I OFT THINK OF CLARE
I oft think of Clare and her roaring white waves
Her washed pebble beaches and sultry black caves
Is it always a dream or will I get there
Away from dark London and over to Clare
To sit in a pub near the Ballyvaughan pier
And sip the black Guinness in a room full of cheer
To see the fire glow and the moon rising high
Away from dark London before the day that I die
To walk in the Burren and hear the birds sing
O'er flower laden meadows in a ceremony of spring
To listen and smell and rapture supreme
Away from dark London and the mind's silent scream
To hear music played in an old mellow way
To sense the tradition and love in the play
To see people comradely and singing together
Away from dark London with no time for each other
I dream of a small house with the sea within sight
I think of the peace and tranquillity at night
I see roses blooming and clematis in flower
Away from dark London with no sense of my power
Liam Purcell
All texts are ©1999-2000
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