Memories Of Annagloor

Those with good past memories they never are poor
And with joy I recall the fields of Annagloor
Where the Cails from Kippagh Lake to the Finnow flow
Through old fields and by ditches and by many a hedgerow.

The hawthorns resplendent in their white blooms of the May
And the nesting birds whistle and sing all the day
The fields lush and green in their lovely wildflowers
And the sun through the rain clouds shines between the showers.

Though his not the loveliest voice of the Spring
In the river the white breasted dark brown dipper sing
And the male snipe at night o'er the rushy field fly
As with wings and tail he makes what sounds like a goat like cry.

In my flights of fancy I hear once again
The male robin sing in the wind and the rain
In the cool gray dawn of an Irish Spring day
In Annagloor where the Cails from Kippagh towards Finnow winds it's way.