Áine's late mother's influence helps her win Joe Drennan Writing Competition

Áine O’Neill has won this year’s Joe Drennan Writing Competition.

Áine holds a BA in English from Trinity College and recently completed a master's in creative writing with DCU. Áine was also the inaugural Poet in Residence for Toastmasters International in 2021/2022.

She is currently writing her first book, The Lost Piano, Which is dedicated and inspired by her late mother’s life.

She said: “I was struck by the theme of the competition which was ‘the most impactful relationship in your life’.

“My late mother had a huge influence on me and my writing from early childhood. I used to sell my poems and stories to her as a child for five pence each! I always remember building the fire with her in the mornings when my older siblings were gone to school.

“My poem is inspired by Seamus Heaney's famous poem When all the others were gone to Mass. Even though my mam has passed away I have nominated her as custodian of my writing such was her huge influence on my life. Every time I read or write a poem, I still feel her presence with me.” Laois Pride, who are the organisers of the competition, had invited submissions from people who live in Laois and surrounding areas for the second annual writing competition in honour of Joe Drennan who was from Mountrath.

The competition commemorates Joe’s life and pays tribute to his legacy as a journalist with a passion for social justice and enhancing a wider understanding of marginalised communities.

This year the theme was selected to mark the tenth anniversary of the Yes Equality campaign that won marriage equality referendum.

Entrants were required to produce a piece of writing (essay, short story, poem) on the theme of ‘The Most impactful Relationship in my life.’ 

 The Light In The Embers For Mam 

The hall door closed, they were gone to school.

Then, at last it was me and you.

I donned my apron, felt ten foot tall, 

as we swept the embers from the fireplace wall.

Crouching together with yesterday's news, 

 all twisted and wrung, 

 before handing to you the inked papers and lumps of coal,

 the old sweet wrappers all bunched in rolls.

So when you rested here that night, 

with your lips frozen blue and your hands fastened tight, 

I stood at the hearth where the fire still holds, 

 where the twigs still crackle and the flame still glows and saw us crouched on the varnished floor, 

 together then and forever more.***