Over Dublin's Rooftops,
I see St Michan's Church,
and the Liffey to its right.
I see the tower of Irish Whiskey
as it overlooks fondly on Smithfield
with its cobblestones and lamps so tall.
I see the four Courts all in grey and the
top of the Dublin Mountains on this clear day.
And as I look to the other side I see the road
that leads to my old home.
When I walk up there,
ghosts of my former life run past me
ever so swiftly.
Things are not the same
and it often feels empty,
when you cannot go home
and have a chat with your nearest and dearest.
They are long gone but the memories remain.
Still nothing is the same.
Over Dublin's rooftops we hear the chiming of the bell.
Which brings back memories of Sunday Mass and a visit to Granny, before heading home for roast dinner and icecream and jelly.
When I think back now,
Life was easy and simple,
less stress than it is today.
And we never really appreciate
what we have, until it is sadly taken away.
Verse: Sandra Kavanagh (c)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem