Like ladder to the galaxy climbing upwards to the sky <br />The road to Gneeves bogland is narrow, rough and high <br />But from May to September much traffic up and down <br />To and from the flatlands that border Millstreet Town. <br /> <br />From early May and onwards in warm days of the Spring <br />The shlauns and peat cutting machines already in full swing <br />Families from Millstreet Parish in the bogland every day <br />Making fire fuel for the Winter the Winter cold and gray. <br /> <br />In Gneeves lonely bogland one morning in the Spring <br />I heard a little skylark above the bracken sing <br />He sang above the low clouds as upwards he did fly <br />And the music from his tiny heart re-echoed in the sky. <br /> <br />What's not seen as significant and what others see as small <br />To me seems quite important and I can still recall <br />The sweet song of the skylark and the scent of freshly shlauned peat <br />In Gneeves mountain bogland in the Parish of Millstreet. <br /> <br />The Aussie fellow said to me mate you have got it wrong <br />Your memories are of a high bog road and of a skylark's song <br />Forget your boyhood memories mate your past forever dead <br />And think about your future and the days that are ahead. <br /> <br />Don't take from me my memories they are all that I have left <br />Of my very happy boyhood and without them I'd feel bereft <br />And the high bog road to Gneeves I see it every day <br />And I hear the skylark singing o'er the bracken far away.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-high-bog-road-to-gneeves/
