Glenmachen Hill

In parts forgot; I love you still,
on the rocky shore by this irish sea,
down the path from Glenmachen Hill,
were we used to kiss under the oak tree.

Those leaves are long gone my bonnie wee lass,
the seasons turn faster than the tides it seems,
from green to gold, even red shall pass,
a quiet ruddy lad amidst his dreams.

But I'll shake em off and walk on home!
A cup o hot chocolate, a dog and fireplace,
and while through the window snow covers the loam,
the warmth and light reach into my face.

No don't worry about me, my bright eyed lass;
For even the death of Love, one day, will pass.