June In Caherbarnagh

Above Caherbarnagh a lark sings today
A musical speck in the sunny sky of blue and gray
A little brown songster of human kind shy
Born on the mountain that to sing has to fly
Up to the cloud World to proclaim territory
Him I do hear sing in my memory
His mate hid in bracken on her ground nest
Tiny blotched umber eggs incubate by the heat of her breast
The voice of the migratory cuckoo one does hear
In June in Caherbarnagh a lovely time of year
Chasing flying insects for their young in nest on shed rafters not far away
The dark swallows fly above the brown bog-land all the day
When the weather grows cooler in the latter Fall
They will follow their instincts and yield to Nature's call
And leave Caherbarnagh where they first saw light of day
For the warmer climates from there far away.

by Francis Duggan

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