My Tír na nÓg

To Patricia A. McLaughlin from Dan,
her husband, February 14, 2022

Though this poem may sound
A little bit crazy
Bear with me now,
Me memory, ‘tis hazy. 

A pig roast in July set the scene
An introduction by cousin Eileen
Why this happened? Well it's just because
I got invited to go with The Woz*.

You couldn't know all I was thinking
As we chatted there eating and drinking
While the Spaniard in me said, Ay caramba!
The Irish side said, "Have a drink, then ask for her number." 

And so I did – and you did too
Yet there is something I never knew
How could I surmise we'd one day grow old?
Finding ourselves a family with hearts of gold. 

When words of love fill the air
Like a song you would hum
Where the dog never bites
And the bees never stung. 

How your laughter is my garden
Your voice a melody in my ears
Such a hard-working woman and then
How grateful to God I am for these years. 

Then after the sun has set -- and finally hung
You're the one that's my "forever young."
And when life seems a ruse, a long-hard road
I see your face, your heart, mind and soul -- my Tír na nÓg!

* Richard Wozniak aka “The Woz” called from New York (as I worked in Tulsa, Oklahoma) to inform me of the annual July “pig roast” in Massapequa Park, Long Island. A classmate’s younger brother had been hosting this event for several years. A friend of The Woz since kindergarten, I managed to schedule a client boondoggle that week to make sure I made the event.

Tír na nÓg, translated “Land of the Young” in Irish, refers to the land of perpetual springtime and eternal youth in Celtic lore.