When I retire in Ireland I'll be fit and sixty-five Then I'll ride the DART for free and explore the country-side
I'll rent an old thatched cottage Buy a bicycle with gears Tool along Connor Pass Road Out to ******, drink some beers
Eating the Irish breakfasts Drinking too much Guinness to mention Uncle Sam sends my Social Security I'll collect my teacher's pension
Mornings I'll write a novel About my Irish sojourn A boat to Blasket Islands Some Gaelic I'll be learnin'
I'll check my geneology The DART to Cork and I go Fitzpatrick's, a talented family, Doctors, fighters, writers in the know
Always an ear to the music Familiar faces all around Perhaps some long lost relatives Still in Cork who could be found
Yes, I'm in love with Ireland The Cliffs of Moher call to me I'll go hiking west of Doolin Rent an apartment in Dun Laoghaire (dun leary)
I've enjoyed 2 trips to Ireland and both times felt as if I belonged there, that the faces I saw seemed familiar, like cab-drivers who looked like my brothers. Also the 1st poem I posted when I joined HP.