James Baravore

Celtic Pattern Illustration

lIMERICKS POETRY PROSE

Celtic Pattern Illustration

This collection of Poetry, prose and ​song from the last 25 years, is ​effectively a record of my thoughts and ​emotions. Written while living, working ​and playing music from my Yorkshire - ​Irish perspective. It ranges from ​humorous to melancholy, fact to fiction.

Celtic Pattern Illustration

About the Author


Hi, My name is James Baravore. I’m second ​generation Irish.

My parents came from Wicklow and Dublin. ​Finding life stymied in Ireland they moved to ​England in the 1950's. They left along with many ​others on the

‘cattle boat’ bringing the first two of my sisters ​in their arms.

I was born in Halifax, Yorkshire. A northern ​industrial town cradled by a chequered blanket ​of valleys, hills, black drystone walls and ​weather.


This collection of Poetry, prose and song from ​the last 25 years, is effectively a record of my ​thoughts and emotions. Written while living, ​working and playing music from my Yorkshire - ​Irish perspective. It ranges from humorous to ​melancholy, fact to fiction.


I have left the words in their original form, ​resisting the temptation to change in retrospect. ​After all, that would be today’s me, a different ​me from the one who wrote them. They may ​stand or fall as they are.


The writing to date was private and unpublished ​except; ‘second Generation’.

This being my first attempt at a competition ​managed to be selected and published for a ​YMCA anthology in the 1990's. It was also set to ​music by

Peter Lane and has formed part of our set list ​for 20 years.

I hope you enjoy them and they raise a thought, ​smile, frown or tear as has my journey so far.

All the best

Jim.



White Fog Illustration

From the book

Porter

Why is the froth on the Porter,

So keen to come to the top?

When there’s so many people around ​here,

Determined to polish it off!

Obese

A word

Devised by those

With contracted

Abdomen and

Mind

Ireland
Water Drops Background

Driving Wind and Rain

By James Baravore

The driving wind and rain makes me strong,

For home turf fires and family life I long.

Though these dreams are all lost memories, I travel on again.

Silently I wander through;

The driving wind and rain.


Born in Wicklow Erin, hill farming in the blood.

Lost his mother early, doctor did all he could.

A rugged country infant his rosy cheeks of flame.

His guardians and playmates were;

The driving wind and rain.


A Prince of Glenmalure, Wicklow man you see.

Through a sudden twist of fate an orphan soon to be.

Packed off to the city, with others to remain.

No longer is he cradled by;

The driving wind and rain.


School right in the town leads the infant into youth,

No more a country squire but an urchin wise and cute.

Learning hard and fast to use his fists and brain,

He walks a distant path from;

The driving wind and rain.




Events

Live at The Cross Keys Siddal

3 Whitegate, Halifax,

HX3 9AE

Saturday 26th October 2024

15.00 - 15.30

Signing copies of my book of Poems, Prose and ​songs, "Second Generation."

At Limestone Books

Settle, North Yorkshire.

A great morning.






Get in touch

phone

07900 160159

email

jamesbaravore@gmail.com

White Celtic Triquetra Knot