T'was 1994 that I first headed off for Eyre.
I felt it's pull. I thought I might find some adventures there.
As countries go it's small enough in area, and so
I thought that for a thorough visit three weeks ought to do.
I'd heard about the Irish folk and almost always good;
They like a laugh, a song, a beer, some Guiness, and some food.
But what I found when I arrived was beyond my expectations,
this national populous it seemed was bent on celebrations.
I landed on March 16, the next day defied beliefs!
The Mary's and the Paddy's, the O'Tooles and the O'Keiths,
plus many more, some hundred score, had filled the streets and pubs.
Camera's flashed, and flags were waved, and cheers of "Up the Dubs!"
O'Connell Street was quite the place to spend St Patricks Day.
The city was most festive. In the old sense things were 'gay'.
In and out of pubs we went. We drank, then sang, then more.
We met kind folks and heard their jokes and laughted till we were sore.
We danced and sang and drank again, and fairly soaked it up.
This set the tone for days to come: Seven days we'd dine and sup.
The first week had raced rightly past, or so it seemed for cert.
We farewelled each then set to see this land by sea is girt.
By either name, Ireland or Eyre,
both words fit. Both names are fair
descriptions of this rocky place; this airy Isle of green.
"The Emerald Isle" it's sometimes dubbed; a common colour scene.
And sure enough as I set out to take in many views,
I learned a thing. My penny dropped. At last I got the news ...
If people can bother to take time to share,
if they meet someone new and can show them such care,
could I, in my travels, pass on this good turn.
The world can share love - That's a grand thing to learn.
To thumb a lift is mighty 'craic', you'll meet the kindest folk.
They share the ride, perhaps some food, and probably a joke.
Kay Conners of LisDoolin saw me standing by the street,
with two German fella's I'd had barely time to meet.
As dark began she asked us of our plans that windy night.
Against the bitter coastal wind we told her of our plight.
There were no beds at the Inn in town, as we had hoped there'd be.
We hoped to try to hitch a ride from Doolin from the sea.
"There's no cars now. You'll die out here. It's far too cold", she said.
As rain, and wind, and dark set in, I gave a nodded head.
She took us back to her old house, where she once use to live.
The place was old and dirty, but was all she had to give.
We didn't mind the mouse poo, or the cobwebs, or the smell;
For Kay had saved us from the deathly gales of rain that fell.
If people can bother to take time to share,
if they meet someone new and can show them such care,
could I, in my travels, pass on this good turn.
The world can share love - That's a grand thing to learn.
To John Matthews of Coleburn (near Derry, methinks
I wonderful place, but it's history stinks.
I'm saddened to think of the 'troubles' up north.
All you people for peace, it is time to step forth.)
You gave me a ride, but was much more than that.
You gave me a lift with your genuine chat.
You gave me real hope in the goodness of kind;
Your warm friendly smile, your gregarious mind.
You gave me ten "punt" to buy me a drink.
In all that you gave me you caused me to think ...
If people can bother to take time to share,
if they meet someone new and can show them such care,
could I, in my travels, pass on this good turn.
The world can share love - That's a grand thing to learn.
