I’ve been thinking a lot this week about my trip to Ireland.While I was there I picked up a pocket book of Irish poetry. Of course it has a green cover. : )I was totally surprised at the Irish Poets that I knew. Oscar Wilde, Thomas Moore, Jonathan Swift, W. B. Yeats  ( William Butler Yeats). We saw W.B. Yeats’ Grave. This statue was by the gate as you walk into the gave yard. Its a depiction of him reading one of his poems. 20150614_083612Our driver showed us Jonathan Swift’s home in Dublin too. Swift wrote Gulliver’s Travels among other things.

Thomas Davis wrote a beautiful poem called, My Land. When I read it I felt the same way about Ireland that he did.

The streets of Dublin













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When I got home I wrote some of my own poetry about Ireland



As Seagulls call into the night ,

Me home sweet Ireland

As rain falls down on moor and glen

Me home sweet Ireland

The Ocean rushes to the shore

The hedges and the ancient rocks

All shine upon this land

And when I leave you I recall

Me home sweet Ireland

Kate Van Wagoner






I had a dream the last night we were in Ireland, I heard these words being called out to me parts of it over and over. When I woke up I wrote down this poem Mary sweet Mary. I didn’t edit it much from the first writing.




Mary sweet Mary,

calling my name

Over Fen, rock and Craig,

This is a rocky hillside where birds nest. If you look close you may see them. 2015

she looks to me coming.

The glens are all purple,

And yellow with flowers.

When will I come to her,

Calling my name?


The Hawthorne is white,

A promise to me.

I’ve been far away,

in this desolate place.

I took this pic of a beautiful Hawthorne bush when I was in Ireland Jun. 2015

My heart yearns for  home,

When will I return, to

Mary sweet Mary ,

calling my name.


Kate Van Wagoner

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