My earliest memories brings me back to county Clare
where I would visit my granddad in his rural hamlet of Shragh
always felt magical to me as a little lad.

I remember the strolls, we would take
on the small barren country road
following the lassie dog, leading
me on to an adventure.

Surrounded by thorn bushes,the spires of reeds
reaching into the cloudless sky
but never was the reeds in my granddads fields
lush green grass only to be seen.

I remember the river which always was full of fish
never was a doubt, we would catch a trout
egged on by the lassie dog he would hurry me
straight through the door my father goes with the fish.

Late night talks by the turf fire
I can picture the smell,
traditional music and tobacco smoke
how endless it all seemed.

The once magical land to me as a lad
has changed drastically, now that I am a man
no longer does the river give trout
no longer is the field lush of green grass
reeds have taken over.

Only the peace remains, but not the soul
The place seems empty now
lost in some mysterious void.

My thoughts keep it alive inside me
my heart yearns to experience it again.
At least it may not be lost forever
as the memories of it are still locked
inside of me.

I will always remember the rural hamlet
of which my grand dad used to live
housing the characters that once lived.