In Fancy

In fancy i can hear the silver back crow
Cawing on a beech tree near where Finnow waters flow
On towards the Blackwater to the sea far away
In a tongue never silent by night or by day
Resplendent in their wildflowers the old fields looking lush and green
And the bluebells in full bloom on the ditch of Bohreen
And the hawthorn are cloaked in their white blooms of the May
And the cattle out of wintering sheds on silage and hay
On nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day
Nice memories live on as the wise one does say
In fancy i walk again as a boy in late Spring
On a pleasant evening in the old fields listening to the birds sing
The gift of imagination is such a great thing
The past to the present to you it does bring.