A sunny morning in my mother’s glen
Everything delighted way back then
Waking up to sunshine
Turf fire blazing bright
Eggs and bacon on the table
All the world is right
The meadow and the meadow grass
Soft to lie upon
A carpet of wild flowers in the breeze
A walk down to the river
Darting trout to see
A field full of potatoes
Growing there for me
Hens and chickens clucking
Collie dogs at rest
Cousins round for playing games
Bad Eggs we played best
Horizons far and filled with hills
Dotted now with sheep
A whole wide world to play in
Till it’s time for sleep
And to the south and standing tall
Slievemore shines in the sun
A sentinel to guard us all
And we all having fun
And Carrowmore is glinting
White houses on the hill
And the lake is quietly murmuring
I can I see it still
What is this paradise I find
With each returning year
How wonderful it is to know
My mother came from here
And though we all have left it now
It stays here in my mind
Those happy mornings long ago
When all the world was kind
Brian Fahy
7 March 2022
Erris Poetry 