A Duhallow Spring

On The Boggeragh Ranges not one trace of snow
As the cool winds of Spring in Duhallow do blow
And the nesting birds singing on trees and on every hedgerow
In the green countryside where the Blackwater flow

Spring in Duhallow is a green time of year
As the weather grows warmer with the Summer drawing near
The swallows home to breed for their annual five to six months stay
Above the fields on pursuit of flying insect prey

Out of farmyard sheds from months of eating silage and hay
On nutritious young grass cattle gaining weight by the day
And the migratory nest parasite cuckoo it's voice familiar to hear
Is quite unmistakeable and pleasantly clear

Hidden among the rank rushes the male pheasant crow
Of the offsprings he fathers he will never know
And the piping of the curlew for to hear quite a beautiful thing
A fond memory to retain of a Duhallow Spring

The territorial drumming of the male snipe as darkness cloaks the sky
As above his marshy breeding territory to and fro he does fly
Memories of a Duhallow Spring a lifetime does remain
In visualizations for to visit again.