The Memory of Home and Golden Hay

Great Britain - Leeds

I am of Irish Descent and wrote this poem about immigration based on my discussions with Irish immigrants including my father.

Irelands Flame

The distant surf of Dublin bay
The internal pain I feel today
To Leeds I go the land of gold
Carrick release your happy hold
To the mills of wool silk and cotton
The land of green ne’er forgotten

I sit alone at the end of day
The lodgings cold, so little pay
My only friend the local pub
Hoping for friends to share a sub
The memory of home and golden hay
To return in glory some brighter day

But years go by and alone I remain
Sharing distant memories to hide current pain
The pubs shut down and friends long gone
I listen to a lonely song
The lingering hope to see the surf
Cut the hay and turn the turf

I close my eye a tear runs down
Hoping to leave this lost ne’er found
I love you Leeds I lay no blame
But you never held Irelands flame
That lit my heart in those distant years
Quenched my thirst and calmed my fears

I thank you all for what you tried
To heal the pain in my lonely eyes
I fear my time has finally come
To reach the sky, a brighter sun

I love you all so pray for me
Feel my pain but let me be
So share for me a parting glass
And say for me a goodnight mass.

TJB … 27 Mar 2019

“Irelands Flame”: Words by Tommy Brannigan, music by Tony Healey


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