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In Old Claraghatlea When I Was A Young Boy

In old Claraghatlea when I was a young boy
Walks in the old fields I used to enjoy
And Summer evenings out hunting in Pomeroy's bog
With Pudsy our dark brown hairy cattle dog
The boy of the fifties is now looking gray
One might say he has known a far better day
But memories of the past in the memory remain
And in memory the past we re-visit again
Old Pudsy long gone she is in time's decay
In Mother earth's bosom forever she lay
And time ticks away and nothing seems to last
And in memory we only can go to the past
And in old Claraghatlea far north and far away
A boy with his dog is out hunting today.

poem by Francis Duggan
Added by Poetry Lover
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