In Memory I Walk In The Old Fields Again

From the place i was born and raised in i live far away
And to many there i would be a stranger today
Since many i knew there are deceased and others from there did migrate
That to few things stay the same i too can relate

In Claraghatlea west of Millstreet where my journey in life began
Where i lived as a boy and grew into a man
The changes keep happening there i have been told
From there the young migrating and the stay at home getting old

But the old fields i loved would still look much the same
Some of them i knew by their given name
And old Clara Mountain does ever look down
On the green countryside west of Millstreet Town

Such beautiful memories are mine to enjoy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Where i grew to know birds by their chirps or their song
In most of us the bond to memory remains ever strong

When the brown flood water was flowing bank high in the stream of the brown trout
The lust of the wander did take me far south
Of the green countryside where the waterways meet
In the flat rushy fields near the Town of Millstreet

With brown storm water flowing bank high in every drain
In memory i walk in the old fields again
Listening to the wild birds in the leaf budding groves sing
On a gray April afternoon near the prime of the Spring.