoulders and thighs.
Curls are then brushed and lifted high from a neck
That gains strength as it carries the weight of my head.
A head full of thought with a face painted pink:
Paint into watercolour, then just water exists
Upon the very skin that I am learning to treasure,
A bare, blank canvas built for love and for pleasure.

Perhaps it is armour enough on its own,
Perhaps dressing up is no longer a home.
I can smile with lips that don’t have to be kissed
For my heart to be reminded that it does, in fact, exist.
Skin in all glory, in both day and the night.
My own force of nature, my own source of light.
‘Armour is strongest when not made of gold’ –
A truth to be remembered, forever spoken, forever told.

By Lucy O’Farrelly October 2020


I walk alone on gentle waves
That I built for myself as the old ones came
And went like the breeze that kissed feather wings
As the sun poured gold upon silver rings.
This breeze was still on the day you left,
On the day I was born, it seems, once again.
It was a day a new path found peace in itself.
‘Gentle’ it said, ‘Be kind to yourself’.

A path of new waves where along each shore
Grows the hands I hold now more than ever before –
They are the hands of my thoughts,
My own dreams and my hopes,
The ones that reoccur
And the ones that don’t.
They are the hands that build bridges
Across such gentle waves,
Towards a petal land where
Only kinder thoughts are framed.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, October 2020


Peace keeper
of the storm in a teacup.
Water spilling over onto
A nest of crimson curls
That rest sleepily upon your neck
Like maple leaves in the wind,
Like the wandering traveller
Who lays against the wisest Birch tree.

I see the wreckage of the silent storm
within my fingerprints,
A thousand sinking ships
Caught in empty hands –
There is subtle sinking
In your hair,
In your eyes,
freckles like designer debris.

Perhaps sinking is safe after all.
Perhaps sinking lets the
Softest ships sail
To new waters,
A new chapter
For the peace keeper to cherish.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, September 2020

Almond Blossom

– Inspired by the Vincent Van Gogh painting –

An intricate growth towards cyan breeze.
Petal-soft skin in the wind.
Follow the scent of honey towards your shelter,
Along decorated branches hosting all glory, all sun.
A bud. A beginning. And many in bloom.
I hope one day to wander freely inside
The paper-thin walls of the blossom tree,
To give strength to the nature which beholds me.
The flowers shall hang to my hair,
The branches in rings on each finger
And the scent embedded in heart and in home.
A work of true art and a work of true hope.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, August 2020

Counting Sheep

They told me to count sheep as the full moon glows,
as the night birds sing and the dark is our home.
A time when the sky is so proudly navy blue
And a piece of my mind pays homage to you.
Although eyes were closed and the house was at peace,
Like the storm in a teacup we left out of reach.
A dream started running through veins and through heart –
The same one you painted for me at the start.
At the start of the day when the sun was so modest,
With our hands intertwined as we strolled through the forest.

I told you I wished for an iris plant of my own
And you whispered that only sun is needed for growth.
And rain in the form of those sweet laughter tears
And love in the form of the upcoming years
That we have not laid eyes on, yet are guaranteed gold
To be full of those stories that are meant to be told.
Stories to fill modest days and navy nights,
To make every dark thought one that is bright.
So when the full moon glows I no longer count sheep:
I think of you and I am always at peace.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, July 2020

Naked Eye

Humble hearts so very intertwined,
Like ivy on an evergreen, ever-growing vine.
Intertwined with the mother of nature,
Our ‘Glorianna’, our contemplator.
A bond built upon a touch so fine
It is out of reach to the naked eye.
Eyes so naked yet immaculately dressed
With the wind and the sea and the strongest tempests.
The prints on our fingertips always seem
To match the inner rings of the grandest oak tree.

Pebble tinted nails and maple-kissed lips,
The curve of the moon and the curve of your hips.
Cells like petals in the rain fall,
And above only gold glowing down on us all.
Your hair on your neck like the sweet-pea stems
Curling round upon branches they now call their friends.
It’s a wonder of nature and it’s the wonder of you
That gives life to even the smallest acts we do.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, July 2020


Be a child of the sun
in the words you speak,
A keeper of the storm
In the peace you hold
And a piece of young Cupid
In the love you give
To the moon, to the stars
And every heart that lies beneath them.

Be extraordinary in the
Ordinary things you do.
Make moulds and break moulds.
Make bonds and cherish bonds.
As we dance we gain such strength,
A strength to be shared with the world.

Paint wishes with fingertips,
End war with song.
Child, touch others with the
Warmth of your heart
And the warmth of your soul.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, July 2020

A Safer Land

Take yesterday’s pain and yesterday’s sorrow,
And teach your children how to make a better tomorrow.
A better tomorrow where the vulnerable are protected,
Where everyone is safe and everyone is respected.
A home that feels just as a home should,
Where those different to you are still your neighbour, still good.
A land we all share where suffering is dormant,
Where all voices are heard and no one is silent.
No silence as all of our classrooms and buses,
Our streets and our roads and our hearts with their pulses,
Will be full of the noise that equality makes;
The sound of those struggling taking centre stage.
Their voices are a sound that always matters,
It should always be heard, never left in tatters.
Help to amplify their voices and magnify their views,
As we work to become kinder, to be better, to be new.
Be consistent in standing up for those in need,
In making a difference and fighting for belief.
Change is essential so that in later years,
A time when your children’s children are here,
The world will be better because everyone will finally understand,
The importance of being kind in building a safer land.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, June 2020

Artist Palette

When the artist painted the world,
he noticed the colours first.
For life itself is a palette sea
and the artist craved a vibrant home.

He began with chestnut affectionate and warm
for eyes to trust with spirit and hope.
Then, a darker shade for hanging waves
that frame the finest masterpiece I know.

This masterpiece, otherwise known as your smile,
is something formed from earnest work;
work by an artist with fingertips at peace
and an intention similar to my own.

Our intention is to share a love,
an art built upon a truth:
that you are a treasure in the form of a being
and more precious than the work of the world.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, May 2020

Peace at Last

Finally, after many a silver moon
and many a summer breeze,
I feel at peace.
I feel at peace with weather’s changes,
winter’s friends
and summer’s faces.
Content with the laurel leaf crown
upon my head,
lavender blue.
heartbeat red.
Red in the love I call my own,
blue in the sky I make my home,
the safest one I shall ever know.
Finally, after many a silver moon
and many a summer breeze,
I feel at peace.
I feel at peace with the taste of serenity
and the kinder words I have learned to speak.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, April 2020


You are the sun on my temples,
a glow of gold,
to flow through streams
that paint my fingertips
with fishtail strokes.

Seashell nails and worker’s hands,
to grace a heart,
built from woven time,
a mine,
dug deep to make a home.

By Lucy O’Farrelly, April 2020