The Birds Sing In The Wood By Clara Mountain

The birds sing in the wood by Clara Mountain
And build their nests in early days of Spring
And it won't be long now till their eggs will hatch out
And their first young of the Season take to wing.

And louder, louder sing the bold cock robin
He warn male robins living all around
My wife has eggs and I'm here to protect her
And for your own safety stay on your own ground.

The lambs bleat in bare fields by Clara Mountain
And hedgerows looking very brown and bare
But it won't be long now till the land looks greener
For breath of Spring is in the mountain air.

Were I a poet I'd write a poem for Clara
In late March when he lose his hat of snow
And wild born birds are singing and nest building
And years first wild flowers bloom by the hedgerow.

The life cycle forever keeps repeating
And March to April fade and then to May
And in latter Spring the country at it's greenest
And birds chirp in green hedgerows all the day.

And o'er the bracken slopes of Clara Mountain
The skylark just a small speck in the sky
And singing ever singing whilst ascending
Till he has vanished from the naked eye.

The birds sing in the wood by Clara Mountain
And lambs bleat in the high fields looking bare
But soon the country will be lush and greener
For breath of spring is in the mountain air.

by Francis Duggan

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