Emerald
Green from where she came
Divided but not conquered
Land as pure as water
Seen with eyes of green
In war and times of slaughter
A land forgiving a land forlorn
A land of mountain and of mourn
A proud place some call her home
A precious land where we belong
Some fight on, some say noubt
The land is silent as the truth wins out
This tiny spec in a world so huge
Yet countries so vast can’t fill her shoes
The End.
I will probably always now think of Ireland as “a land forgiving a land forlorn.” The last two lines are really something else as well.
Well Im Proud of where I hail. This country has issues there is no doubt yet for all this and many other reason it is the place i call home. I have visited lands of plenty and Ireland can take the pepsi challenge.
There is safety in her arms there is power in her mountains and there is life in her rivers. Mystical, magical land of green.
[…] This is probably why I’ve come to think of albertoxie’s Poetic Excuse as my “WordPress poetry heaven.” To be sure, the man hasn’t updated since May 14, but I still haven’t exhausted re-reading the archives, so I’m as happy as a very literary little crab not being boiled. In Ireland. […]
Now I do understand…