South South West of Tralee,
The most western part of the land
For thousands of years people lived there
With flocks of sheep on a hillside
And each had a cow of his
own while , in unfertile land
Potatoes were grown.
A place that writers called home.
Never did pen kiss asper so sweet
As when it’s writers wrote of sea and
of gull
And eyes that stared through windows of lace
Absorbing the rhythm of life’s easy pace
Firers blazed
all year round
Coooking the fish and Lobsters they found
Worldly contact was eight miles away
Over a mountain to Dingle Bay
And never a one did ever stay
For the islands called Herchildren back home
to the gull the sea and to play.