Poem – Irish Family

I remember the graveyards in Ireland.
The place of my ancestors and my motherland.
The cloudy skies so very lush and green.
The smiles on the people who refuse to be mean.

There the grass is a carpet thick and lush.
And the sheep stand deep in the boggy mush.
The church bells sing their ancient song.
They call to the people to come along.

The pubs are filled with laughter and good cheer.
These people know how to become one with a good beer.
The Irish know how to celebrate the good and the bad.
They see all as a friend and call everyone a good lad.

They sing about all the terrible things and make us laugh.
They laugh at the pain while they fill up another draft.
I remember the gatherings of my family with all their Irish roots.
I remember the humor and the stories that were such a hoot.

Many of them are either very old or gone.
Some of us are left to remember and shoulder on.
I miss them all, but I know that someday.
They will meet me at that celestial archway.

Because family is the core where love is grown.
And they still remind me that we are never alone.
~Suzanne Wagner~