Sometimes I Do Think Of Duhallow Poem by Francis Duggan

Sometimes I do think of Duhallow where I lived up to two decades ago
Where the Blackwater the mighty river on it's journey through North Cork flow
On a journey that ends up in Youghal where it flows into the Atlantic sea
Though I now live far from the old home fields they live on in my memory.

Back there in the old fields of Millstreet I day dreamed of fortune and fame
I knew every bird in the backyard and by their song them I could name
The white breasted dipper he sang in the clear stream that flowed by the briery hedgerow
I learned a bit about Nature though little of her ways I know.

Sometimes I do think of Duhallow when I've drunk a couple of beers
Though the nostalgia in me must be fading for I no longer feel moved to tears
When I think about Clara mountain that overlook the Town of Millstreet
Or the old bridge close to Drishane Castle where the Finnow and Blackwater meet.

Sometimes I do think of Duhallow and places from here far away
Though perhaps far from the Blackwater Valley I am destined to live my last day
It has been almost twenty years since I've lived there how quickly the Seasons have gone
And every day nearer my last day and father time is ticking on.