The Rill From High Claramore

In the flat fields of Claraghatlea from it's source by the hill It babbles towards the river the Claramore Rill A waterway that has inspired the writers of story and rhyme That will flow on forever through the centuries of time It's clear pools are home to the speckled brown trout Quite visible on a sunny day swimming about The moment they see you they dash under the cover of the bank for to hide One of their secrets of survival is to have fear on their side The true age of the waterways can never be told In the age of the dinosaurs they were very old Centuries of Seasons have come and centuries of Seasons have gone But the ageless old waterways as ever flow on As will the rill from high Claramore That flows to the rivers to the far ocean shore.