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Kilaldriffe’s hill.
English Poetry, Uncategorized |
The page is spread before me
like unwrapped pristine felt
and on this sheeted wasteland white
I throw lines to draw and fold it
and tightly thereby to bind
over this old creaking frame
my shield against the wind
and shelter what there remains
it’s a cruel edged kind of sorrow
that strikes upon my memory
and no spark ignites this hearth
to warm up a heart so weary
that once and twice and thrice
had beat and pulsed for Her
and on this and that occasion
had throbbed in time with hers …
… away slink these leaden clouds
heaven’s sun shines through the chill
on the huddled tears and fears
ashiverer on Kilaldriffe’s hill
As clasping hands a coffin lower
into these spare Irish inches
from clasped hands arises prayer
a turn of Irish phrase abides
– We had the day for it –
©Copyright Fergus Carty 2020
Glad to read Gion’s poem after a long break.
He has a unique turn of phrases which is interesting.
Happy New Year
Kusum