grey stones strung with red,
the River Fergus ripples
with silent ghosts
Copyright 2022 Brenda Davis Harsham
Notes: I didn’t make it to Innisfree, where Yeats wrote his famous poem, but I visited Ennis in the heart of County Clare, where the River Fergus is made glad with flowers. The world of Yeats is alive everywhere. Twilight lasts until midnight, the bees out-sing the traffic, and birds strut and shake their wings in the hedges. The sounds echo in my deep heart’s core where round islands are wild and untamed, and children play on the gravetops.
I will arise and go now, and go to Innisfree,
And a small cabin build there, of clay and wattles made;
Nine bean-rows will I have there, a hive for the honey-bee,
And live alone in the bee-loud glade.
And I shall have some peace there, for peace comes dropping slow,
Dropping from the veils of the morning to where the cricket sings;
There midnight’s all a glimmer, and noon a purple glow,
And evening full of the linnet’s wings.
I will arise and go now, for always night and day
I hear lake water lapping with low sounds by the shore;
While I stand on the roadway, or on the pavements grey,
I hear it in the deep heart’s core.
6 thoughts on “Bridge over the River Fergus”
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Friendly Fairy Tales 
Beautiful! Wonderful photo and so good to read the poem again this Friday morning.
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I have to assume you mean Yeats. It is a perfect gem. All artists strive toward that perfect expression of their craft. And we know how short we generally fall. I recently watched a great movie about this about Katsushika Oi, Hokusia’s daughter. Thank you for stopping by!
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I hope you don’t mind if we talk on private
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what a beautiful poem and beautiful place
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Thank you!
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You’re such like a sweet poem I read last night…. I hope you don’t mind if we get to know each other much better….!
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