The Song Of The Redpoll

His song loud for a small bird yet melodious and clear
The greyish brown bird with the red poll i fancy i hear
Singing in the leafy wood in the prime of the May
The past i re-visit almost every day.

It followed me here from places far away
And deep in my subconscious it seems to stay
The song of the redpoll i remember yet
Some things from the past one does never forget.

When wildflowers are blooming by the mountain rill
He sings in the wood at the foot of the hill
To one with sensitive hearing he may sound a bit shrill
The greyish brown bird with the short pointy bill.

Some things from the past with us always remain
And the past we re-visit again and again
The bluebells in bloom on the ditch of the bohreen
And everywhere is looking so lush and so green.

In my fancy he's singing on a sunlit tree
That bird in my past that i often did see
His voice from the mountain wood has followed me
To this sunlit Land by the Pacific sea.