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Monday, February 4, 2008

By The Waters Of Finnow

Underneath the leafy boughs
By the waters of Finnow
On a pleasant eve in May
In a rushy mead in Claraghatlea.

Here I lay me down for rest
In a spot that suit me best
Listening to a skylark's lay
In the gloaming of the day.

Pleasant are the notes he sing
For the love of life and Spring
And for lark mate on her nest
With speckled eggs beneath her breast.

Oh what I'd give to feel like thee
Air borne prince of melody
Singing in the darkening sky
Oh what I'd give for half your joy.

I know of the uphill strife
And all that goes with human life
The envy, the greed and the misery
The curse of human mentality.

Had I bird wings I too would fly
And like the lark sing in the sky
Had I bird mind I too would be
A happy creature and carefree.

Here where Finnow waters flow
And where wind kissed wild flowers blow
From life's cares I find release
And peace of mind delightful peace.

Skylark flies down to the ground
And darkness gather all around
And silence comes with cloak of night
And all is peaceful, all is quiet.

All is quiet save for the sound
Made by my female black greyhound
She utters a low pitched whine
As if to say it's go home time.

I yield to her canine plea
Of master please come home with me
And homeward I walk with my dog
Through Claraghatlea's rushy bog.

I'll not forget this eve in May
The memory with me will stay
Of the hour I spent neath leafy boughs
By the waters of Finnow.
Francis Duggan
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1/15/2021 10:06:47 AM # 1.0.0.396