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Old Memories

Old memories they linger or so 'twould appear
And the sounds of the past I still fancy I hear
In the moonlit meadow of pleasant July
The corncrake the migrant rail often did cry.

Down wind of them and quite well hidden away
I often watched the fox and her cubs in May
In the high grass by the hedgerow frolicking about
As into their burrow they ran and then out.

These are Nature's memories that I now recall
The cheepings of the nestling tits in the stonewall
The curlew in the bogland above his breeding ground
He piped pleasant music as he flew around.

'Twas heaven on Earth then or so it did seem
The song of the dipper echoed in the stream
The robin he sang on the leafy birch tree
The sunshine on his orange breast I still fancy I see.

The swallows o'er the old fields are flying all the day
And in the new mown meadow the sweet scent of the hay
The skylark o'er the bracken is carolling as he fly
Till he becomes a small speck in the late evening sky.

Old memories they linger and with us remain
And the fields of my boyhood I walk them again
And the blackbird is whistling in the wind and the rain
And I hear the frog croaking in the flooded drain.

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