Memories Remain

I have not been to my first home-place for twenty nine years And for the what used to be i have shed my last tears But on my flights of fancy the Claramore rill Babbles towards Claraghatlea down the fields by the hill Where mine years ago was a familiar face Today i would be a stranger to many in my first home-place And with only mental images of them to retain So many i knew i will not see again The boys and girls of the fifties have known a better day And some of them where the deceased are now lay Time that does not wait for anyone did not wait for me But on my flights of fancy i often do see Old Clara half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain The past may be gone but the memories remain.