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