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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Sailed across the sea to Dublin then drove west to County Clare. To the small village called Doolin, 'tis stout I'II be drinkin' there. The craic as they say is mighty In Gus Connors cosy pub, at night there's always a cèilì and stout served with homely grub. Then the floor clears for set dancing and they dance a set or two, to the sound of the tin whistle the bodhran and fiddle too. Next morn saw the Cliffs of Moher on the Wild Atlantic way and the Aran Isles in Galway In the teeth of Galway bay. Sometimes you won't be so lucky mists might roll in from the sea, with howling winds like a banshee beware! paths might slippy be. Calm days you might see seals basking when the skies are blue and clear, they're the selkie's, I'm not jokin' I've seen some at Doolin Pier. The limestone rocks of the Burren with a landscape like the moon, It’s renowned for flora unique all the rocks are oblique hewn. Last day I drove south to Blarney to kiss the old Blarney stone. And now I never stop talking wife calls me the walking drone. Drove to the M8 for Dublin for a two and half hour ride then stopped just outside the city honour those that sadly died. At Glasnevin there’s a graveyard brave men and boys, Irelands pride and in the towns and country fought fiercely and bravely died. Bronze famine figures at dockland with children, women, and men and to see them you'd be saddened thousands died in Ireland then. Drove to the port for the ferry t'was pouring the sky had paled my days in Ireland were merry and at six the ferry sailed.
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