The Town of Oughterard

      There is a town in Connemara

      It’s the gateway to the west

Where thousands come each year to see

     A landscape that is the best.

     It is the town of Oughterard

          Most pretty to behold

     A favourite place for anglers

     They come here young and old.

     It’s always bright and breezy

        Beside the Corrib shore

    Its people are so friendly still

        As in the days of yore.

    They bid each other a welcome

    To their lovely town each year

        And people keep returning

     To this place of joy and cheer.

     The fishing starts in spring

         The mayflies in demand

      Great excitement everywhere

      The town it soon gets jammed.

      The strains of Irish music

          Are floating in the air

       The season it is started

          No one has a care.

       The area is historical

       As O Fflahertie’s stronghold

 For years they fought the Normans

        The famous tribes of old

      We still have their great castle

         Right here in Aughnanure

 To remind us of those stirring days

       When fighting was the cure.

      So in Oughterard the scene is set

         For yet another year

 When tourists they come back again

        To fill us all with cheer

 And this pattern it goes on and on

        And we keep growing old

       And always been reminded

       Of the blessings here untold.

 “ Oughterard Newsletter” May 2003