It May Not Be In Duhallow

I have lived through many a Season my life's journey's end cannot be far away But it may not be in Duhallow that i will spend my last night and day And i may never more see the Boggeraghs half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain Or see tadpoles their long tails wriggling in Summer in the dark pool of a drain Or hear the nesting songbirds singing in a leafy grove of the Spring I feel lucky to have my gift of memory to have such is a beautiful thing I retain the beautiful image of bluebells on the ditch of a bohreen I count it as a sort of a blessing to retain memories of Nature's beauty i have seen Us humans are born as mortals why otherwise even pretend And like all i am on a life's journey that for me will come to an end in my seventy years of living life's roads i have been up and down A journey that began in Duhallow in the countryside near Millstreet Town And it well may not be in Duhallow that i will spend my last night and day Of what was i only have memories and the clock on my life ticks away.