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"because it never was, never once, but then
how to explain that sometimes I can hear
the river in those first days of April, making
its way through the dusk, having learned
to speak the way I once spoke, saying
as if I didn't love you,as if I wouldn't have died for you."
from The Room in Which My First Child Slept by Eavan Boland
Source: Poetry (October 2006).
I have fallen in love with this poem. Go immediately to Poetry and read it in its entirety.
Everything in me
Wanted to bow down, to offer up,
To go barefoot, foetal and penitential
And pray at the water's edge.
This October I'm writing every day on being at home in Ireland. But on Sundays I'll be sharing the words of others... with pictures that, of course, will never do their words justice.
I never saw a man who looked
With such a wistful eye
Upon that little tent of blue
Which prisoners call the sky,
And at every drifting cloud that went
With sails of silver by.
From The Ballad of Reading Gaol by Oscar Wilde
This October I'm writing every day on being at home in Ireland. But on Sundays I'll be sharing the words of others... with pictures that, of course, will never do their words justice.
Pilgrims smiled at one another:
How good God was,
How much a loving Father!
How wonderful the punishing stones were!
Another hour and the boats will sail
Into the port of Time.
Are you not glad you came?
from Lough Derg Patrick Kavanagh
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This October I'm writing every day on being at home in Ireland. But on Sundays I'll be sharing the words of others... with pictures that, of course, will never do their words justice.
