Make Love To Ireland

I want to make love to you Ireland,
one last time before I go.
Place a kiss in every county,
run my fingers through your hedgerows.
Lick you all around your outline,
you’ve got such a sexy coast:
Malin Head To Mizen Head,
Mmmmmmm,
tastes like Cheese & Onion Tayto.

I want to ride you like a lovely horse,
I want to take that horse to France,
I want to make you feel the way you made me feel
when I first saw Riverdance.
Or like Sally O’ Brien,
and the way she looked at me,
with her furtive, durty glance,
making me feel a little funny
in my Italia ’90 pants.

I want to make you moan,
like an auld wan going on about the rain,
Moaning, like Roy Keane going home,
and losing on penalties to Spain.
or oooohh!
The price of rent!
or aaawwwwhhhh!
The Catholic shame!
or nnnnggggghhhhh!
The RTE Player stops working
in the middle of The Sunday Game.

And when we make love, it’ll be better
than the opening of the Navan bypass.
Hungry love, and so very unfettered,
Like the end of a Lenten fast.
I will snorkel in your bog,
Until you’re hotter and wetter
than a summer in your Sally Gap.
And then, at last, we’ll have a greater coming together
than there was at the Papal Mass.

But our love is like a TD’s promise,
in the morning it’ll be gone.
There’s an Aer Lingus flight,
and I must be on it,
But I will never love anyone,
the way I made love to you, Ireland,
So right (and also, so wrong.)
I’m off to marry another country
But please know that when I do it
I’ll have my Italia ‘90 pants on.

***

My book, “Corn Flakes for Dinner – a heartbreaking comedy about family life,” (Gill Books) is available online and in all good Irish bookstores.

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