They Told Some Great Yarns

The stories of aging men i used to enjoy By the peat fires on Winter nights when i was a boy Are now fading memories of the what used to be And one of the aging nowadays is me They did have good yarns and did tell them well Though such stories as they had i do not have to tell Born to be storytellers their likes we will not see again And only the memories of them with me does remain Their stories died with them which does seem a shame And the Parish without them did not seem the same Each decade brings changes few things seem to last And all we have left are memories of the past For to tell a good story they became widely known One might say of them in a class of their own They told some great yarns by the glowing and warm peat fire The mentors of my boyhood them i did admire.