Poems in Publications

'Spine' was inspired by a trip to the Isle of Lewis, Outer Hebrides.

Published in an anthology by Fife Writes on the theme Wild! '23

In time for Stanza - Scottish International Poetry Festival 2023

Spine

unending, narrow, winding,

bereft of ribs.

a bony road that nowhere leads

and where no-one lives

(though a whole people did)

but sheep once built to run up cliffs

now bow,

bog-steeped

in these mizzled heaths,

craving grave destination,

release

to where trees once were,

windswept, covered

richer earth

before.

lone spindles, the birches weep

for those great forests,

ancient woods

which would have outlived all of this,

once.

when the spine had ribs.

Published in Magic Journey, Kelso Writers new anthology, July '22

illustration by Cate: 'Flying Basil'  

How To Fly a Dog

First, select your dog with care:

forswear large breeds with much hair,

they’ll slow you down.

Favour low centre of gravity,

compact hound -

no Terrier with large derriere -

but one, aerodynamic,

that likes tricks and play

(for instance, small Collie)

Obviously best on a windy day.

A mutt of correct disposition

will adopt a position,

bat-winged, paws outstretched

taking ‘fetch’ to new heights.

And, if not Hell bent,

reward him well on descent -

unless, unheeding, too clever,

he has Heaven’s scent

and stays up forever....

then you’ll be needing another.

The above also featured in'Text Seeds & Random Weeds' Exhibition:

New drawings, paintings & writing by Cate L Ryan, @ Old Gala House, Galashiels

Published in 'Borderlands',  Borders Writers' Forum Anthology, November '21 : 

On Winds, Crossing 

Sirocco winds catch hold

the folded lines,

ink wet 

when inside paper wings

I sent;

the words you've heard,

said times before, 

true yet, 

rewritten: 

A kind of amulet,  

link to reach

your elusive continent - 

impossible divide?

I, outside,

imagine paper chased

on desert winds,

see small wings 

crossing. 

Sea Change           

First light:

the changing sea,

white-flecked 

in winds’ cold blast,

quickens to

the milky horizon.

I hug this day; 

reflections

of snow-pillows 

and leaden down.

You, 

a whisper away.

Emerging, fragile 

traces 

of limbs, minds,  

new entwined,

finding

we dare to hold.

Writing on the Wall

I don't know what I'm doing here:

consuming emptiness, I fear

I put on stones

filling these hollow holes of bones.

Into the salt-well I fall

and rise, a rolling kernel soul,

and hit the wall.

Your words - still written there in stone -

like prayers, echo my own.

The above published in The Eildon Tree magazine, 2019

Steall Falls, Glen Nevis

Where water falls,

earth embraces,

meandering

through magic places;

thin guardian

of thoughts

secret and sacred.

Element of the deadly,

equally, sublime:

evanescent as time.

What tears pooled

into this well,

now shedding?

through cooled igneous rock

slow bleeding,

in and out of stone

unyielding,

its story yet to tell -

like water in the glen

at Steall, ever falling. 

'Steall Falls, Glen Nevis' in Nevis Ensemble, Lochan Sketches project 2020.

The poem was the starting point in a collaboration with composer, Suzanne Parry & cellist and vocalist, Joanne Stark.

Composition 'Steall Falls, Glen Nevis' broadcast on BBC Radio Scotland 2020.