Flourishing green is the land of my dreams
Deep are her nut laden woods,
Abundant the fruit
in the trees on the hills
Rugged the dark moors
Of misty cold chills.
But, sweet are the lassies
And robust the lads,
Warm are her gruels
And hearty her feuds.

To leave of her destiny
is a lifetime of grief,
to carry that sadness,
as the fall of a leaf,
A weakness of heart,
is to walk from the faith
Of the fathers of yore
of stoic belief.

Gentle the sound of her whispering wind
Secret the flow where rivers have been,
Straight through her heart,
the sparkling of Shannon
Abounding with treasure,
her schools of pink salmon,
The call of her birds such music delight,
This...so blessed emerald isle
where my heart can take flight.



Soft Whispers from
Derry's Heart Poems
2004 used with permission
heartwhispers@iinet.net.au



Irish Quip
Ireland
It's the one place on earth
That Heaven has kissed
With melody, mirth
And meadow and mist.


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