The memories of boyhood years my source of joy
Slashing thistles in my uncle's fields in Lisnaboy
In changeable weather in early July
So close to the grass the barn swallows did fly
A lesson from Nature that I do retain
When swallows fly close to the ground to expect rain
From the nearby meadows the sweet scent of hay
The joy of such memories with me today
My wonder at Nature's ways beginning to grow
But the more one learns of Nature the more one comes to know
That compared to Nature human achievements seem small
And of her ways we seem to know little at all
The green thistles fell around me with each slash hook blow
But that's going back in time some five decades ago.
No comments:
Post a Comment