Many-hued pubs bid me welcome
As would friends on the street
And so does Cromwell Bridge
Where long ago we first met.

I see the fields where we played
And plucked up the kerry violets.
I gaze out over the dark bay
Reflecting our lives as glass.

Memories live but a season
And like a photograph
And erelong, I will be as one
Fading - crumbling fast.

When you are old and banjaxed
Will you still remember
And find there my countenance
Among the leas of Kenmare?