I must visit Ireland Its call pervades my brain Flooding me with feelings Of aching love and pain I shall gaze upon its lush lands Entranced within its spell Engrossed in tales of wee folk And those of Banshee wails I'll bring to mind its famine Where many folk did die I'll linger and I'll ponder Tragedies of life . . . and why? Visit, I must, to Ireland To that land of emerald green Paying tribute to those departed And a country's future dream
Echoes of green the lush and calling wild Twinkle in my twilight & tease the inner child of footsteps never taken or breath of erin drawn Olde blood singing of a tapestry long torn A soft sighing lilt a fiery tempered hand Would that the yearning still for my Ireland! x
Ireland
