The Past Returns To Me

Just a couple of kilometres from the Town of Millstreet
To that beautiful place where the waterways meet
And only the memories with me now remain
Of a place that I may never visit again
In memory it does seem that time has stood still
Of the old rushy fields in view of Clara hill
Where among the long grass from view hidden away
A male pheasant is cucking on an evening in May
Memories of such beauty do not fade in a day
They live in the mind until the Reaper on one's life's has the say
And memories are all I  have left to retain
Of a place that I may never visit again
The past returns to me when I visualize
And a male chaffinch is singing on a Spring sunrise.