I come from the place of the gray hooded crow
Where Clara in winter wears his hat of snow
Where Finnow through old fields bank high often flow
On towards the Blackwater by many a hedgerow
I come from the place of the brown mountain hare
A shy creature of danger ever aware
A creature too quick for a fox for to kill
He hides in the bracken and het on the hill
In fancy i visit places far away
And old fields i lived near for many a day
In visualizations i picture the wildflowers of May
The man leaves the fields but the fields in him stay
I come from the place where the Springs are so green
And where Nature in all of her beauty is seen.
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