I Only Have Memories

Perhaps i will never see Clara again
And hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain
When Spring in the old fields is spreading her green
And bluebells are blooming on ditch of the bohreen

Where i used to daydream that i would be a poet
One seen to be worthy of literary note
But daydreams are just that and seldom come true
And fame as a wordsmith would not be my due

In Claraghatlea near Millstreet my first homeplace
To many there today mine would be a stranger's face
The mentors of my young years in their long rest lay
And the years have left me looking older and gray

In the silver tongued stream babbling from Claramore
To the waterways bound for the Atlantic shore
The white breasted dipper is singing today
Where the old fields are wearing their flowers of the May

Whilst chasing flying insects their prey in the sky
The dark barn swallows do chirp as they fly
And a bird that i have known for many a year
The song of the robin i fancy i hear

In reality the place i called home is no longer home to me
And the face of old Clara i may never more see
Perhaps the now is all that matters and the clock it ticks on
And i only have memories of Seasons long gone.