My Town.

From The Rhymes of a Rustic Boy

Rathdowney Is My Native Town We’ve Seldom Been Apart,
I Love Her Like A Mother From The Bottom Of My Heart,
But These Days As I Look Around She Seems To Shed A Tear,
As Each Year Little Parts Of Her Appear To Disappear,
Perhaps I’m Only Dreamin’, Perhaps You’d Say I’m Wrong,
To Lament That Many Little Shops Are Shuttered Up And Gone,
The List Goes On Forever, It Would Take Old Father Time,
To Write A Separate Poem For Each,To Write For Each A Rhyme,
I Know The World Keeps Turning,And Life Moves Right Along,
We All Are Taught To Look Ahead And Travel With The Throng.
You And I Must Earn A Crust And Do Our Daily Grind,
We Often Don’t Have Time To Stop And Have A Look Behind,
But Maybe Some Day As You Pass, Along Your Native Street,
Just Listen To Rathdowney’s Heart And Ask Does It Still Beat.

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