Erin's Autumn

The scent of the sea in Erin's cool air Captivates me and I wish I were there. Such colors displayed in ivy that crawls Weaving its way over ancient rock walls. I recall my awe of every hue The last time I bid sweet Erin adieu. I felt embraced by Autumn's breezy arms When deeply engaged by all of her charms. Pipes that were played in a passing parade, Impassioned mem'ries over hill and glade, Help to remind me that once long ago My ancestors lived, yet had to let go. They journeyed across the turbulent sea To reach a new land in home of the free. I always rejoice in songs we still sing When feelings return that fall colors bring. © Connie Marcum Wong Note: [1]Poets and nineteenth-century Irish nationalists used Erin in English as a romantic name for Ireland.[2] Often, "Erin's Isle" was used. In this context, along with Hibernia, Erin is the name given to the female personification of Ireland, but the name was rarely used as a given name, probably because no saints, queens, or literary figures were ever called Erin. [3]According to Irish mythology and folklore, the name was originally given to the island by the Milesians after the goddess Ériu.