They Told Some Great Yarns

The stories of aging men i used to enjoy
By the peat fires on Winter nights when i was a boy
Are now fading memories of the what used to be
And one of the aging nowadays is me

They did have good yarns and did tell them well
Though such stories as they had i do not have to tell
Born to be storytellers their likes we will not see again
And only the memories of them with me does remain

Their stories died with them which does seem a shame
And the Parish without them did not seem the same
Each decade brings changes few things seem to last
And all we have left are memories of the past

For to tell a good story they became widely known
One might say of them in a class of their own
They told some great yarns by the glowing and warm peat fire
The mentors of my boyhood them i did admire.