MISTS OF COUNTY CLARE

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MISTS OF COUNTY CLARE

How can you miss what you have yet to know...

How can you long for the fields of green

or the mists that spray upon the Cliffs of Moher..

Do you long for the majesty of the River Shannon

that wends it's way to the might

and sometimes fury, of the North Atlantic?

Not even the years of famine that wrenched at the very heart of Clare

could break the bonds that tie the people to the land.

So many left in wooden ships to build a life anew

knowing not what lay ahead

but longing for all they left behind.

From these broken hearts, came determination..

and courage and persistence.

The Irish spirit survived, as did the very essence of Clare

and back they came - to the land of their forefathers

to revitalise and build again.

The heart of Clare remains within the heart of all who long for her

those who returned, those who visit to walk the paths of their ancestors

those who cry out to know from whence they came.

As the mists of Clare roll over the Burren

so do the heart connections waft through the mists of time.

© Crissouli 2013

FOOTSTEPS OF MY PAST

(c) John Mayer

FOOTSTEPS OF MY PAST

'tis the green hills of Ireland that call me home

for they hold the footsteps of my past.

They protect the very souls of my ancestors

the essence of my being, my Mother's family.

She so longed to visit the land she called home

to feel the mists upon her face

and the wind in her hair.

She longed to walk the lanes her Mother did

as a young girl growing up in Clare..

to hear the laughter and the songs

the brogue that sweetens the very air.

She dreamt of peat burning in the hearth..

family she never knew, welcoming Biddy's girl.

She wanted to tell them her Mam never forgot

and that she was happy in her new land she called home…

that she and her sister, Molly, kept the old stories alive

that they sang the songs of their birthplace…

But it wasn't to be, my Mother left us too soon 

as her Mother had left her.

I will go home for you, my dear Mother

home to the green hills of Ireland you loved to call home.

 © Crissouli Jan 2014