On My Flights Of Fancy

On my flights of fancy i often do go far away
To Claramore Wood in the prime of the May
Overlooking the green countryside by Millstreet Town
In the gray of the twilight just after sundown
In the calm of the evening in the bloom of the Spring
The wild born nesting birds whistle and sing
Most birds recognizable by appearance or chirp or song
When you hear and see them a few times you never again get them wrong
The mental images of what was today are with me
When i visualize in my mind's eye i see
Clusters of pale blossoms on every hawthorn tree
The past it lives in us in our memory
The good memories of what was to my thoughts ever near
And when i visualize the nesting songbirds i do hear.