Fair Day In Knocknagree Poem by Francis Duggan

The cattle for the fair were housed an early start next day
And their trough was filled with water and their bin was filled with hay
And the farmer and his two teenage sons were in their beds by nine
Tomorrow early they would walk for miles in weather wet or fine.

At two fifteen a.m. the alarm clock rang a long hard day ahead
And the farmer upped and dressed himself and roused his sons from bed
And his wife was in the kitchen preparing an early tea
And by three a.m. they were ready for the walk to Knocknagree

A half moon offered some faint light the sky was not so dark
And old Shep the black collie in the farm yard with excitement did bark
Old Shep was seven going on eight but for his years quite hale
He had walked to Knocknagree before he pranced and wagged his tail.

The forty year old farmer Jim and his sons John and Mike
Each had a flash lamp the old sort designed for the push bike
The April winds blew timidly, the morning cold and dry
And countless stars were twinkling in the clear and frosty sky.

The farmer unlocked the shed door and drove the nine bullocks out
And John you stand here and Mike stand there the commands he did shout
And Shep be quiet don't spook them dog and right where you are stay
And the cattle trotted to the road and they were on their way

The first four miles the cattle fresh went at a steady jog
Till they slowed to an easy walk just beyond Inches bog
And beyond the Kerry border they veered right near Rathmore
And on by Gneeveguilla it was after half past four.

A robin started carolling on a dimly lit birch tree
As they reached the foot of the high road that leads to Knocknagree
And for tiring men and tiring beasts the uphill slog was hard
They had travelled fourteen miles or more since they left the farm yard.

The sound and smell of cattle and of sheep was in the morning air
And people had come from miles around for to barter at the fair
The Cork and Kerry jobbers there from north, south, east and west
And the farmer found a spot in the fair field where his tired beasts could rest.

The jobbers came to him he said his price and they left him one by one
And an hour and then two hours dragged on and still no deal was done
Till with a jobber from Macroom he finally clinched a deal
And he and his sons went to the pub for drinks and for a meal.

The long hard walk to Knocknagree harder than a hard day's work
And they got a drive home in a van from a farmer from Kanturk
He had sold his calves and room in the back for three men and a dog
And he drove down hill and left near Rathmore and on by Inches bog.

This is a tale from years ago from fair day in Knocknagree
And what was then is only now a faded memory
And old ways gone the way of time and nothing stay the same
And hazy memories from the past are all that now remain.