<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476427" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>On An Apple-Ripe September Morning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">On an apple-ripe September morning<br>Through the mist-chill fields I went<br>With a pitch-fork on my shoulder<br>Less for use than for devilment.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The threshing mill was set-up, I knew,<br>In Cassidy's haggard last night,<br>And we owed them a day at the threshing<br>Since last year. O it was delight</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To be paying bills of laughter<br>And chaffy gossip in kind<br>With work thrown in to ballast<br>The fantasy-soaring mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">As I crossed the wooden bridge I wondered<br>As I looked into the drain<br>If ever a summer morning should find me<br>Shovelling up eels again.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And I thought of the wasps' nest in the bank<br>And how I got chased one day<br>Leaving the drag and the scraw-knife behind,<br>How I covered my face with hay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wet leaves of the cocksfoot<br>Polished my boots as I<br>Went round by the glistening bog-holes<br>Lost in unthinking joy.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I'll be carrying bags to-day, I mused,<br>The best job at the mill<br>With plenty of time to talk of our loves<br>As we wait for the bags to fill.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maybe Mary might call round...<br>And then I came to the haggard gate,<br>And I knew as I entered that I had come<br>Through fields that were part of no earthly estate.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+Kavanagh">Patrick Kavanagh</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476427" data-title="On An Apple-Ripe September Morning de Patrick Kavanagh" data-description="On an apple-ripe September morning Through the mist-chill fields I went With a pitch-fork on my shoulder Less for use than for devilment. The threshing mill was set-up, I knew, In Cassidy's haggard last night, And we owed them a day at the thresh..."></div> </div> </div>

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