Ruined stone cottages lie dotted across the Irish landscape, permanent reminders of Ireland's emigrants, forced to leave their homes by famine, and eviction. Over one million people left Ireland in the years of the Great Hunger from 1845 to 1850, and in the decades after many more followed.
Every time I see the old shell of a stone cottage I think of Ireland's diaspora. In today's post I thought I would share a poem I wrote dedicated to Ireland's exiles, who made their new homes in America.
To Ireland's Far-Flung Exiles
by Mairéad Geary
They left these shores carting their memories of Irish summers:
Nettles drooping under the weight of glittering raindrops,
Wild blackberries beckoning on thorny bushes;
Yellow furze, purple heather, the colors of rural childhoods;
Lingering twilights, soft rains, rugged cliffs with secret caves,
Unceasing waves, bronzed for hours by the rays of the setting sun.
On Ireland's furrowed shores, I explore their untamed territory,
Discovering abandoned ruins, eerie memorials in barren fields;
Roofless shells with tumbling chimneys and spiritual hearths,
Systematically overgrown by nature's wild abandon;
Eternal reminders of far-flung exiles, and their children's children,
Dreaming of Ireland from some place far away.
I stand alone in green fields, gazing skyward at contrails
Pointing the way toward a western watery horizon.
My thoughts turn to refugees, viciously ousted,
Nothing but rags shrouding gaunt, emaciated bodies,
Silently trudging to port, in search of virulent vessels;
Some long forgotten, lost forever in their salty oblivion.
Through melancholy mists and harrowing storms, some survived
The wretchedness of ocean crossing and mountain crossing,
Only to be scattered like rain drops upon thousands of valleys,
Where they learned to hope anew, paying tribute to their homeland
In sweat and tears; toiling to the rhythm of their songs;
Whilst laying the foundations for the winding roads of your dreams.
And when those deep-seated recollections haunt you,
Echoing from the land where your forebears sleep
Beneath enduring lunar stones, listen to the bleak cry of time.
Come wade through rain-drenched grass, in praise of summer days.
Let Ireland's gentle breezes polish your scars, and the light of home
Illuminate the ties that bind you to a new and ancient world.
To all those with Irish roots who will visit Ireland this summer, may you feel a warm welcome in your ancestral home.
I wish you safe travels. May you feel a deep and meaningful connection to the land of our forefathers.
More Irish Inspired Poetry
If you like poetry, and especially Irish poetry here are some ramblings you might enjoy...
Did You Know These 7 Authors Are Irish?
Finnegan's Wake with an Apostrophe
Happy reading to all.
Thanks for following my recipes and ramblings.
Slán agus beannacht,
(Goodbye and blessings)
Mairéad -Irish American Mom
Pronunciation - slawn ah-gus ban-ock-th
Mairéad - rhymes with parade
Here are some more recipes and ramblings you might enjoy...
Poetry
- Soul of Skellig - The Poetry of Anne Herridge
- What Is A Limerick?
- If I Were A Lady .... I'd Wear A Hat
- Finnegan's Wake, With An Apostrophe - In Memory of Irish Poet Paddy Finnegan
Irish Music
- Unique Instruments in Irish Music
- The Rocky Road to Dublin: A Short Guide
- It's a Long Way to Tipperary - The History of This Famous Song
- The History and Origins of Traditional Irish Music
Ann Maria Lombardo Williamson
Lovely
Irish American Mom
Ann - Thanks so much for stopping by. I'm so glad you enjoyed this poem dedicated to our Irish ancestors.
All the best,
Mairéad
jena
cool
Penny Wolf
I can't begin to imagine the heaviness of hearts and minds in wondering what to do or how to do in order to survive. Your writing makes me have tears but then just enough anger to be stronger. You paint a beautiful picture of what had been before. I would guess that thankfully the same pictures provided a bittersweet escape in memories and dreams for these dear people.
Irish American Mom
Penny - I think dreams of Ireland were the inspiration for many Irish American songs from the late 19th and early 20th century. Lyrics tended to paint an idyllic picture of Ireland. Music and storytelling were truly a bittersweet escape for many emigrants.
Best wishes, and I hope you're enjoying your summer.
Mairéad
Sinead
Beautiful words to dedicate to those who went before us.
Irish American Mom
Sinead - This poem is truly dedicated to those who left Ireland in search of new beginnings. Thanks for checking it out.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
Mary O'Reilly
Beautiful. Haunting.
Irish American Mom
Thanks Mary, so glad you like this piece.
Take care,
Mairéad
Mags
I really enjoyed these touching words.
Irish American Mom
Mags - Thanks so much for checking out my post and for your kind words.
Best wishes,
Mairéad
Mary Ann
This is just beautiful! You are a gifted writer. The homes look so much like my grandparents homes we found when visiting Castletownbere two years ago. I loved the yellow and purple flowers growing in the fields and now know their names.
Thank so much.
Irish American Mom
Thanks so much Mary Ann. The Beara peninsula is dotted with old ruined houses. I'm so happy you actually found the remains of your ancestors' homes - such discoveries are truly spiritual moments of connection to the past.
I'm glad also you now know the names of these Irish wild flowers. I call the yellow ones furze, but in many places they are called gorse, and then in Donegal they are called whins. When I first went to Donegal with my husband, he kept talking about the whins. I eventually had to ask him to enlighten me as to which shrub he was talking about. We laughed at the nuances of speech between Cork and Donegal, which are really significant when you consider how small Ireland really is.
Anyway, thanks again for your kind words about my writing.
All the best,
Mairéad
Kelly Boran
Simply beautiful!!
Irish American Mom
Thanks Kelly - glad you like this poem.
Take care,
Mairéad