Love Poems About Ireland or Ireland Love Poems

Ireland love poems and/or love poems about Ireland. Read, share, and enjoy these Ireland love poems! Also, try our sister website's powerful search engine for poems.

Poem Details | by R. L. McCallum |
Categories: bereavement, death, grave, ireland, loneliness, lost love, missing you, sad,

A Winter's Rime

(In a churchyard in Northern Ireland)


Through the broken and barren trees
Winter exhales its coldest breeze
From the wintry breath of northern seas
That can chill the warmest soul.

Thus in the churchyard by the sea
Nigh one broken and barren tree
Lies cold a soul once warm to me
Beneath the winter’s rime.

As the heart of winter doth unfold
I feel its touch, so dark and cold,
For I yearn at night to yet behold
That soul once warm to me.

But in earthen depths doth she lie
E’er below the moon and starlit sky
As yet unto her grave I wander by
And despair the winter’s rime.

O’ the winter wails upon the still
With its bleak and bitter chill
That conjures from the nightly nil
A soul once warm to me!


Poem Details | by Curtis Moorman |
Categories: beautiful, ireland, love, romantic love, truth, woman,

Tribute To Native Culture

TRIBUTE TO NATIVE CULTURE

'Tis the Irish homeland
Racing in me blood lad
On it, I'll take me stand
Of me heritage, I am glad

The bonny lass I call me own
Keeps me feeling true
When days on end I must be gone
With the chores I have to do

But when the time is o'er
For me to be back home
I close and lock the door
Vowing not to roam

I'll keep her by me side
As long as breath is mine
She'll not be denied
On that, she is relying

Irish eyes were smiling 
Of that ye can be sure
To send one so beguiling
So wholesome and so pure

15 November
For the contest sponsored by Line Gauthier


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: beauty, blessing, history, home, hope, ireland, universe,

Celtic Love

      CELTIC LOVE
The paths we take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great mother Dana, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of spring,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.

In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is the place we chose to be.

They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child--their hearts were solid stone
and Caeser put us out to where we choose to be
here in our emerald upon the sea,
to where, great mother, only you had known.

The Wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.

You'll be as much a part of all of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, our destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.

Forget my name, remember just my way
of loving you both every night and day
We'll have it all, if we can realize,
that all we want is here before our eyes,
and all we need is here, and on our way.
© Ron Wilson


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: food, humor, ireland,

Irish Girl Love Song

     IRISH GIRL LOVE SONG
Don't love an Irish girl.
She's gonna do you wrong.
She's a hard hearted woman
and she won't stay home.
I got some Irish blood
in my family tree.
But I wouldn't love an Irish girl
For the life of me.

I ain't no leprechan,
but I'm on the run
cause a hard hearted Irish girl
wanted me for fun.
I lived on Irish stew
it was six days old,
cause she wasn't home long enough
to warm itI ate it cold.
© ron wilson aka ron arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: absence, art, beauty, grandmother, hope, ireland, love,

Impression From Grandmother 3x Esther Louise Arbuthnot's Photograph 1876

    TEARS OF AN IRISH GIRL
        ( Impression From Grandmother 3x Esther Louise Arbuthnot's Photograph 1876)
While the rain is falling gently on the roof it makes the sound
of a time that's long forgotten though it seems to hang around
I can hear you breathing lightly from an Irish dream I've known
it has come to Pennsylvania where you've found me here alone
       and I can feel you when you cry.
       So far from home, you wonder why,
       and it makes me want to die.

All the way from County Down there was a dream you had to find
you were long ago and far away, but always on my mind,
in your photograph your eyes are reaching out perhaps for me,
I can feel you when I see you but I never really see,
       what makes you think you have to cry?
       You must have known I'd wonder why,
       it still makes me want to die.

Can you hear the raindrops falling? County Down's so far away,
or perhaps it's just forgotten, like a dreary Irish day,
I can feel it when you're smiling, and I see it in your eyes
love is gone before you know it, and it's then I realize,
       it's made you think you have to cry.
       And through it all, not wonder why,
       it still makes me want to die.
©  ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: history, ireland, visionary, universe,

Celtic Love

      CELTIC LOVE
The paths we take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great Love of Jesus, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of spring,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.

In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is where we chose to be.

They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child with their hearts of stone
and Caesar put us out to where we choose to be
in Ireland, an emerald upon the sea,
to where, great mother, only you had known.

The wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place that two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.

You'll be as much a part of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, that destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.

Forget my past, remember just my way
of loving you both every night and every day
you'll have it all, if you can visualize,
that all you want is right before our eyes,
and Love of Jesus put it here to stay.
              © ron wilson aka Ron Arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Poem Details | by Dorian Petersen Potter |
Categories: holiday, ireland, love, usa,

Very Happy St Patricks Day - The FreeStyle

~Very Happy StPatrick's Day~
(Free Style)


StPatrick's Day
we're celebrating today
folks wear color green

They drink green beer and dance
and throw parades everywhere
people wear shamrocks

StPatrick's Day
is a day of magic
merry and laughter

people celebrate
drink eat, have fun with family friends
some also dance, have a ball

Might see a Leprechaun
or a pot just filled of gold
at the end of a rainbow

I wish you the best
may you enjoy this fun fare
all the entire day.


