Patrick Kavanagh Poems
|1.||My Father Played The Melodeon||3/3/2015|
|2.||A Christmas Childhood||12/15/2014|
|3.||The Great Hunger||4/5/2010|
|9.||Having To Live In The Country||1/3/2003|
|10.||To The Man After The Harrow||1/3/2003|
|11.||Wet Evening In April||1/3/2003|
|15.||On An Apple-Ripe September Morning||1/3/2003|
|17.||Memory Of My Father||1/3/2003|
|18.||Stony Grey Soil||1/3/2003|
|19.||Canal Bank Walk||1/13/2003|
|22.||Inniskeen Road: July Evening||1/3/2003|
|23.||In Memory Of My Mother||1/3/2003|
|24.||On Raglan Road||1/3/2003|
On Raglan Road
On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
On Grafton Street in November we tripped lightly along the ledge
Of the deep ravine where can be seen the worth of passion's pledge,
The Queen of Hearts still making tarts and I not making hay -
O I loved too much and by such and such is happiness thrown away.
I gave her gifts of the mind I gave her the secret sign...
In Memory Of My Mother
I do not think of you lying in the wet clay
Of a Monaghan graveyard; I see
You walking down a lane among the poplars
On your way to the station, or happily
Going to second Mass on a summer Sunday -
You meet me and you say:
'Don't forget to see about the cattle - '
Among your earthiest words the angels stray.