Daniel Mulhall
@danmulhall.bsky.social
Retired Irish Ambassador, author, consultant, media commentator, Director, #Carlichauns.
Pinned
Daniel Mulhall
@danmulhall.bsky.social
· Nov 23
Introducing the #Carlichauns to @bsky.app. An animated children’s entertainment venture for which I am Brand Ambassador. Carlingford’s leprechauns, the Carlichauns, travel the world to deliver wishes to children. Check them out at www.carlichauns.com
The ocean wraps its surf scarf round the shoulder
of the shore. Everything’s in touch with everything else:
the sky with the sea, the wave susurrus
with the zephyr in the fuchsia & furze, the cock crowing
again & again, dawning on us
every second is now.
Greg Delanty #Irishpoetry
of the shore. Everything’s in touch with everything else:
the sky with the sea, the wave susurrus
with the zephyr in the fuchsia & furze, the cock crowing
again & again, dawning on us
every second is now.
Greg Delanty #Irishpoetry
January 8, 2026 at 12:15 PM
The ocean wraps its surf scarf round the shoulder
of the shore. Everything’s in touch with everything else:
the sky with the sea, the wave susurrus
with the zephyr in the fuchsia & furze, the cock crowing
again & again, dawning on us
every second is now.
Greg Delanty #Irishpoetry
of the shore. Everything’s in touch with everything else:
the sky with the sea, the wave susurrus
with the zephyr in the fuchsia & furze, the cock crowing
again & again, dawning on us
every second is now.
Greg Delanty #Irishpoetry
Despite the forecast’s promise,
It didn’t snow that night;
But in the morning, flakes began
To glide alright.
Not enough to cover roads
Or even hide the grass;
But enough to change the light.
Bernard O’Donoghue #IrishPoetry
It didn’t snow that night;
But in the morning, flakes began
To glide alright.
Not enough to cover roads
Or even hide the grass;
But enough to change the light.
Bernard O’Donoghue #IrishPoetry
January 7, 2026 at 5:53 PM
Despite the forecast’s promise,
It didn’t snow that night;
But in the morning, flakes began
To glide alright.
Not enough to cover roads
Or even hide the grass;
But enough to change the light.
Bernard O’Donoghue #IrishPoetry
It didn’t snow that night;
But in the morning, flakes began
To glide alright.
Not enough to cover roads
Or even hide the grass;
But enough to change the light.
Bernard O’Donoghue #IrishPoetry
Where we stood footloose, at home beyond the tribe,
More scouts than strangers, ghosts who’d walked abroad
Unfazed by light, to make a new beginning
& make a go of it, alive & sinning,
Ourselves again, free-willed again, not bad.
Seamus Heaney ‘At Banagher’
More scouts than strangers, ghosts who’d walked abroad
Unfazed by light, to make a new beginning
& make a go of it, alive & sinning,
Ourselves again, free-willed again, not bad.
Seamus Heaney ‘At Banagher’
January 6, 2026 at 9:04 PM
Where we stood footloose, at home beyond the tribe,
More scouts than strangers, ghosts who’d walked abroad
Unfazed by light, to make a new beginning
& make a go of it, alive & sinning,
Ourselves again, free-willed again, not bad.
Seamus Heaney ‘At Banagher’
More scouts than strangers, ghosts who’d walked abroad
Unfazed by light, to make a new beginning
& make a go of it, alive & sinning,
Ourselves again, free-willed again, not bad.
Seamus Heaney ‘At Banagher’
The strong geese claim the sky again
&tell us&tell us&tell us
of the many shifts&weathers
of the long-boned earth.
Blind to their huge, water-carved charts,
our blood dull to the tug of poles,
we are tuned still to the rising &dying of light
&we still share their need
to nest&to journey
Moya Cannon
&tell us&tell us&tell us
of the many shifts&weathers
of the long-boned earth.
Blind to their huge, water-carved charts,
our blood dull to the tug of poles,
we are tuned still to the rising &dying of light
&we still share their need
to nest&to journey
Moya Cannon
January 5, 2026 at 11:20 AM
The strong geese claim the sky again
&tell us&tell us&tell us
of the many shifts&weathers
of the long-boned earth.
Blind to their huge, water-carved charts,
our blood dull to the tug of poles,
we are tuned still to the rising &dying of light
&we still share their need
to nest&to journey
Moya Cannon
&tell us&tell us&tell us
of the many shifts&weathers
of the long-boned earth.
Blind to their huge, water-carved charts,
our blood dull to the tug of poles,
we are tuned still to the rising &dying of light
&we still share their need
to nest&to journey
Moya Cannon
A mocking-bird on a branch
outside the window,where I write,
gulps down a wet crimson berry,
shakes off a few bright drops
from his wing,&is gone
into a thundery sky.
