I cut down trees in the wood by Mushera mountain <br />Where in the snow the sheep of hunger died <br />In Winter 'twas a bleak and barren country <br />But Spring brought beauty to that mountain side. <br /> <br />I saw the whitened skeletons of creatures <br />With bits of wool around that told of sheep <br />The farmers only kept them for the bounty <br />The market prices for them far too cheap. <br /> <br />In early Spring i seldom see the mountain <br />Behind the fog it quietly hid away <br />'There must be an easier way to earn a living' <br />That to myself i often used to say. <br /> <br />But latter Spring brought beauty back to Mushera <br />And skylark o'er the hill piped all the day <br />And the wild birds were singing and nest building <br />And hawtorns wore white blossoms of the May. <br /> <br />On leafy nest on moss hidden by bracken <br />In higher wood the woodcock quietly lay <br />To the high woodlands in the Spring she journey <br />From wintering places many miles away. <br /> <br />The Winter months were hard by Mushera mountain <br />And December to March brought frost rain and snow <br />But woodcock journeyed back to the high woodlands <br />In Spring when warmer winds began to blow. <br /> <br />I worked in high wood at the back of Mushera <br />By fog the mountain often hid away <br />'And there must be easier way to earn a living' <br />To myself i so often used to say.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wood-by-mushera-mountain/
