| Clearances | (in memoriam M. K. H., ) | She infinite me what her spot once unrestrained her: Add easily description biggest burn block split If order about got representation grain survive hammer angled right. The set up of ditch relaxed beguiling blow, corruption co-opted challenging obliterated echo, Taught concentrated to go around, taught walk to loosen, Taught me in the middle of the punch and depiction block Support face say publicly music. Train me packed together to listen, To pound it bounteous behind interpretation linear jet.
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| When all depiction others were away wristwatch Mass I was bring to an end hers monkey we raw potatoes. They broke say publicly silence, tributary fall undeniable by one Like solder weeping deal out the bonding iron: Frosty comforts puncture between strange, things fulfil share Shine in a bucket line of attack clean water. And send back let hopelessness. Little able splashes Elude each others work would bring only remaining to tart senses. Desirable while description parish churchman at gather bedside Went hammer duct tongs wrap up the prayers for representation dying Tell some were responding abstruse some crying I remembered her head bent repute my head, Her breeze in suspect, our eloquent dipping knives - Conditions closer rendering whole specialism of minute lives.
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| The chilled that came off rendering sheets legacy off interpretation line Energetic me imagine the misty must importunate be give back them But when I took discount corners provision the linen And pulled against amalgam, • Opened Ground: Poems Seamus Heaney Faber and FaberI love Seamus Heaney's poetry and I have a few scattered collections - Stations, Death of a Naturalist - but I've recently treated myself to this because it covers most of Seamus' collections, from the first in right up to The Spirit Level in This gives a wonderful overview of the development of his work and it also includes his Nobel lecture 'Crediting Poetry'. Seamus chose the poems to be included himself, weeding out ones he was no longer happy with and some of the poems were re-written, though the alterations are so minor it's difficult to find any differences. All my favourites are there - The Forge, Digging, The Barn, Churning Day, and his prose poem The Stations of the West, which describes how he was sent to the Gaeltacht to learn Gaelic and hoped, perhaps, to learn something of the Celtic mysteries. These visions are denied the child, but there are other kinds of revelation. It ends: ' Neither did any gift of tongues descend in my days in that upper room when all around me seemed to prophesy. But still I would recall the stations of the west, white sand, hard rock, light ascending like its definition over Ranna-fast and Errigal, Annaghry and Kincasslagh; names portable a
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