An Irish farm lives in my heart. My parents own a beautiful Irish farm. Green fields climb the side of a picturesque forested mountain.
Dedicated To My Family And Our Irish Farm In County Cork
Living in America, I miss our farm in County Cork.
There I feel at home.
Today, I can only dream of ….
The call of the cuckoo echoing behind Maytime blossoms;
Swooping swallows dancing before me;
The river gurgling under the old iron bridge
My father crossed to school;
Bales of hay stacked in yellow, shorn fields of summer;
The lazy, ancient boreen meandering to the woods;
Red and purple flower bells chiming in my heart;
Wading through fat rolls of fog in the early morning yard;
Shimmering, varnished fields on a bright, frosty dawn;
Tall pine trees reaching towards bleak winter skies;
The forested mountain peak piercing heavy clouds,
Daring them to blanket the earth in soft, misty rain.
When I am there, I feel one with the earth,
The river, the trees, the sky.
The farm does not belong to me;
I belong to the farm.
I know it is waiting for me when I am far away,
Ready to resume where we left off.
Someday soon , I will wander its glorious fields;
Listening to its tree-line chatter once again;
Interpreting the whispers of its rustling leaves;
Simply savoring the stillness in my soul.
Have You Ever Visited An Irish Farm?
Thanks for reading my poem today. It’s written in open verse, no rhyming, just recording my flow of thoughts as I recollect my Irish home.
Our family farm is dedicated to rearing beef cattle. I think these beautiful animals are magical. They’re so inquisitive, yet docile.
Each has their own unique personality. Believe it or not, my mother names each and every on of the cattle on the farm. She even calls them by name.
Have you ever spent time on an Irish farm?
Do you have memories of bringing in the hay, or milking cows?
Do you feel that Irish yearning for the land that’s part of the rural Irish psyche?
Feel free to join our discussion of Irish farming in the comment section below. You might also enjoy reading Lorna Sixsmith’s book : Would You Marry A Farmer?
Slán agus beannacht,
(Goodbye and blessings)