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I BECKON FOR THE NORTH OF IRELAND I beckon for the north of Ireland With it’s broken chain of colouring So green and lush the remoteness I dare not love thee less Moist drifting showers over peat bogs I wished I were soaked in that solace Miles of encouraged unveiled beauty I’ve kept small harbours of that furnace Has glanced my youth before an emigrate Perhaps a wanting to refuel Hark that longing for the land of my forebears For I left my skin there in many layers |
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Copyright Cameron McIntyre
2003 |
