Patrick Kavanagh


Once the Golden Book was open to me
And I read
The Answer to the Riddle
And I, an unschooled rustic
Was wise
As fool's laughter in an academy.

And my words flowed
With the waters of Life, 
Or with candle flame
Ascended dream spires.

And I carved images
In stone of Mind
That terrified
Children and pale priests of the Mass.
Scroll to Top