Poet Tribute: Seamus Heaney - April 25th - 30th

**Happy National Poetry Month**


In celebration of National Poetry Month, every 6 days in April we will introduce (or re-introduce) you to a Famous poet, and invite you to attempt to write in their approximate style as a tribute!

April 1-6 Sylvia Plath
April 7-12 Federico García Lorca
April 13-18 W.B Yeats
April 19-24 Dr Seuss
April 25-30 Seamus Heaney

April 25th - 30th Seamus Heaney



• Born: 13 April 1939 Castledawson, Northern Ireland. Currently resides in Dublin, Ireland.
• Most widely known for his translating the epic Beowulf.
• Heaney has won prestigious honours and awards including the Noble Prize in literature.
• Heaney turned down laureateship mainly due to his political views.
• Heaney has been describe by peers as “the most important Irish poet since Yeats”.
• In December 2011 he donated his literary notes to the National Library of Ireland.

As a very new reader of Seamus Heaney I find the easiest thing to appreciate about his work is the story teller vision he has, even in the most emotive and visual stunning poetry he writes I find a connection to the deeper story, the image beyond or even within the lines.

I can’t help but adore the visuals of Heaney and I can’t wait to discover more from this poet.

Here is one of the poems I have enjoyed:


Follower

My father worked with a horse-plough,
His shoulders globed like a full sail strung
Between the shafts and the furrow.
The horse strained at his clicking tongue.

An expert. He would set the wing
And fit the bright steel-pointed sock.
The sod rolled over without breaking.
At the headrig, with a single pluck

Of reins, the sweating team turned round
And back into the land. His eye
Narrowed and angled at the ground,
Mapping the furrow exactly.

I stumbled in his hob-nailed wake,
Fell sometimes on the polished sod;
Sometimes he rode me on his back
Dipping and rising to his plod.

I wanted to grow up and plough,
To close one eye, stiffen my arm.
All I ever did was follow
In his broad shadow round the farm.

I was a nuisance, tripping, falling,
Yapping always. But today
It is my father who keeps stumbling
Behind me, and will not go away.


by Seamus Heaney



This week, we invite you to write a Poetic Tribute poem in the style of Seamus Heaney. All the advice I can offer when trying to imitate or write in the style of Heaney is embrace your poetic story teller side, use natural imagery and broad symbolism. Have fun and I look forward to reading what you produce.