Back There In Ballydaly Poem by Francis Duggan

Back There In Ballydaly



Back there in Ballydaly far north and far away
The blackbird is not singing at the dawning of the day
And the skylark is not carolling above old Bealac hill
And in the cool days of September few flowers bloom by the rill.

From Kippagh lake in the high valley by the mountain the stream through the bracken flow
And on down through Ballydaly into a river grow
On it's journey to the Finnow and the Blackwater and the sea
Through the old fields of Duhallow it flows on eternally.

Back there from Ballydaly around this time of the year
The swallows are departing for the Southern Hemisphere
In the cold Winter of Duhallow of the hunger they would die
And to sunny Northern Africa Nature prompts them for to fly.

Towards the fields of Ballydaly over many a rural town
The redwing thrushes from the further north towards their wintering woods wing their way down
And at the migrant birds arrival the Nature lovers know
That soon the morning fields will be grey with frost and hills wear hats of snow.

In the fields of Ballydaly I spent my long lost prime
And of the beauty that surrounded me I was inspired to rhyme
Where the stream from Kippagh mountain lake down through the bracken flow
And down through that beautiful old Country where I lived in long ago.

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