My name is Mitch L'Herault and I live in Verona Wisconsin. When I'm not playing guitar in a terrific Irish Band, I keep the house picked up, cook and report to my day job m-f. I love to read and write poetry.

Halfway To Doolin

Songs of the heart much older than I,

makes a man wander and not wonder why.

Land near the Shannon of heather and glen.

Searching for music and muses and men.

North to the wildwood and Sligo's dirt drone.

South to Killarney, O'Leary's old bones.

Up in the morning fresh trout in a creel.

Halfway to Doolin. That's how I feel

Tommy and Michael and Kenneth and Paul,

Eileen and Evy. I met with them all.

Chowder and brown bread much laughter about.

Bring on the music, and bring on the stout.

On through the night the turf burns ablaze.

The dancers get weary. The fiddler is dazed.

Let's have more music! Strathespey or Reel.

Halfway to Doolin. That's how I feel

Yeats in a corner and Joyce just arrived.

O'Connor's been drinking. These ghosts are alive.

Who built the stone church so long ago?

Saint Patrick's parish? Could it be so?

Hold on to memory lest you forget.

Ireland's two circles where two circles met.

When I hear north winds that sound like a reel

Halfway to Doolin. That's how I feel

Copyright 2003 by Mitch L'Herault