 

Dorian Petersen Potter
aka ladydp2000
copyright@2010


March.17.2017


“Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” 
- Mark Twain 


Wishing You And Yours a Very Happy And Safe StPatrick's Day! 


Poem Details | by Wayne Hill |
Categories: ireland, love,

I Dreamt of you my Irish Queen

With radiant smile upon your face,
A flowing gown across your breast,
adorned with rooting shades of green.
I dreamt of you my Irish queen.

Your hair a  streaming,  golden mass,
we merge across the darkened room,
dwelling in my nightly, misty dreams 
I dreamt of you my Irish queen.

A solid shore of unyielding force,
against the storms of frequent turmoil,
shelter from tides yet unseen.
I dreamt of you my Irish queen.

Peaceful nights under flickering stars,
we connect through lasting passion,
an ecstatic conveyance to places serene.
I dreamt of you my Irish queen.

In places of soothing splendor I see,
what two hearts can build in harmony.
Our nights blend to locations unforeseen.
I dreamt of you my Irish queen
 


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: ireland, love,

A Celtic Dream

         CELTIC DREAM
This land, as old as emerald's green
so delicate, a jewel serene
was hers and mine, a world at rest
from life that played out not at best,
seclusion from, "What do you mean?"

All things were understood in trust,
in love we lived, as if we must
forget about our times alone,
retreiving not the sword from stone,
and there we let it stay to rust.

No shining knights were there to see
nor axes carving destiny,
no blood would flow onto this land
except that God would have it planned,
from Dunloe Gap out to the sea.

All was too well, my love for her,
and she for me, be as it were,
and life, our greatest omnibus,
turned out to be the love of us,
and so in love is how we were.
© Ron wilson arbuthnot
akaVee Bdosa the Doylestown poet


Poem Details | by Pauly Plaster J.R. |
Categories: devotion, dream, girlfriend, i love you, inspiration, ireland,

True Goddess

This feeling washes over me in a cool wave, something that I am not familiar 
Within this life, it is strange Deja-VuA familiar yet vague feelingI know 
Your scentYou've put life back in the rickety bones of this ol' devilI'm 
Overwhelmed, I have yet to stop TremblingMy goose bumps have goose bumpsYou 
Truly are magickal in more ways than you could ever understandI have tears of 
Joy in my eyes and an undying love in my heartThis is an alien notionI'm 
Perplexed, I'm enthralled by youYou're realI know youI've always known 
YouAre you the memory of the Celtic goddess Dea Matrona? You are the fertile 
SoilTowards the Pantheon, onward driven up the mountainThere was youYou're 
The furthest from a strangerI want to reside within your bonesI'm the bird 
in you rib cageIt’s all trueThe scrying pound speaketh of youYour lips
Your flesh..My worshipMy praise beset by an unworthy tongueI hold no court 
For your true gloryYour light Burns so bright, I feel my atoms shall combust 
With a mere interaction with your divine gazeI'm a simple creature in the 
midst of holy notesMy mind and body could never fully decipherFodder for
spiritHoney of vibrationWater of colorI haven't any fearI welcome you.


Poem Details | by Dorian Petersen Potter |
Categories: holiday, ireland, love, usa,

Very Happy St Paddys Day - The Hotan Style

~Very Happy StPaddy's Day ~ (Hotan) St.Paddys day's here Now a day to celebrate Wear all green, laugh, eat, dance Just have fun To sound of music With nice tune Smile and be happy Wishing you today great time Just wear something green or you'll get pinched. Dorian Petersen Potter aka ladydp2000 copyright@2016
March.17.2017 “Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see.” - Mark Twain


Poem Details | by Victoria Anderson-Throop |
Categories: brother, fantasy, ireland, life, mythology,

BROTHERLY LOVE--CUCHULAINN'S CROSSING OF THE RIVER

CUCHULAINN'S CROSSING OF THE RIVER  (see BROTHERLY LOVE  part 2)

When warriors chant the songs of war
And toast the friends here and beyond
They hide the pain and dread that stalks--
And guilt that haunts evade those songs

Like Cuchulainn the mighty Celt
Who struts through myth in mighty pride
Ev'n this great hero bore great grief
When-- by his hand --his brother died

Songs forget this, stories glance
Upon the Fate of brother ‘s death--
But painters capture hopeless eyes
As mighty arms held fleeting breath

He tender- gathered brother then
And babelike carried him across a stream
And holding him --- all glory
Fled --as bloody truth belied his dreams

(based on painting….” Cuchaulainn Carries Ferdiad across the River”    Wikipedia)


Victoria Anderson-Throop
2013


Poem Details | by Earl Schumacker |
Categories: abuse, adventure, boat, funny love, ireland, voyage, wife,

Merrily Down The Stream

            Merrily Down The Stream

While on our honeymoon to Ireland our flight went down
It landed in the stormy ocean
My wife and I just married and in a hurry to leave town
Nobody drowned but we’re stuck in this commotion