Another storm coming.
Under the copper light
my papers seem luminous.
&over them I will take
ever more painstaking care
T. Kinsella
outside the window,where I write,
gulps down a wet crimson berry,
shakes off a few bright drops
from his wing,&is gone
into a thundery sky.
Another storm coming.
Under the copper light
my papers seem luminous.
&over them I will take
ever more painstaking care
T. Kinsella
January 3, 2026 at 11:10 AM
A mocking-bird on a branch
outside the window,where I write,
gulps down a wet crimson berry,
shakes off a few bright drops
from his wing,&is gone
into a thundery sky.
Another storm coming.
Under the copper light
my papers seem luminous.
&over them I will take
ever more painstaking care
T. Kinsella
outside the window,where I write,
gulps down a wet crimson berry,
shakes off a few bright drops
from his wing,&is gone
into a thundery sky.
Another storm coming.
Under the copper light
my papers seem luminous.
&over them I will take
ever more painstaking care
T. Kinsella
.. you can sense
..
From rooms to hall, rousing a restless ring
Of questions like sloughed-off abandoned leaves.
You say lie still, or open doors to find
Always before you remonstrating eyes,
Stairways of searching feet unstitching the dark,
The heart a clock regretting its lost chime.
Roy McFadden
..
From rooms to hall, rousing a restless ring
Of questions like sloughed-off abandoned leaves.
You say lie still, or open doors to find
Always before you remonstrating eyes,
Stairways of searching feet unstitching the dark,
The heart a clock regretting its lost chime.
Roy McFadden
January 1, 2026 at 5:30 PM
.. you can sense
..
From rooms to hall, rousing a restless ring
Of questions like sloughed-off abandoned leaves.
You say lie still, or open doors to find
Always before you remonstrating eyes,
Stairways of searching feet unstitching the dark,
The heart a clock regretting its lost chime.
Roy McFadden
..
From rooms to hall, rousing a restless ring
Of questions like sloughed-off abandoned leaves.
You say lie still, or open doors to find
Always before you remonstrating eyes,
Stairways of searching feet unstitching the dark,
The heart a clock regretting its lost chime.
Roy McFadden
A positive development, responding to a growing threat.
Ireland to deploy large numbers of undersea trackers to detect hostile submarines
Ireland to deploy large numbers of undersea trackers to detect hostile submarines
Project is part of effort to increase State’s ‘maritime domain awareness’ over concerns of vulnerability of subsea infrastructure
www.irishtimes.com
January 1, 2026 at 8:28 AM
A positive development, responding to a growing threat.
Past and present join
in the winter solstice.
The days stretch & we survive
with losses, yes, and lessons too,
to reap the honey of the hive
of history. The yield of what is given
insists a choice - to live, to thrive.
Peter Fallon @thegallerypress.bsky.social
in the winter solstice.
The days stretch & we survive
with losses, yes, and lessons too,
to reap the honey of the hive
of history. The yield of what is given
insists a choice - to live, to thrive.
Peter Fallon @thegallerypress.bsky.social
December 30, 2025 at 1:37 PM
Past and present join
in the winter solstice.
The days stretch & we survive
with losses, yes, and lessons too,
to reap the honey of the hive
of history. The yield of what is given
insists a choice - to live, to thrive.
Peter Fallon @thegallerypress.bsky.social
in the winter solstice.
The days stretch & we survive
with losses, yes, and lessons too,
to reap the honey of the hive
of history. The yield of what is given
insists a choice - to live, to thrive.
Peter Fallon @thegallerypress.bsky.social
… The season
seemed to stand on its head, with buds shooting
along briars. Neighbours among themselves this evening
discussed the day & the weather, concluding
that a change indeed is no bad thing,
that all the signs are for an early spring.
Paddy Bushe #IrishPoetry
seemed to stand on its head, with buds shooting
along briars. Neighbours among themselves this evening
discussed the day & the weather, concluding
that a change indeed is no bad thing,
that all the signs are for an early spring.
Paddy Bushe #IrishPoetry
December 27, 2025 at 10:01 AM
… The season
seemed to stand on its head, with buds shooting
along briars. Neighbours among themselves this evening
discussed the day & the weather, concluding
that a change indeed is no bad thing,
that all the signs are for an early spring.
Paddy Bushe #IrishPoetry
seemed to stand on its head, with buds shooting
along briars. Neighbours among themselves this evening
discussed the day & the weather, concluding
that a change indeed is no bad thing,
that all the signs are for an early spring.
Paddy Bushe #IrishPoetry
Afternoon sun on my back,
irregular slap of water on rock,
and then, a skylark.
Fine sand blown over
the hill’s top, over the lake,
swans, and the sounds they make.
Aquamarine, the colour of the sea.
Nobody to say my name,
no one to listen to me.
