I Only Have Memories

Perhaps i will never see Clara again And hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain When Spring in the old fields is spreading her green And bluebells are blooming on ditch of the bohreen Where i used to daydream that i would be a poet One seen to be worthy of literary note But daydreams are just that and seldom come true And fame as a wordsmith would not be my due In Claraghatlea near Millstreet my first home place To many there today mine would be a stranger's face The mentors of my young years in their long rest lay And the years have left me looking older and gray In the silver tongued stream babbling from Claramore To the waterways bound for the Atlantic shore The white breasted dipper is singing today Where the old fields are wearing their flowers of the May Whilst chasing flying insects their prey in the sky The dark barn swallows do chirp as they fly And a bird that i have known for many a year The song of the robin i fancy i hear In reality the place i called home is no longer home to me And the face of old Clara i may never more see Perhaps the now is all that matters and the clock it ticks on And i only have memories of Seasons long gone.