A Little Patrick Kavanaugh On St. Patrick's Day

 

PEACE

 

And sometimes I am sorry when the grass
Is growing over the stones in quiet hollows
And the cocksfoot leans across the rutted cart-pass
That I am not the voice of country fellows
Who now are standing by some headland talking
Of turnips and potatoes or young corn
Of turf banks stripped for victory.
Here Peace is still hawking
His coloured combs and scarves and beads of horn.

Upon a headland by a whinny hedge
A hare sits looking down a leaf-lapped furrow
There's an old plough upside-down on a weedy ridge
And someone is shouldering home a saddle-harrow.
Out of that childhood country what fools climb
To fight with tyrants Love and Life and Time?





Poetry by countryfog
Read 963 times
Written on 2014-03-17 at 13:25

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Ferenc Inigo Beck
One of the characteristics of pure love....Nostalgia
This one returns yesterday..
2014-03-19


Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
All of us. Good poem.
2014-03-18


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
I agree with Kavanaugh. I too am sorry for the loss of the simple innocent way of living and thinking as the men he describes. There is a memory here that I long for but know
"you can never go home again" thanks for finding this gem and sharing it. My Friend.
2014-03-18



This poem is lovely. I also have never heard of Patrick Kavanaugh, but I had a professor in college for a short time by the name of James Kavanaugh, who wrote beautiful poetry. I wonder if they are related. Enjoyed this. :)
2014-03-18



I hadn't heard of this poet either, countryfog, so many thanks for the introduction. And a very happy St Patrick's Day from all at BirdBrains! :>)
2014-03-17


Brian Oarr
I confess I've never heard of Patrick Kavanugh before, CF ... until now ... and I like what I've read ... thnx for the post. :-)

Brian
2014-03-17