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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.....