The Changes Keep Happening In Millstreet

In Millstreet County Cork the changes keep happening as i have been told
That it is not the Millstreet of the days of old
A new generation the years come and go
And time as is often said becomes everyone's foe

But old Clara Mountain as ever looks down
On the fields and the houses of Duhallow's Millstreet Town
And the River Finnow towards the Blackwater flow
In the fields where the rushes in clusters do grow

The countryside looks the same but facts never lie
That people grow older and eventually die
In the Millstreet of today mine to many would be a stranger's face
And where i once was well known i might seem out of place

Far north of this countryside by Warrnambool
I first saw light of day and went to primary school
My best physical years of life i spend in Millstreet
In the green countryside where the waterways meet

Of a place to my thoughts that remain ever dear
The changes keep happening in Millstreet i hear
But changes occurring almost everywhere
In towns and villages and cities in the big World out there.

Why Worry About The Making Of Lots Of Money

Why worry about the making of lots of money the thing that gives rise to fame
When the reaper of lives treats the lives of the paupers and the billionaires as the same
You may be the town's wealthiest person but some evening, night, morning or day
The one who is known to claim all lives will surely come reaping your way
The one who cannot be bought with money is the one everybody does fear
That life's reaper is the great equalizer to everyone is obviously clear
You may feel that you are irreplaceable but as the wise person did say
A lot of people who felt this way are now where the deceased does lay
That money does speak every language a truthful saying one must suppose
But the common weed of the garden does have the same fate as the rose
No man or woman lives forever we all becomes victims of time
You may say he or she does look young but we quickly age past our lives prime
You may wish that you had more money but it is a fact the known billionaire
With the poorest person in the suburb a common fate is destined to share.

He May Not Be There

He may not be there when the deciduous trees sprout new leaves of green
And the bluebells are in bloom on the ditch of the bohreen
And the robin on song on a silver birch tree
Many Springs have gone by since the home fields he last see
He works to support his young son and daughter and their mother his wife
And he does feel quite content in his way of life
Yet he often visualizes the fields far away
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And the old country town near to his first home place
Where a decade ago to many his was a known face
Where he feels he might feel a stranger today
Time brings about changes as the wise one does say
He may not be there when the fields lush and green in their nature's flowers
Will look quite resplendent after mild Spring showers.

At A Time When

At a time when natural beauty than usual more rare
The wattles their clusters of yellow flowers wear
But at all times in Nature some beauty to see
And a pride of the Winter a flowering wattle tree

On this sunny July day a male blackbird does sing
His voice many do associate with Spring
With his silent wife he is building a nest
And to defend his borders his song serves him best

Though the workings of Nature beyond me to understand
I see beauty in Winter in this southern Land
The flute of the magpie can be heard day and night
How pleasant to hear him singing in the moonlight

So little of Nature's ways i can claim to know
But my wonderment of her it only does grow
Of her i do learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way

Not one rain cloud to be seen in the blue and gray sky
And the sun out and shining on this last day of July
The dawning of August will take us one day more near
To September the birth of the Spring of the year.

It Lives In My Head

It lives in my head as an unforgettable song
Wherever i go to my past with me comes along
And like most other migrants old memories in me does last
The gift of memory keeps us linked to the past
In my visualizations i often see Finnow River in flood waters of brown
Flowing bank high in the old fields close to Millstreet Town
And the croaking of breeding frogs in the waterlogged drain
And old Clara half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
Beautiful memories of what was for me are with me today
Of the fields lush and green in their wildflowers of May
Though no Country in the world in that i would rather be
Than in this Southern Land which is now home to me.

The Fans Of The Premiers

The fans of the football club have won the right to brag
Of their team who have won the premiership flag
Till closing time in the pub they do sing the club song
To the winners the joy of victory does belong
Among the losing fans the silence almost profound
The sadness at their team's loss in beer they try to drown
But only time itself will take their pain away
Of ending up losers on grand final day
But is life that much different to a game of football
Of the joy and laughter the winners take all
And though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
For some for to win others do have to lose
The fans of the football premiers tonight celebrate
And in the pub they will party on till late.

Sadly The Humble

Many will tell you that the humble in life never get to anywhere
That they never become the successful of the big World out there
In this age of self promotion to publicize your latest achievement is a natural thing
And so many their own praises quite willing to sing
The elitist and narcissistic are not rare today
And that the humble are becoming rarer it does seem this way
So many nowadays with inflated sense of self esteem
The look at me syndrome gone viral it does seem
Many of those born into poverty their lifetime to live as poor destined to stay
And that the arrogant and self conceited are ruling the World does seem sad to say
Everyday the ambitious and arrogant not lacking in self conceit
For recognition and success with each other compete
And in a World where many look up to every known millionaire
Sadly the humble are becoming rare.