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Kilaldriffe’s hill.

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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

and turn of Irish phrase abides

 

– We had the day for it –

 

©Copyright Fergus Carty 2020

One Comment

  1. Kusum says:

    Glad to read Gion’s poem after a long break.
    He has a unique turn of phrases which is interesting.
    Happy New Year
    Kusum

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