Trish Bennett
Poetry // The Raucous of Wings / The Slip

époque press
pronounced: /epƏk/
definition: /time/era/period

Trish Bennett is a border bandit from County Leitrim who's settled herself into a bee loud glade in Fermanagh.  She writes about the shenanigans of her family, and other creatures.  Sometimes, she rants.

Bennetts’s won, or been placed in over a dozen poetry competitions in the past few years, including The Allingham, North West Words, The Percy French, Head Stuff, Bailieborough, and The Bangor Literary Journal. She’s won The Leitrim Guardian Literary Award for poetry twice. Bennett's been awarded a General Arts Award by the Arts Council of Northern Ireland in conjunction with the National Lottery Fund in 2019 to aid work on her debut poetry collection.  She's a Professional Member of the Irish Writers Centre.

 

Of the poems included here, Trish says:

 

‘The Slip’, was one of my first poems, written in those early days of Motherhood when I was still unsure of myself as a Mother, feeling guilty, no matter what I did. When my daughter slipped, I had her out within seconds, and yet at the time, those seconds seemed like hours. In my memory, time slowed against my frenetic pace.
I can still see her floating underwater,
so graceful, whilst I’m in a panic to
get to her.  

 

I live in rural countryside near Lower Lough Erne, in County Fermanagh, close to the sites of two old airbases and an airfield, Castle Archdale, LEYC
at Kiladeas, and St Angelo’s, where the Catalinas and Sunderlands flew from during WWII.  I love the sound of the Catalina's engines when she flies over our house.  Last Autumn, when the sky was alive with wings, of one sort, or another,
I was driven to write '
The 'Raucous
of Wings’.