The Fields Of Aghabulloge

O'er the fields of Aghabulloge the larks pipe in the sky
And in and out of hedgerows the nesting songbirds fly
And nostalgia always visits him at this time of the year
He closes his eyes and he visualize and the chaffinch's song he hear.

To the fields of Aghabulloge the seasons come and go
And he recall the winter days when Mushera wore his hat of snow
And the old fields by his old home with frost were looking gray
But that was many years ago and many miles away.

To the fields of Aghabulloge the Spring brought with her her green
And wildflowers in their billions bloomed by the old bohreen
And there he found his first love and though they did drift apart
One always do remember an affair of the heart.

In warm summer evenings in Aghabulloge on holidays from school
He and his young friends splashed and bathed in the sunlit river pool
And the swallows o'er the old fields flew to and fro all day
And in the new mown meadows the pleasant smell of hay.

To the trees of Aghabulloge the Autumn brought her gold
And the redwings from the northlands returned with the cold
And the swallows and the cuckoos had departed for their sunny Wintering ground
But by the dawn of April they would be homeward bound.

From the fields of Aghabulloge he could see the snow capped hill
And in the early days of Spring snowdrops bloomed by the rill
But that was many years ago and many miles away
And the years have left their mark on him and his once brown hair now gray.