In Kippagh By The Hills

High above the lake where the Cails waters rise The lark in the May towards the cloud World flies Like a musical speck in the sky he does sing Proclaiming his territory in latter Spring. The hawthorns are cloaked in their blooms white to gray When wildflowers are in bloom in high fields far away And nesting songbirds sing for to greet the day In Kippagh by the hills in the prime of the May. Were I a poet of such beauty I would write A poem for lovers of poetry for to read and recite When the nesting wild birds of Nature are on song Even sight unseen by their voices one cannot get them wrong. In fancy I'm back in the old fields again And Kippagh is looking lusher and greener after recent rain And the dipper is singing where the Cails waters flow Inland from the bracken by ditch and hedgerow.