The Boggeragh Ranges are whitened by snow
And the cold winds of February above the deserted fields blow
The rivers bank high with a loud babble flow
And hunger in the harsh cawing of the silver backed crow
When the sun seldom shines and the sky is seldom clear
February in Duhallow is a cold and wet time of year
The cattle in farmyard sheds living on silage and hay
More than halfway through Winter yet Spring seems far away
On a morning just above the zero degrees
The mottled brown redwing thrushes chirping on bare deciduous trees
In a few weeks they will follow their natural need
When they will wing their way home to the north lands to breed
In any Duhallow town in February
A tourist one seldom is likely to see
It is not a good month for the tourist trade
And little money from visitors can expect to be made
In Duhallow in February the birds do not sing
And yet it is not many weeks from the Spring
The water flowing bank high in every river and rill
And the wind from the boggeraghs blows with a cold chill.
No comments:
Post a Comment