Because I Love To Write

I do not write rhymes for money or glory
I only write because i love to write
And it bothers me none if the stuff i have written
Is not the type that readers do read or recite

I live far south of where i first saw daylight
From where the life's journey for me began
In Claraghatlea in view of old Clara Mountain
Where i lived as a boy and grew into a man

I thought that i had lost migrant nostalgia
Only for to learn that thought had proved me wrong
I do admit to for yearning for what has been
Whenever i do hear an Irish song

For twenty four years i have lived out of Ireland
And in twenty four years there is many a night and day
I am getting on in years into my sixties
And time on me keeps ever ticking away

Doubtless it is a changed place Millstreet in Duhallow
And not many people there i now would know
But in my dreams the Finnow River is babbling
And i hear the harsh cawing of the silver backed crow

I write for the love of it and little else more
And for many years i have been a rhyming buff
And still the rhymes to me they do keep on coming
I am one who has penned reams and reams of stuff

I write rhymes because it is something i like doing
And i will go on penning for as long as i can
I would feel a stranger now by Clara Mountain
And here i will always be a migrant man.