For old Claraghatlea and the long gone years
And the what used to be i have shed my last tears
My better years are in the forever gone
And life all around me as usual goes on
At the stroke of midnight the past will be today
The now is all that does matter as the wise one does say
The past just a memory of the what used to be
And time that does not wait for anyone did not wait for me
Yet on my flights of fancy i sometimes do hear and see
A male robin singing on a silver birch tree
Just before sundown on an evening in Spring
The great gift of memory is such a beautiful thing
Though old memories die hard only true for to say
I feel happy enough in my life today
In the home of echidna, wallaby, emu, koala and gray kangaroo
And the big dark brown parrot known as yellow tailed black cockatoo
Yet i often do think of a Summer sundown
In an old rushy field just west of Millstreet Town
In the calm of the evening the soft lowing of a cow
As she calls to her calf by the River Finnow
And as the shades of night sloqwly darken the sky
The male snipe for to proclaim his borders does fly
And with his tail feathers makes a drumming sound
Well into the night above his breeding ground
The past it has gone and only the memories remain
Of what used to be but will not be again
Of when i was younger before time became my foe
Far north in Duhallow in the long ago.
Saturday, November 25, 2017
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