Your beauty has beguiled it seems,
Of mountainside patchwork fields I dream
Moody sky with clouds dark-clad
Give way to sun that warms hearts glad
Blooming pathways, hidden charm
The windswept way to hillside farm
Painted sheep dot sweeping hill
Listen to the swallows trill
Cattle graze amongst the green
Stop in place, the sight serene
Greens that gently touch the sea
Broken castles, history
Locals seeming unaware
Accustomed to the grandeur there
Of hills majestic, rivers clear
The oceans wave, the heaven near
Taking, as it was, for granted
The glorious heaven God had planted
Pints are shared, friends in making
Songs and smiles, cares forsaking
Telling tales of ages passed
Reminisce, the spell is cast
In sleepy summer solstice long
I listened to the siren song
As magically she called from me
All vestige of my sanity
Every corner turned, my duty
Headlong into yet more beauty
Endless sky to endless sea
I lost myself and willingly
Misty rain on slopes of grey
I reveled in its gentle way
Feeling not the windy chills
My eyes, through tears, caressed the hills
Oh this place, so boldy swept
the soul from me, my heart it leapt
Golden valley before me sleeping
Stirring soul within me, weeping
My life shall never be the same
Since Erin set my heart aflame
And stole my sense, with all good haste
Did wrest my soul and laid it waste
To long for Ireland evermore
Her sea and sky, sweet love and lore.
She’ll whisper me her lilting score
Until I tread her fields once more
-- Fran Reddy
Lovely, Fran. Well done.
This poem just had to come out of me... It was 4 months after our trip and one day it just started taking form in my head. I haven't written poetry for years. Visiting Ireland had such an effect on me, the history, the beauty and charm along with knowing that many of my ancestors were born and walked there.. It really did steal a piece of my heart and soul! And my longing to go back is real, it is always there. So this poem is in essence, directly from my heart.
I enjoy poetry that rhymes, Fran, and you clearly excel at this form, which I find a throwback to a classical era of poetry, in antebellum America and elsewhere.
I particularly like this verse:
Her sea and sky, sweet love and lore.
She’ll whisper me her lilting score
Until I tread her fields once more\
Bravo!
Thanks so much for the positive comments! I am happy that this poem helps to tell of my personal experience of Ireland and how much it enchanted me!
Thank you Fran. You have also spoken for my soul's dream.
What is this magic that Ireland has!? It seems it really is true.. you KNOW when you're home and it's hard to leave! One of the good friends we made during the trip (well, before the trip even) who is a native of Ireland commented in a later email to me that he was somewhat puzzled by how inspirational the place could be. He did go on to say that he understood the sense of home and heritage one may feel when you come there because of the landscape, the history and even the culture, but it's more than that. It is more of a spiritual, deep in your heart and soul kind of feeling and that is what I hoped to express in my poem.
brilliant. thank you.
And thank you Bill :)
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