People climbing over each other in the dark
We finally made our way to Dublin wet and tired
Showered in cold water as the boiler broke
And found our way to bed where we retired 

The Mrswas not happy and had other plans instead
She ran into the streets completely naked
Screwed anything that had a pulse and was not dead
And I was left alone to pay the check and waited

When she returned I forgave my holy whore
And took her once again back to the water
Put her in a tiny boat without an oar (or is it a paddle?)
And sent her up or down the stream… It doesn't matter

                                            7/16/14  Vacation Humor – Poetry contest


Poem Details | by Brendan Osborne |
Categories: grief, happiness, ireland, love, moving on, nature, spring,

Spring - A tribute to Lynn

It's trying to Spring today
In Dublin's Phoenix Park
The trees are rising from the ashes of Winter
Dressing in a tentative coat of green
Like a thin leafy thong.

Against a bright mixed sky
Two butterflies, or possibly moths,
-The suns' light making identification impossible-
Play tag for supremacy of the skies
Silhouetted in my squinting vision.

A chubby chap with equally chubby dog
Sits on a white bench walking his mate
Spattered by sunlight leaking thru leaves
Of the trees shading his seat
While doggy rustles about happily.

We converse a minute about far off places
And sunburn and the Irish skin
His standpoint underpinned by an anecdote
Remembered from a long time past
A slimmer time for man and beast perhaps.

My wanderings continue in a long lazy lap
Feeling the warmth on my nape
Deer wandering close to the dangerous humans
A childs' laughter carries to my ears
Excitement at the proximity to Rudolphs' pals.

Memories of happier times invade my thoughts
The ninety minutes eaten up with ease
Spring-like humour filtering down to drivers
Who stop, smiling, and invite my crossing
With a ballroom dancers exaggerated hand.

Returning to the island of my car
Feeling distant now from all I've encountered
Warmed from both effort and experience
I smile inwardly and selecting first
Drift out into the Easter Sunday traffic.


Poem Details | by Vee Bdosa |
Categories: ireland, marriage, pride,

Celtic Love

      CELTIC LOVE
The paths We take under the eye of god
and Universe, but some consider odd
Great Lord of Heaven, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of Spring,
and know from where our troubled feet have trod.

In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is the place we chose to be.

They laid to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not our children, with their hearts of stone
and Caeser put us out to where we choose to be
in Ireland, an emerald upon the sea,
to where, great Father, only you had known.

The Wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.

You'll be as much a part of all of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to its own, our destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.

© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Poem Details | by Eiken Laan |
Categories: daughter, love, happy, happy, ireland, sad,

My Sarah x

My daughter had to leave Ireland for workShe is teaching English in Madrid, Spain and is very happy thereShe was home during the summer and when she was leaving, I was so sad to see her go but happy that she is happyWe are all living in difficult times with this global recessionSad that our children have to leave their own country, the history of Ireland especially.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As you prepare to leave today,
I already miss you.
How fitting 
that the heavens
have opened
for another tearful
 “goodbye”.

I hear you in the kitchen.
The sound of you
comforts me.
Cooking is your ritual,
writing is mine.

I will immerse myself
in words
and you
will be part of them,
for you 
are a part of me.

What a blessing
to see the essence of me
carry through
in you.

MMC 2011


Poem Details | by Chris Boskovski |
Categories: beautiful, beauty, cute love, for her, ireland, love, romance, romantic,

Love me in Ireland

To live with you, my rose
be the most wonderful gift given to me;
before life, my love
you matter the most in my life,
love me and live with me
in the rushing green low lands of Ireland
in the Irish Springs of Dublin
as we sit and pick lilacs;
see the sweat break at my brow
shaking in nervousness
to give you a single kiss upon your sweet, soft lips;
come now with me, my dear,
to live in the prairie lands
in old Dublin.

We shall go on then, my dear,
and create sweet memories
under such silent stars,
which paint the night sky in beauty,
and the silver laced moon shine upon our cabin door,
as we break the silence of the starlit night.
Come now, my love;
my dear, and love me,
living in the Prairie lands of old, green Ireland.

.12.18.2013.


Poem Details | by David O'Haolin Whalen |
Categories: endurance, ireland, love hurts, prison, stress,

Of't Times The Only Way Out

When it seems you can’t Get over it…well then The Best way out is through


Poem Details | by Stephen Allen |
Categories: inspirational, introspection, ireland, life, love, nature,

Opus

And there are words, often useless, often noise
Sometimes they are more
Small pieces of a history set free
Bit by bit they leave and take
Small shards of what I used to be
 
And I am less, yet I am somehow more for the loss
Fallen to the ground, or received
Parts of me are gone, never again to be found
If heard, if understood, they live on in another
As I become unbound
 
In a here that never was,
Shared with what always was…
What will always be…as it was in the beginning
Is now…and always will be
More words spoken in the dark night
 
And I pray, though I am not a Christian
I meditate, though the East is but a dream
And the words rise
I release what is left of me
So little remains to be said
 
When they are done
There will be peace
Empty to accept
That I am
With nothing left to say.