Ireland
Chris Mahoney

She is the colour of all envious eyes,
The calm whisper of life, as one man dies,
If you leave her arms you'll forever regret,
Her beauty is like no other, like the perfect sunset.

I've left the love that gave life to my soul,
Happiness took me elsewhere for sometime, now life takes its toll,
Although her heart was always calling me home,
I wandered a different land, treading in another's loam.

I walk these streets, and take in this sordid view,
Pondering the decision and reason I flew,
To be living amongst the hearts of my fellow men
Taking pride in our three colours, over and over again.

These envious eyes have now become my own,
Her arms have welcomed me, her reason unknown.
I've always needed her, always wanted her hand,
I'm happy to be home again, in green old Ireland.