Ireland calling

Ireland calling 

Ireland softly calls me to retrace the footsteps of where my ancestors have been.
I can see patchworks of fields, tall mountains, deep lakes and 40 shades of green.
I take in majestic castles, beautiful white beaches and hidden coves,
But nothing takes my breath away more than the place my Dad called home.
Hidden away in the mountain where no Sat nav has been is an old stone wall, to the untrained eye unseen.
It’s covered by nature down Emily’s boreen.
The lane to the family home what sights it must have seen.

I pull back the brambles and wipe away my tears,
if only this crumbling wall could talk I’d be all ears.
I think for a while and recall tales
of laughing taties, fairy trees and  illegal poccine!
I stop for a while to take in the view, if only you were here Dad I would hug you!
Before me is the stream where Dad caught salmon as a boy.
My tears ease and my face turns to one filled with joy.

My journey was a pilgrimage to find the simple life that my Dad once knew.
I will never forget those stunning views!
My heart will always belong in Ireland, the place where my family grew.
And now I have my own piece of Ireland to have and to hold and to recall these memories that I have now told.
Thankyou John Logan for being a friend, without whom my journey would never have had an end!