Seamus Heaney

Poems by Seamus Heaney : 27 / 39
Rite Of Spring - Poem by Seamus Heaney
So winter closed its fist
And got it stuck in the pump.
The plunger froze up a lump
In its throat, ice founding itself
Upon iron. The handle
Paralysed at an angle.
Then the twisting of wheat straw
into ropes, lapping them tight
Round stem and snout, then a light
That sent the pump up in a flame
It cooled, we lifted her latch,
Her entrance was wet, and she came.
Poems by Seamus Heaney : 27 / 39
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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Seamus Heaney's Other Poems
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Dreams
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Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe
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Caged Bird
Maya Angelou
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If
Rudyard Kipling
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Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Robert Frost
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A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
Hmm I
Is it just me, or is Heaney dealing in a thinly veiled metaphor...? ? (Report) Reply
Like Susan below I did wonder about the last bit of this poem, especially with a title like the Rite of Spring, very symbolic. (Report) Reply
Wonderful poetry. Each line is a gem. Loved it. (Report) Reply
The water-trough struggle- keep the pipes ice free or haul water. Winter has its plagues... thankfully there is that beautiful sparkle of snow to keep us fond of the season. Ummmm.... that last bit- - is it just me or is that more than just a wee bit alluding to sexual matters? I preferred the simple poem about keeping the water flowing. (Report) Reply
Nicely written poem, Liked it, Wonderful. (Report) Reply
A beautifully crafted poem with rhyme, thought provoking and intriguing too. Thanks for sharing.10 points. (Report) Reply
Her entrance was wet, and she came. Nice piece of work. (Report) Reply