Through long years of absence my past is with me
In fancy the gray fog on Clara i see
Hiding the steel cross on it's summit that stand
By old memories the flames of nostalgia are fanned
Like many of my sort a migrant is the best i can hope to be
And of good or bad memories few of us are free
We brought them with us from a land far away
And they will be with us until our lives final day
Memories of where i grew to love Nature as a young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
Her lessons to us are not of the few
And every day of her we learn something new
To the green countryside where the waterways meet
On my flights of fancy i return to Millstreet.
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