I'll Return

I'll return when wildflowers do bloom by the rill
And the woodcock is back on old Mushera hill
And the robin is singing as the cool gray dawn
Is breaking above the fields of Tooreenbawn.

I've travelled through landscapes of gray, green and brown
Far south of Duhallow and old Millstreet Town
And the remote haunts of the black and gray crow
Where the mighty Blackwater through North Cork does flow.

Far north of the home of the wombat and roo
And of the wooded hills of the white cockatoo
The Araglen through Cullen babbles it's way
To there I'll return in not too distant day.

The boy of the fifties looks aging and gray
And time ticks along as some are known to say
But I will return to the old fields again
When the flowers bloom in Spring in the wind and the rain.