Rose Hip

Glorious sunshiny day here. A Quiet look around the garden and this : I like the colours of the background, starts to look a little painterly.
Good day for more Heaney. I'm always moved by this : the magic of childhood perhaps.

The Railway Children

When we climbed the slopes of the cutting
We were eye-level with the white cups
Of the telegraph poles and the sizzling wires.

Like lovely freehand they curved for miles
East and miles west beyond us, sagging
Under their burden of swallows.

We were small and thought we knew nothing
Worth knowing. We thought words travelled the wires
In the shiny pouches of raindrops,

Each one seeded full with the light
Of the sky, the gleam of the lines, and ourselves
So infinitesimally scaled

We could stream through the eye of a needle.


-- Seamus Heaney