The Rill From High Claramore

In the flat fields of Claraghatlea from it's source by the hill
It babbles towards the river the Claramore Rill
A waterway that has inspired the writers of story and rhyme
That will flow on forever through the centuries of time
It's clear pools are home to the speckled brown trout
Quite visible on a sunny day swimming about
The moment they see you they dash under the cover of the bank for to hide
One of their secrets of survival is to have fear on their side
The true age of the waterways can never be told
In the age of the dinosaurs they were very old
Centuries of Seasons have come and centuries of Seasons have gone
But the ageless old waterways as ever flow on
As will the rill from high Claramore
That flows to the rivers to the far ocean shore.