I thought that i had left Duhallow but Duhallow it has followed me
The old fields in view of the Boggeraghs on my flights of fancy i see
The people i know in Duhallow i meet them when i visualize
Though in my mental images they remain young they would have aged i realize
On the day that i left old Duhallow a cold rain was drizzling down
From a gray wintry sky in the evening as the migrant bus left Millstreet Town
I hoped to return in the Springtime when the fields wear their flowers of the May
But i did not return to Duhallow as the swallows do from far away
I first saw light of day in Duhallow but that was a long time ago
And i am in the Autumn of my existence since time it has become my foe
The boys and girls i went to school with like me would known of a better day
Some of them like me did migrate and some where the dead are do lay
I thought that i had left Duhallow but Duhallow in me did remain
And often on my flights of fancy i visit the old fields again.
Saturday, June 18, 2016
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