In Groves Of Kilmeedy

In groves of Kilmeedy from here far away
The wild birds of Nature are not singing today
The winds of November blow with a cold chill
Above the high fields in view of Clara Hill

In groves of Kilmeedy no leaves on the deciduous trees
And the weather temperature just above zero degrees
But the migrant redwing thrushes from the colder northlands back on their wintering ground
In the fields of Kilmeedy in numbers they abound

From Clara's Hill i first saw Kilmeedy when i was a boy
In their greeness of Spring a scene for to enjoy
When the migratory dark barn swallows avian speedsters of the sky
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunlight did fly

In the groves of Kilmeedy four months from the Spring
The deciduous trees are bare and the birds do not sing
But i have a fond memory of long before time became my foe
On a Spring evening from Clara looking down on Kilmeedy many decades ago.