The wild and bitter winds of Winter moan <br />Around the bleak and barren hills of Shrone <br />And here am I a wandering man alone <br />With just a little tent to serve me as a home. <br /> <br />A canvas tent beside a naked tree <br />Is the only thing I've got to shelter me <br />A canvas tent that's weather stained and old <br />That keeps out rain but can't keep out the cold. <br /> <br />A sack of straw my bed on which to lie, <br />A sleeping bag to keep me warm and dry, <br />A sleeping bag that's moth eaten and thin <br />That on cold frosty nights lets the cold in. <br /> <br />Last night I had a pleasurable dream <br />I lay beside a peaceful sunlit stream <br />And there beside me on the grass so green <br />Lay the one I love my dark eyed woman Noreen. <br /> <br />The chaffinch piped his wild and merry air <br />As I ran my fingers through her raven hair, <br />I could feel her fingers running down my spine <br />And feel her hot lips pressing against mine. <br /> <br />Tears glistened in her lovely sloe dark eyes <br />As we clung together under sunny skies <br />And then adown her pretty face flowed tears of joy <br />And a robin whistled on a hedge nearby. <br /> <br />But then I awoke to stark reality, <br />I'd been living in a land of fantasy <br />I awoke to the winds lonesome lament <br />And the pattering of hail stones on my tent. <br /> <br />And here am I three miles or maybe four <br />From the Kerry Town that borders Cork Rathmore <br />Listening to the wind lament and moan <br />Around the bleak and barren hills of Shrone. <br /> <br />Come tomorrow my well used of travel feet <br />Will walk the flags of Rathmore and Millstreet <br />And tomorrow night I'll pitch my tent and lay me down <br />Somewhere between Millstreet and Mallow Town.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/wanderer-s-lament-in-shrone/
