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Thanks for putting these right. Yours came last but mine are the pale reflection.
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A Few Sentences.
Moderator: Moderators - Módhnóirí
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September 02 2004, 8:04 AM
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A MPB
Thanks for putting these right. Yours came last but mine are the pale reflection. Once, as a child, out in a field of sheep/Thomas Hardy pretended to be dead/And lay down flat among their dainty shins.
In that sniffed-at, bleated-into, grassy space/He experimented with infinity/His small cool brow was like an anvil waiting For sky to make it sing the prefect pitch/Of his dumb being, and that stir he caused/In the fleece-hustle was the original Of a ripple that would travel eighty years/Outward from there, to be the same ripple/Inside him at its last circumference. |
September 02 2004, 8:30 AM
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GRMA, a GB - bhí an obair mhaslach déanta cheana féin.
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