In my dreams I see a place
Which in my memory I can trace,
Within a vale on Erin’s Isle,
On a road beside a stile.
Overlooking a field of golden corn,
Leading to the cot where I was born.
It was just there in noon’s full glare,
I fell bewitched by her auburn hair;
She walked as straight as any rush,
The grass her feet did gently brush;
To speak I could not find my tongue,
I was shy and very young.
She simply smiled on gliding by,
Her eyes the blue of a summer sky;
Each a delicate ‘Forget-Me-Not’,
Enraptured I stood upon that spot.
Watching her perfect form depart,
As Cupid’s arrows pierced my heart.
From whence she came I do not know,
And after her I did not go;
In all my wanderings beyond the foam,
I still dream of my Irish home;
To me that Colleen is still there,
Young and fresh with her auburn hair.
Monty Alexander 2.3.96