A Walk By The Old Finnow River by Francis Duggan

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A Walk By The Old Finnow River

A walk by the old Finnow river
A thing that I used to enjoy
I had my first lessons in Nature
When I was a very young boy.

With a flap of wings from the river pool
The wild mallard ducks rose up to the sky
They did seem quite fearful of people
And they quacked loudly as they did fly.

Like tiny feathered balls young moorhens out swimming
From the water reeds their worried mum to them did cry
And they swam to cover to join her
And heed her warning of danger nearby.

Brown trout in the quiet pools were jumping
Flying insects to their taste buds taste sweet
And nesting songbirds were whistling and singing
On hedgerows and in groves of Millstreet.

Since then I have lived through many Seasons
And I've seen many Springs come and go
And wildflowers bloom in Spring and Summer
In the fields where the old Finnow flow.

Francis Duggan

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Bob Gibson (7/6/2008 1:26:00 AM)
This poem reminded me of my childhood, among the marsh's and reed beds of my home town, collecting birds eggs in a shoe box lined with cotton wool, swapping a mallard for a'dare i say it! swans egg, the queens bird! thanks for the memories Francis

Neel Khokhani (7/6/2008 1:15:00 AM)
very nice...good write...i would be pleased if you could read and let me kno how do you think of my poem... on a lonely string....thanks

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