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?