The Long Light on the Land (CD)

back
This compact disc, entitled "The Long Light on the Land", was compiled by Sligo born poet Joan McBreen. It was recorded and produced by Ernest Lyons, Ernest Lyons Production, Castlebar, County Mayo. Joan now lives in Tuam, Co. Galway. Music like The Lonesome Boatman, Chopin's Nocturne in E Flat Major and The Derry Air are played in the background while Joan reads poems like White Boat in Clear Blue Water, The Broken Swing and The Peace-keeper. Local places of interest referred to include Rosses Point and Lissadell, Co. Sligo. All the voice recordings were made at Renvyle House Hotel, Renvyle, Connemara, County Galway, Ireland. Much of the recorded poetry is set in the West of Ireland.

All Royalties from sales of this CD and Joan's other publications go to Cancer Care West, University College Hospital, Galway.

Optain a Copy

To purchase a copy of The Long Light on the Land please contact:
Claddagh Records, Dame House, Dame Street, Dubin 2, Ireland
Phone: 353 1 7693664 / Shop Phone 6770262
Fax: 353 1 7693664
email: wholesale@crl.ie

Produced by Ernest Lyons and Joan McBreen

Ernest Lyons Productions, Clondeash, Castlebar, County Mayo, Ireland.
+ 353 (0) 949024914
naturalambience@oceanfree.net

Permission to record poetry is granted by:

Salmon Publishing Limited, County Clare, Ireland. www.salmonpoetry.com
Story Line Press, Oregan, USA. www.storylinepress.com

Publications

• Winter In The Eye
  "Winter In The Eye"
  New & Selected Poems by Joan McBreen
  
  
• The White Page
  "The White Page"
  Twentieth Century Irish Women Poets
  
  
• A Walled Garden In Moylough
  "A Walled Garden In Moylough"
  Poems by Joan McBreen
  
  
• The Wind Beyond the Wall
  "The Wind Beyond the Wall"
  Poems by Joan McBreen

All publications are available from Salmon Publishing | Buy Now

Winter Light at Lissadell
Trees are the same
as in my childhood ­
oaks, rowans and silver birch.
Winter light is still
shining over water,
bent grass and Knocknarea.

But the people I knew
are gone.
Purser's Constance and Eva
stare out from a canvas.
The ghosts of my parents
pick bluebells at Lissadell.

Clouds lift over Ben Bulben.
Other children run across
the great lawns
and through the house,
their cries echo
an earlier splendour.

The light. The weather. Now.

Joan McBreen