Saturday, September 25, 2010

In Summer In Lisnaboy

Summer school holidays as a youngster was a thing that I used to enjoy
In Cullen with my uncle Dan and my aunt Mary on their farm in Lisnaboy
In the sunlit meadows of Duhallow the pleasant aroma of hay
Good memories of what was last a lifetime and till death with us destined to stay.

The skylark up from the rank rushes to sing in the clouds he did fly
Upwards as he flew he kept singing till he became a musical speck in the sky
His musical notes are still with me in fancy him I often hear
Fond memories of what was so pleasant and to me remain ever near.

One can only live in the present though our memories are of the past
The Seasons and years do pass quickly and time it keeps on ticking fast
The house sparrows Nature's famous chirpers keep chirping in the leafy hedgerow
Far from here I had my first lessons on Nature and my love for her ever does grow.

The sweet scent of meadow hay and the birdsong in the leafy groves of July
And the swallows chasing flying insects airborne travellers of the sky
Are things that I do remember long before the years left me looking gray
In Summer in Lisnaboy in Duhallow long ago and from here far away.

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