Patrick Kavanagh

Remembering one of our greatest Irish poets. Shared with kind permission and co-operation of Jonathan Williams Literary Agency and The Patrick Kavanagh Centre

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From 'In Memory of My Mother' 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./ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #COVIDー19 #Covid_19ireland #ShineYourLight #Mother #Mothers

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ We have tested and tasted too much, lover -/ Through a chink too wide there comes in no wonder./ But here in this Advent-darkened room/ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ Where the dry black bread and sugarless tea/ Of penance will charm back the luxury/ Of a child’s soul, we’ll return to Doom/ The knowledge we stole but could not use./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ And the newness that was in every stale thing/ When we looked at it as children: the spirit-shocking/ Wonder in a black slanting Ulster hill,/ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ Or the prophetic astonishment in the tedious talking/ Of an old fool, will awake for us and being/ You and me to the yard gate to watch the whins/ And the bog-holes, cart-tracks, old stables where Time begins./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ O after Christmas we’ll have no need to go searching/ For the difference that sets an old phrase burning -/ We’ll hear it in the whispered argument of a churning/ Or in the streets where the village boys are lurching./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ And we’ll hear it among simple, decent men, too,/ Who barrow dung in gardens under trees,/ Wherever life pours ordinary plenty./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ Won’t we be rich, my love and I, and please/ God we shall not ask for reason’s payment,/ The why of heart-breaking strangeness in dreeping hedges,/ Nor analyse God’s breath in common statement./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Advent’ We have thrown into the dust-bin the clay-minted wages/ Of pleasure, knowledge and the conscious hour -/ And Christ comes with a January flower./ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #January #NewYear

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘A Christmas Childhood’ My child poet picked out the letters/ On the grey stone/ In silver the wonder of a Christmas townland,/ The winking glitter of a frosty dawn./#PatrickKavanagh #poetry #Christmas #ChristmasDay #Ireland #Monaghan

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘A Christmas Childhood’ Cassiopeia was over/ Cassidy’s hanging hill,/ I looked and three whin bushes rode across/ The horizon - the Three Wise Kings./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry #Christmas #ChristmasDay #Ireland #Monaghan

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘A Christmas Childhood’ An old man passing said:/ ‘Can’t he make it talk’ -/ The melodion. I hid in the doorway./ And tightened the belt of my box-pleated coat./#PatrickKavanagh #poetry #Christmas #ChristmasDay #Ireland #Monaghan

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘A Christmas Childhood’ I nicked six nicks on the door-post/ With my penknife’s big blade -/ There was a little one for cutting tobacco./ And I was six Christmases of age./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry #Christmas #ChristmasDay #Ireland #Monaghan

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘A Christmas Childhood’ My father played the melodion/ My mother milked the cows,/ And I had a prayer like a white rose pinned/ On the Virgin Mary’s blouse./ #PatrickKavanagh #poetry #Christmas #ChristmasDay #Ireland #Monaghan

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From 'Christmas Eve Remembered' I see them going to the chapel/ To confess their sins. Christmas Eve/ In a parish in Monaghan./ Poor parish! and yet memory does weave/ For me about those folk/ A romantic cloak./ #PatrickKavanagh #Monaghan #Poetry #Christmas #ChristmasEve

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From 'Christmas Eve Remembered' No snow, but in their minds/ The fields and roads are white;/ They may be talking of the turkey markets/ Or foreign politics, but to-night/ Their plain, hard country words/ Are Christ's singing birds./#PatrickKavanagh #poetry #ChristmasEve

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From 'Christmas Eve Remembered' Bicycles scoot by. Old women/ Cling to the grass margin:/ Their thoughts are earthy, but their minds move/ In dreams of the Blessed Virgin,/ For one in Bethlehem/ Has kept his dreams safe for them./ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #Christmas #ChristmasEve

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From 'Christmas Eve Remembered' 'Did you hear from Tom this Christmas?'/ 'These are the dark days.'/ 'Maguire's shop did a great trade,/ Turnover double - so Maguire says'/ 'I can't delay now, Jem,/ Lest I be late in Bethlehem.'/ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #Christmas #ChristmasEve

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From 'Christmas Eve Remembered' Like this my memory saw,/ Like this my childhood heard/ These pilgrims of the North.../ And memory you have me spared/ A light to follow them/ Who go to Bethlehem./ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #Christmas #ChristmasEve

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Christmas, 1939’ O Divine Baby in the cradle,/ All that is poet in me/ Is the dream I dreamed of Your Childhood/ And the dream You dreamed of me./ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #Christmas

[Patrick Kavanagh @KavanaghWeekly]

From ‘Christmas, 1939’ O Divine Baby in the cradle,/ All that is truth in me/ Is my mind tuned to the cadence/ Of a child’s philosophy./ #PatrickKavanagh #Poetry #Christmas