Friday, March 22, 2013


When the groves of Duhallow are leafy and green
And the bluebells in bloom on the ditch of bohreen
And the hawthorns are cloaked in their white blossoms of May
My thoughts often go to old fields far away

When the dunnock and wren sing in the hedgerow
Near where babbling Finnow to the Blackwater flow
And  the flute of the curlew echoes in the sky
Above the brown bog as he circle and fly

When the skylark to herald the northern Spring
High above the green bracken does carol and sing
And swallows home to breed from warm lands far away
Chase flying insects above  the fields in the bright light of day

When the robins provide for their young family
And the chaffinch does sing on the  leafy birch tree
My thoughts  do return to the fields by the hill
And in fancy i hear the babble of the rill

When the cattle out of Wintering sheds weight by the day gain
On grass that is lush after recent Spring rain
The memories of what was till death we will retain
And the past can be nice for to visit again.

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