A Memory Of Long Gone Years

The song of the robins I fancy I hear
In Claramore wood in the Spring of the year
A memory from long gone years I do retain
Despite the passing of time in me it does remain
On my flights of fancy my thoughts often stray
In the twilight after sunset on evenings in May
In the high wood by Clara the robins did sing
Their distinctive and familiar songs in the prime of the Spring
But this in retrospect seems so long ago
And since time that ages has become my foe
In the distance the flickering street lights of Millstreet Town
Bordered by the darkening fields in day's fading light post sundown
A memory to cherish and with me to stay
For as long as I live until my dying day.