Hills of Home

The heather caresses leather

As across these hills I tread

The boggy ground it squelches

Moving like a water bed

Don't stop or soon the eyeholes

With bog water they will fill

Put pace in step and move on

A little further up the hill

The summit from cloud appears

A very welcome sight

With sunlight raising vapour

From the cloud wet anthracite

Soon legs can be relieved from load

And eyes take in the view

Retracing path my feet have trod

Past Bracken, Broom and Yew

Then down the hill with faster gait

My eager legs they ply

To take me home to cottage white

Near the fields of Athenry