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December In Duhallow

A long way from here this far southern shore
To the high fields by Clara of green Claramore
Storm Desmond has passed but signs of it remain
In the waterlogged fields from the downpour of recent heavy rain

The soughing of the wind in the bare trees in fancy i do hear
December in Duhallow is a windy, wet and a cold time of year
The flat rushy fields flooded where the waterways meet
In wet and cold weather in the storm driven sleet

By the Boggeragh Ranges a cold and wet day
The cattle in the farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
Hungry birds by the back-doors waiting to be fed
For housewives to throw out scraps of food and bread

At least fifteen weeks from the early Spring
When the wild-born birds will mate nest and sing
When the cattle on young grass will gain weight by the day
Far more nutritious to them than eating silage and hay

Memories of Irish Winters with me do remain
Of storm-water gurgling in every roadside drain
When the flooded streams and rivers often overflow
And the mountains at times are covered in snow

The Winters in Ireland to me never fun
One reason i went south for to follow the sun
To where the magpies are warbling on the sunlit trees
And the warm air full of the buzzing of flies and of nectar gathering bees

In Duhallow today it is windy, wet and cold
Whilst all around me beautiful women in their swimwear to behold
As i lay on the beach in the sunshine improving my tan
I say to myself i am a lucky man.

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