The Shores Of Lampedusa

I have a home

A refuge from the cold

A shelter from the wind and rain

Here I can grow old

No need to claim asylum

No one is after me

Here I am warm and cosy

My own dear sanctuary


I haven’t come ashore

On Lampedusa

Or risked the English Channel

Called La Manche

I’m not fleeing war or poverty

Or looking for a job

I’m not an exile

This is my own ranch


My forebears they were immigrants

From Ireland they came

From peasantry and poverty

West of Ireland strain

Coalmines and cotton mills

Took their strength away

And gave them back a pittance

For their weekly pay


I read a line this morning

An economic truth

Affluence breeds thrift it said

A paradox by ‘struth

Or to put it simpler

Money can lead to greed

And sitting in our comfort zone

We really don’t see the need


The story told by Jesus

Applies to one and all

Dives and Lazarus

Is a daily call

I have my home I’m grateful

But there’s a man outside my door

On the shores of Lampedusa

And every day there’s more


Brian Fahy

9 September 2021


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