The Old Fields Of Annagloor Poem by Francis Duggan

I have never been financially well off but then i have never been poor
And i have such wonderful memories of the old fields of Annagloor
In the hedgerows in Spring and in Summer the tiny brown wren was in song
For a wee one he had such a big voice and his song one could never get wrong
Through rushy fields and old green meadows the Cails river babbled it's way
Through Annagloor it is still flowing on down to the Finnow today
Through Annagloor 'twill flow forever though people they come and they go
The old river from Kippagh mountain on down to the Finnow will flow,
The Winter months cold, wet and windy the frosted fields of morning gray
And the hungry cattle in the farmshed were bellowing for silage and hay
But April saw the return of the swallows and the nesting birds did chirp and sing
And the year's first wildflowers were in full bloom and the cuckoo's voice heralded the Spring
And the cattle were out on the old fields and Annagloor looked lush and green
And i do recall the good memories of the natural beauty I've seen.