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Far South Of Where Glasheen

Far south of where Glasheen to Finnow does flow
Where the rushes in clusters in the old fields do grow
Perhaps i will live my last night and day
From the fields of my youth i may die far away
Where i was born and raised nowadays few would know me
With most every migrant this is how it seems to be
And though the past as is said in the forever gone
The memories of the what used to be in us does live on
On this sunny day in September in the early southern Spring
The wild birds of Nature does whistle and sing
And from Nature i learn something new every day
In life one never stops learning in truth one can say
Far south of where Glasheen to Finnow does flow
In the flat fields where the rushes in clusters do grow.

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