In May In Lisnaboy
Poem By Francis Duggan
In clump of grass by thick hedge on her eggs the pheasant lay
And the much more brightly coloured male cucks near all through the day
And the meadow pipit pipes his song as o'er the field he fly
And scent of blossom in the wind in May in Lisnaboy.
In Den Jack's field in rushy patch the day old leveret rest
His siblings not too far away each in a separate nest
Their mother comes to suckle them just after darkness fall
She know exactly where they are when they answer her call
And through the night o'er rushy field the male snipe flies around
He makes a goat sound with his wings above his breeding ground
And lark to greet the sun at dawn pipes in the brightening sky
And birds are singing in the groves in May in Lisnaboy.
The hawthorn trees look beautiful in their blossoms white as snow
And o'er the fields from dawn till dark swallows fly to and fro
And the Cuckoo sing cuckoo cuckoo as she fly from tree to tree
And the warblers and the pipits for her raise her family.
Male robin in the leafy grove is piping vigorously
He tell male robins in his song this is my territory
His mate sits in her cup shaped nest hid from predator's eye
With five speckled eggs beneath her breast in May in Lisnaboy.
The sun burns it's way through the clouds after light morning shower
And wild honey bees on nectar round are flying from flower to flower
And Spring has reached her pinnacle and Summer days are nigh
And the years first butterflies are seen in May in Lisnaboy.