‘Back In Wicklow A Long Time Ago’
© Joe Canning 2016. All Rights Reserved.

In my mind’s eye I treasure a picture,
Of that place I ran free as a child,
I’m recalling that heaven sent valley,
Where I played in the springtime of life; where
I climbed the tall trees with my young friends,
Where we sleighed down the hills in cold snow,
When we gathered the chestnut and snowdrop,
Back in Wicklow a long time ago.

From the hilltops I see the old churchyard,
Where the bones of my kinfolk lie cold; and
That spire that reaches for heaven,
And the church where the good book was told.

The dens that we built from the bracken,
Chased rainbows to find pots of gold,
And the ghost tales the seanachai told us,
Back in Wicklow a long time ago.

And then we all grew and had nothing to do,
To the valleys we said our goodbyes,
Went out in the world and we promised to send,
Enough just to help them get by.

I never went back, seems I never had time,
And my conscience it tears at me so,
So I cling to the memories and treasures I had,
Back in Wicklow a long time ago.

Photo: Glendalough Valley, Co Wicklow, Photography by Joe King

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