In Fields Near Ballydaly

Through fields near Ballydaly the river flows bank high
And rain come down in drizzle and rain clouds in the sky
And blackbird scratch leaf litter beside the bare hedgerow
And wind blow from the northland and cold enough to snow.

The coldness of November is in the mountain air
And gray fog shroud the hillside the hillside brown and bare
And salmon swimming upstream scale rocks and waterfall
Up towards their gravelly spawning beds to answer Nature's call

In fields near Ballydaly the hungry black rooks caw
And on the leafless sycamore the grey headed jackdaw
Shake the water from their feathers and chatter noisily
And food becoming scarcer for the wildborn and free.

In fields near Ballydaly lit by the pale moonlight
The hungry fox is barking on cold November night
Across the silent countryside his wild shrill yaps resound
And his voice that carry distance is heard for miles around.

Near quiet Ballydaly the fields at morning gray
And the redwings have returned from cold lands far away
And the hare in from the mountain in cloak of russet brown
To warm the coldness in his bones is running up and down.

In fields near Ballydaly no wild flowers to be found
And the chattering of magpie the only living sound
And skylark is not singing above the silent bog
And the peaks of Caherbarnagh are shrouded in gray fog.

Through fields near Ballydaly the river bank high flow
And wind blow from the northlands and cold enough to snow
And four long months or maybe more before first breath of Spring
Before the silent bullfinch will feel the urge to sing.