In The Ageless Old Fields

A long way from here this far southern shore To old Claraghatlea by the road to Rathmore But the fields of my youth do not seem far away For in fancy I do visit there every day. In the ageless old fields where the rank rushes grow The rivers often bank high to the Blackwater flow In distance quite far but the memories remain And in memory I walk on the home ground again. The stormwater gurgling in the roadside drain And the robin he sings in the wind and the rain The Spring brings her wildflowers and blossoms of May Though we must live in the now as some are known to say. The silver billed magpie is fluting on the black wattle tree And in the Townpark the bird known as pee wee Is singing his song in the morning sunshine In weather for months that has been warm and fine.