As craggy, cliffside treks steal my breath;
Such emotions within, I strive to control;
Footsteps of ancestors, famine and death.
A harsh land, of rock and few trees;
Boundary walls, sheep on the hillsides;
Imagination running wild and so free;
As white caps, that blow on the tides.
Kelsey, Walker, Owens, and Hallisey lines,
Just a few who have called this land home,
Seafarers, quarrymen and farmers combined;
With just a hint of their stories we've known.
I now feel the breeze, same as they once had,
Taste the salty, flower scented sea sprays;
The trip of a lifetime, for which I am glad;
Oh, Ireland...how I wish I could stay!
