IRELAND IS CALLING
– by Ia Bolz, Irishbyways Traveler
Ireland is calling
She whispers in my ear:
“Galway, Connemara, Clifden and the Isle of Inishbofin...”
Her mystic, Celtic music swirls round in my head --
Lilting, lyrical notes drifting in the enchanting Irish air.
Ireland is calling
She takes me by the hand
I roam over her grassy hilltops polka-dotted with sheep
And I wander on her cobbled streets,
Leaping joyously over her rock walls --
So much a part of her quaint villages and countryside
The Irish charm gayly overflows.
Ireland is calling
She comforts me on misty, rainy days
With a streaming brew of Irish tea
I drink in her jagged cliffs and am smoothed.
By the white-capped waves on her western shore.
Ireland is calling
Her bogs, her marshes dampen my trail
But I pay no mind – I am on blessed soil
Spirits and wee gnomes and elves
Have a joyous, emerald playground
I dance a jig knowing I have such impish company.
Ireland is calling
Her ancient castles, ruined churches and abbeys
Are strong reminders of her proud and reverent history
Quiet, still, majestic.
Ireland is calling
She whispers in my ear:
“Where are you? Where are you?”
I reply: “I'm here!”
