Friday, July 24, 2015

Perhaps Never More To See Old Mushera

Perhaps never more to see old Mushera or to hear the birds on a Spring dawn
Singing on the leafy hedgerows and in the groves of Tooreenbawn
Yet i have the pleasant memories and they will be till death with me
Of the happy times i have known back there in the what used to be
On my pleasant flights of fancy wood pigeons cooing on the pine trees
At the foot of Mushera Mountain in the freshening April breeze
Most migrants of the past have their memories and the good memories i do retain
Of the years when i was younger when in the gray clouds of rain
High above the slopes of Mushera i could hear the skylark sing
Mottled brown bird of wild places to sing has to take to wing
Yet the past has gone forever as the wise person does say
We can only live in the present and the present is today
Perhaps never more to see old Mushera and to watch the swallows fly
Above the fields by the mountain chasing flying insects in the sky.

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