Exile’s Return

Willesden London

Where he died

So very faraway

But he’s coming home in a coffin box

Finally home to stay


Willesden London

Crowded house

Endless streets and roads

Houses, houses everywhere

Work and heavy loads


Willesden London

All his years

Working with his hands

A little flat at end of day

Home in foreign land


But now the sun is shining

And Termoncarragh calls

The wide Atlantic ocean

The lake and wild bird calls

The ancient graveyard waiting

Settled down at last

The wind and wave to bless him now

His future and his past


Willesden London

Now no more

Will hear his light footfall

He is home among his own

At the wide Atlantic wall

Termoncarragh blessed height

Look out west and see

The man who loved you coming home

Where he deserves to be


Brian Fahy

3 March 2022


+ Every day I read the death notices on Midwest Radio Ireland. I am funny like that. Today I read about a Jim Ruddy, of Ardoone, Belmullet, who lived his life in London, but whose remains will come back to Erris for burial in Termoncarragh cemetery. I do not know the man, but I know the place. It is isolated, beautiful and remote, on the Mullet Peninsula, and commands a fine view of the Atlantic Ocean. The contrast to London could not be greater. It deserves a poem.

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