Years ago in Ireland when
Grandma made a stew,
she added potatoes to some
meat, it served more then a few.
That clan was born on the
emerald Isle, little more is know that that,
except that one day on that
island dreary,
Thomas Moore met Hannah
Cleary.
When that Green and luscious
country had run all out of spuds,
Thomas and his Hannah packed
up all their duds.
They set sail for America,
the land of all those free,
a voyage that's the root
of our Irish family tree.
The missing puzzle pieces
at this time are still unclear,
though it's know that Tom
and Hannah bore one son that's very dear.
Alone Hannah raised her
one son James, this is part of history,
the whereabouts of Thomas
to this day is still a mystery.
Some say he went back to
fight the Irish War,
but we'll never really know
what happened to the long lost Thomas Moore.
Well James went on to college
and became a pharmacist,
in the city of New Haven
drawn to the harbor mist..
He met a lass named Catherine,
she was a Sanderson,
though he an Irish Catholic,
her Scottish heart he won.
Together they were happy
and raised a clan of eight,
their numbers kept on multiplying
this we know to date.
As this Irish/Scottish family
settled down by the sea,
clothes were handed down
to the next on Grandpa's Knee.
Catherine raised the children
and James worked long and hard,
as the kids went off each
day to the St. Peter's church school yard.
James, Thomas, Raymond,
Catherine, Mike and Mary too
followed by
Walter and Robert down by the harbor
blue.
They all grew up and played
by the City Point docks,
with seagulls overhead above
the jetty rocks.
Well, one day this fine
family had a day so dark and sad,
a heart attack had stolen
their husband and their dad.
But the thick and hearty
family held together true,
and soon the melting pot
added to the stew,
As several of the brother,
trudged off to war,
all Americans joined forces
to even up the score.
This opened up the cover
to the family's simmering stew,
and one by one they married
to another you know who.
They added French and Swedish
and Polish to the pot,
a dab or two of English
and what ever else you got!
Bob and Dorothy, Mary, Ruth
and Ben, Martha, June and Marilyn.
"Go forth and be fruitful"
and so they did,
as one by one they proclaimed
"We're having another kid."
From the first baby Robin
to the last little Joe,
twenty eight Moore babies,
will the pot overflow?
Each family went their separate
ways, but gathered every year,
to the memorial Day picnic
which drew the family near.
We'd watch the parade and
eat at Mary's house,
til the next generation
brought home another spouse.
We moved the celebration
to sheltered Painter Park,
played volleyball and horseshoes
from dawn until dark.
A little touch of Italy,
then two and three and four,
pasta galore it's Irish
stew no more!
Mozzarella, Ricotta cheese,
pass the Parmesan if you please.
A little wine, oregano too,
tomato paste adds to the taste.
There's probably other nationalities
who, add a little pinch or two.
As we stir and we blend
our stew simmers nice,
when suddenly we add a touch
of Oriental spice.
Today we sit together at
Jane's cottage by the sea,
lights a twinkling round
and round the Merry Christmas tree.
Our table is now blended
with ethnic foods of choice,
this clan is still together
for this we all rejoice.
so now you see the mixture
that developed in one pot,
not to rich, a little thick,
spicy not to hot.
Once blended together cannot
be split apart,
because the stock is Irish
based - right from the heart.
And if you let it sit and
simmer just a while,
the next wee generation
will add a pinch o'smile.....