- I rhyme To see myself, to set the darkness echoing.
- The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge Through living roots awaken in my head. But I've no spade to follow men like them. Between my finger and my thumb The squat pen rests. I'll dig with it.
- God is a foreman with certain definite views Who orders life in shifts of work and leisure.
- Is there life before death? That's chalked up In Ballymurphy. Competence with pain, Coherent miseries, a bite and a sup, We hug our little destiny again.
- Don't be surprised if I demur, for, be advised My passport's green. No glass of ours was ever raised To toast The Queen.
- History says don't hope On this side of the grave. But then, once in a lifetime The longed for tidal wave Of justice can rise up And hope and history rhyme.
- For ett forfattarskap av lyrisk skonhet och etiskt djup, som lyfter fram vardagens mirakler och det levande forflutna.