Till The Day We Do Die

Today in the fields where the Blackwater flow
Among the rank rushes the cock pheasant crow
And a musical speck in the gray of the sky
The mottled brown skylark does sing as he fly

On a balmy day in the Summer in the prime of July
The dark cormorant out of water stretches her wings out to dry
On my flights of fancy such beauty i see
I left the old fields but the fields followed me

The sun shining bright in the sky blue and gray
And plump cattle on lush grass chewing their cuds lay
The dark barn swallows in pursuit of flying insects as they fly do sing
Migratory birds who do spend most of their waking hours on the wing

Old memories remain in me as a source of joy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Where the chirps and songs of some birds i came to know
And my wonder of Nature today only grow

The past may be gone but the memories of it remain
And in fancy i often visit Duhallow again
Those who say the past has gone believe in their own lie
As the past will be in us till the day we do die.