The Now Is What Matters

An ageing man well past my physical prime
I have not seen the home fields for more than three decades of time
And only the memories I have to retain
Of what used to be for me but may not be again
Where old Clara Mountain as ever looks down
Today I would be a stranger to many in Millstreet Town
Where I used to be well known many now would say
Who is that old fellow of hair silver gray
Old memories do remain as a source of joy
Of where I grew to love Nature when I was a boy
The old fields just west of the Town of Millstreet
In the green countryside where the waterways meet
And though the memories remain the past it has gone
And the now is what matters and life does go on.