|
|
 |
|
|
| |
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.
And I think of you walking along a headland
Of green oats in June,
So full of repose, so rich with life -
And I see us meeting at the end of a town
On a fair day by accident, after
The bargains are all made and we can walk
Together through the shops and stalls and markets
Free in the oriental streets of thought.
O you are not lying in the wet clay,
For it is a harvest evening now and we
Are piling up the ricks against the moonlight
And you smile up at us - eternally.
Patrick Kavanagh
| Submitted Date |
: |
Friday, January 03, 2003 |
|
|
Read poems about / on: june, summer, together, smile, green, memory, mother, life, angel, shopping
|
|
 |
|
|
|
Comments about this poem (In Memory Of My Mother
by
Patrick Kavanagh
) |
|
|
Andrew Hoellering (2/8/2009 4:14:00 AM)
|
|
|
|
If you enjoyed this poem, I think that you will also love George Barker's poem 'Sonnet to My Mother' which concludes with the amazing lines:
And so I send o all my faith and all my love to tell her
That she will move from mourning into morning.
The sonnet is available on line, thanks to google.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reei Tioti (9/17/2007 5:01:00 AM)
|
|
|
|
I love your poem..It reminds me of my loving mum who passed away sometimes in March 2004...thanks for the wonderful poem
|
|
|
|
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|
 |
|
Poets
