Ballynahinch Postcards by Peter Fallon

60 pp  limited signed edition hardback and paperback

Ballynahinch Postcards by Peter Fallon has been published by Occasional Press in collaboration with Ballynahinch Castle, Recess, Connemara, Ireland.

Peter Fallon lives with his family in Loughcrew in County Meath in the midlands of Ireland. At the age of eighteen he founded The Gallery Press which is widely regarded as Ireland’s pre-eminent literary pubishing house.
He has been Writer Fellow at Trinity College, Dublin, his alma mater, and poet-in-residence at Deerfield Academy in Massachusetts. In 2000 he was inaugural Heimbold Professor of Irish Studies at Villanova University. He is a member of Aosdána, the Irish “academy” of artists who have made “an outstanding contribution to the arts in Ireland”.
Peter Fallon’s collections of poems include News of the World: Selected and New Poems (1998) and The Company of Horses (September
2007). The Georgics of Virgil (October 2004), a Poetry Book Society Recommended Translation, has been reissued by Oxford University Press in its World’s Classics Series.
For years he has returned to Ballynahinch where each winter he enjoys his “retreat” in a house adjacent to the Castle, during which these poems emerged.
The book is published in a limited, signed edition of 185 numbered hardback copies and 1000 paperback copies. 

For information please contact Brid O'Malley at  Ballynahinch Castle 

Scroll down for extracts.


 

One World

Nearly two days after
the tsunami

an extra ripple where
the river bumps against the sea

■  (untitled - starlings)

A swarm of starlings
tumbling
cartwheels in the air

head over heels
in love
with there,

and here, and now.

Storm

A storm
is happening to the shore. Growls
in the stomach of the surge.
Slaps and smashes. A mastiff's howls.

You,

who'd beware a quiet bull
yet needed to test everything,
could not resist the ocean's pull.

Morning, and the winds
abate.
You leave the mad hounds of the gale
tethered to the garden gate.

Chough

How he works his way
high
into the wind —

furl, tack, gybe
or trim,
our homebound

sailor of the sky.