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Going Home
 
Posted in the spirit of Saint Patrick's Day

Had you not come home and had you not been born
how then to tell you of this place called home, Ireland
the lands of waters, valleys of treasures every day, behold!

Never so grand the land before your feet, feast your eyes on
where all your dreams come true, everywhere friends, to sing
in songs sung, where fears are laid to rest with Irish lullabies.

Ireland's rocky shores are laid bare, be true to your heritage
never to be abandoned or forgotten by her lads, her lassies
be you far or near her shore East, West, South or North.

Remember our souls never do rest until we come home.
Let our thoughts flow to Ireland, in rivers to the sea.
In a cloud, you fly home where dreams do come true.

Come home to Ireland and there entice your soul
on your journey through Ireland's paths of love
find Ireland's true love, forever and ever to be.

By poetotoe

© 2019 poetotoe (All rights reserved)

 

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