Would I Be A Stranger Now In Knocknagree - Poem by Francis Duggan
Would I be a stranger now in Knocknagree
Would one in the Village now even know me?
I was there as a boy on Fair day long ago
When the weather was cold and the cold winds did blow
Down from the Shrone Paps and up the Village hill
I fancy in my bones I still feel the chill
Of that Wintery morning in the early Spring
Too cold even for redbreast robin to sing.
The smell of the cattle in the Village square
And from miles around buyers and sellers were there
And money was exchanged when cattle were sold
Back when a twenty pound note was worth a nugget of gold.
When our cattle were sold my Dad took me to Murphy's bar
Where one ageing fat cattle buyer puffed on his cigar
his loud voice of his presence left us in little doubt
And in less than an hour he drunk five pints of stout.
A farmer from Sliabh Luachra was singing a song
He seemed a bit drunk and his words came out wrong
Still he had a good reason for to rejoice
He had sold his five bullocks and at a good price.
Thade Hartnett the Cork County Councillor was there
A tall and friendly fellow he seemed free of care
He bought me a lemonade saying young lad this one on me
The man loved by everyone in Knocknagree.
The afternoon rained but we were in luck
As we were bone dry in Con the Lake's truck
And as we drove out of Rathmore on towards Millstreet Town
The dark clouds were weeping and rain bucketed down.
Fair day in knocknagree is a thing of the past
But then I suppose nothing ever does last
The brown haired boy then is now ageing and gray
And he would be a stranger in the Village today.
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