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.