The accent of Duhallow in me does remain
Except for the memories this is all of the past i retain
And why i have lost my nostalgia beyond me to explain
In the old fields just west of the Town of Millstreet
I may never more walk to where the waterways meet
Or on an evening in Spring in a field near River Finnow
Hear the soft lowing to her calf of a cow
It was my yearn for travel that took me away
From where i first looked on the bright lamp of day
In Claraghatlea a short walk to the Claramore Rill
With the babbling tongue that is never still
Only memories and the accent remain with me today
Of a place that i lived in from here far away.
No comments:
Post a Comment