Joan McBreen #IrishPoetry
irregular slap of water on rock,
and then, a skylark.
Fine sand blown over
the hill’s top, over the lake,
swans, and the sounds they make.
Aquamarine, the colour of the sea.
Nobody to say my name,
no one to listen to me.
Joan McBreen #IrishPoetry
December 26, 2025 at 3:43 PM
Afternoon sun on my back,
irregular slap of water on rock,
and then, a skylark.
Fine sand blown over
the hill’s top, over the lake,
swans, and the sounds they make.
Aquamarine, the colour of the sea.
Nobody to say my name,
no one to listen to me.
Joan McBreen #IrishPoetry
irregular slap of water on rock,
and then, a skylark.
Fine sand blown over
the hill’s top, over the lake,
swans, and the sounds they make.
Aquamarine, the colour of the sea.
Nobody to say my name,
no one to listen to me.
Joan McBreen #IrishPoetry
And a Merry #Christmas from the #Carlichauns too.
December 25, 2025 at 1:54 PM
And a Merry #Christmas from the #Carlichauns too.
Outside in the cow-house my mother
Made the music of milking;
The light of her stable-lamp was a star
And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle.
…
In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,
The winking glitter of a frosty dawn.
Patrick Kavanagh from ‘A Christmas Childhood’
Made the music of milking;
The light of her stable-lamp was a star
And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle.
…
In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,
The winking glitter of a frosty dawn.
Patrick Kavanagh from ‘A Christmas Childhood’
December 25, 2025 at 12:06 PM
Outside in the cow-house my mother
Made the music of milking;
The light of her stable-lamp was a star
And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle.
…
In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,
The winking glitter of a frosty dawn.
Patrick Kavanagh from ‘A Christmas Childhood’
Made the music of milking;
The light of her stable-lamp was a star
And the frost of Bethlehem made it twinkle.
…
In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,
The winking glitter of a frosty dawn.
Patrick Kavanagh from ‘A Christmas Childhood’
Reposted by Daniel Mulhall
‘How is Ireland perceived abroad? My contribution to @newstalkfm.bsky.social’s The Hard Shoulder.
www.goloudplayer.com/episodes/how...
www.goloudplayer.com/episodes/how...
How is Ireland perceived abroad?
How is Ireland being perceived abroad? And how much are our political stances influencing it?
Joining Jonathan Healy to discuss is Larry Donnelly, Law Lecturer at UCG and Columnist with theJournal.ie...
www.goloudplayer.com
December 10, 2025 at 7:27 PM
‘How is Ireland perceived abroad? My contribution to @newstalkfm.bsky.social’s The Hard Shoulder.
www.goloudplayer.com/episodes/how...
www.goloudplayer.com/episodes/how...
Reposted by Daniel Mulhall
I had the honour yesterday of presenting a donation of 200,000 cans of baked beans to #Dublin’s Capuchin Day Centre on behalf of Stelios Philanthropic Foundation. The donation has a retail value of €300,000 & will be used in the kitchen which prepares 1,000 meals a day & in 1,450 weekly food parcels
December 18, 2025 at 10:25 AM
I had the honour yesterday of presenting a donation of 200,000 cans of baked beans to #Dublin’s Capuchin Day Centre on behalf of Stelios Philanthropic Foundation. The donation has a retail value of €300,000 & will be used in the kitchen which prepares 1,000 meals a day & in 1,450 weekly food parcels
I will be on @newstalkfm.bsky.social’s The Hard Shoulder at 4.20 pm this afternoon discussing #Trump & #Greenland.
December 23, 2025 at 4:00 PM
I will be on @newstalkfm.bsky.social’s The Hard Shoulder at 4.20 pm this afternoon discussing #Trump & #Greenland.
The same tin cup for years but the rim
never spread the hurt that touched it.
Coins glitter in its depths like foil.
The water shivers at the mildest gust.
Pitched by midges, it trembles slightly.
Seán Dunne, ‘Holy Well’
never spread the hurt that touched it.
Coins glitter in its depths like foil.
The water shivers at the mildest gust.
Pitched by midges, it trembles slightly.
Seán Dunne, ‘Holy Well’
December 23, 2025 at 9:07 AM
The same tin cup for years but the rim
never spread the hurt that touched it.
Coins glitter in its depths like foil.
The water shivers at the mildest gust.
Pitched by midges, it trembles slightly.
Seán Dunne, ‘Holy Well’
never spread the hurt that touched it.
Coins glitter in its depths like foil.
The water shivers at the mildest gust.
Pitched by midges, it trembles slightly.
Seán Dunne, ‘Holy Well’
The sounds of Ireland,
that restless whispering
you never get away
from
…
scraping tree branches,
light hunting cloud,
sound hounding sight,
a hand ceaselessly
combing & stroking
the landscape, till
the valley gleams
like the pile upon
a mountain pony’s coat.
