Waking In The Glen

I woke up in the glen
In the morning
The sun already dancing in the sky
Dublin Hill I spied from the window
Tuiscean bright
The river running by

I came down from the room
To smell the breakfast
Turf fire burning
Ashes stirred to blaze
A place at the table for the rashers
Homemade bread and tea
Aunt Annie’s gaze

Those days are gone
The people too gone with them
No Careys now
No Flannerys in the glen
And I have walked the long road
Since that morning
I woke in my dear mammy’s butt and ben

I never left the glen
The glen came with me
To each and every place
I had to roam
Wherever I laid my head
And found a slumber
Glencullen and its river
Was my home

And now today in Scotland
In my own place
A quiet peaceful spot
I do declare
The memory of the glen
Abiding with me
Is here again
To share my native air

Brian Fahy
9 August 2021

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