Only In Fancy
Only in fancy i see Caherbarnagh
And climb up through the bracken to Gortavehy lake
And only in fancy i hear the robin singing
On the windswept hedgerow in the grey of daybreak.
And only in fancy i can see the jackdaws
Flying to chimney pipe with sticks to build their nest
And in the river hear the dipper singing
The dark brown water bird with the snow white breast.
Only in fancy i can hear the dark rooks
Cawing on the tall trees as the sun goes down
And behind the fog the old hill it is hiding
As shades of darkness creep above the town.
It has been awhile now since i heard the old stream
Babbling in the fields and along by the hedgerow
Through familiar places it winds on it's way
As down to the river it ever does flow.
And only in fancy i hear the grey crow
Cawing on a tall tree in a field far away
But in that far place where my face was familiar
I well might be seen as a stranger today.
Francis Duggan's Other Poems
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