John Montague ‘Windharp’
that restless whispering
you never get away
from
…
scraping tree branches,
light hunting cloud,
sound hounding sight,
a hand ceaselessly
combing & stroking
the landscape, till
the valley gleams
like the pile upon
a mountain pony’s coat.
John Montague ‘Windharp’
December 22, 2025 at 9:51 AM
The sounds of Ireland,
that restless whispering
you never get away
from
…
scraping tree branches,
light hunting cloud,
sound hounding sight,
a hand ceaselessly
combing & stroking
the landscape, till
the valley gleams
like the pile upon
a mountain pony’s coat.
John Montague ‘Windharp’
that restless whispering
you never get away
from
…
scraping tree branches,
light hunting cloud,
sound hounding sight,
a hand ceaselessly
combing & stroking
the landscape, till
the valley gleams
like the pile upon
a mountain pony’s coat.
John Montague ‘Windharp’
The kind of rain we knew is a thing of the past -
deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say …
our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun,
our yachts tinkling & dancing in the bay
like racehorses. We contemplate at last
shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.
Derek Mahon ‘Kinsale’
deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say …
our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun,
our yachts tinkling & dancing in the bay
like racehorses. We contemplate at last
shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.
Derek Mahon ‘Kinsale’
December 21, 2025 at 7:09 PM
The kind of rain we knew is a thing of the past -
deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say …
our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun,
our yachts tinkling & dancing in the bay
like racehorses. We contemplate at last
shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.
Derek Mahon ‘Kinsale’
deep-delving, dark, deliberate you would say …
our sky-blue slates are steaming in the sun,
our yachts tinkling & dancing in the bay
like racehorses. We contemplate at last
shining windows, a future forbidden to no one.
Derek Mahon ‘Kinsale’
It’s the whiff of memory, the memory
of memory lost, reaching down
to the deserted famine village,
breaking the hearts of ghosts
waving handkerchiefs of whitethorn
from gaping windows across the eternity
of the spangling Atlantic.
Greg Delanty #IrishPoetry
of memory lost, reaching down
to the deserted famine village,
breaking the hearts of ghosts
waving handkerchiefs of whitethorn
from gaping windows across the eternity
of the spangling Atlantic.
Greg Delanty #IrishPoetry
December 19, 2025 at 1:48 PM
It’s the whiff of memory, the memory
of memory lost, reaching down
to the deserted famine village,
breaking the hearts of ghosts
waving handkerchiefs of whitethorn
from gaping windows across the eternity
of the spangling Atlantic.
Greg Delanty #IrishPoetry
of memory lost, reaching down
to the deserted famine village,
breaking the hearts of ghosts
waving handkerchiefs of whitethorn
from gaping windows across the eternity
of the spangling Atlantic.
Greg Delanty #IrishPoetry
I had the honour yesterday of presenting a donation of 200,000 cans of baked beans to #Dublin’s Capuchin Day Centre on behalf of Stelios Philanthropic Foundation. The donation has a retail value of €300,000 & will be used in the kitchen which prepares 1,000 meals a day & in 1,450 weekly food parcels
December 18, 2025 at 10:25 AM
I had the honour yesterday of presenting a donation of 200,000 cans of baked beans to #Dublin’s Capuchin Day Centre on behalf of Stelios Philanthropic Foundation. The donation has a retail value of €300,000 & will be used in the kitchen which prepares 1,000 meals a day & in 1,450 weekly food parcels
Reposted by Daniel Mulhall
Opinions are hardening against Ireland in Britain and the US. How worried should we be? asks @danmulhall.bsky.social
Criticism of Ireland has spread across the Atlantic, too much US pharma & tech in Ireland, anti-Israel politics, OTB & EU alignment etc
www.irishtimes.com/opinion/2025...
Criticism of Ireland has spread across the Atlantic, too much US pharma & tech in Ireland, anti-Israel politics, OTB & EU alignment etc
www.irishtimes.com/opinion/2025...
Daniel Mulhall: Opinions are hardening against Ireland in Britain and the US. How worried should we be?
Criticism of Ireland has spread across the Atlantic with two sharply critical commentaries in the influential Wall Street Journal
www.irishtimes.com
December 14, 2025 at 9:32 AM
Opinions are hardening against Ireland in Britain and the US. How worried should we be? asks @danmulhall.bsky.social
Criticism of Ireland has spread across the Atlantic, too much US pharma & tech in Ireland, anti-Israel politics, OTB & EU alignment etc
www.irishtimes.com/opinion/2025...
Criticism of Ireland has spread across the Atlantic, too much US pharma & tech in Ireland, anti-Israel politics, OTB & EU alignment etc
www.irishtimes.com/opinion/2025...