My Favourite Place
I see the luxuries of Leatbegs,
I see the salty sea of Mulroy Bay,
I see the Harry Blaney Bridge standing tall,
I see my Granny’s black Labrador Rocky,
Sitting in front of the range.
I hear the blaring TV in the background,
I hear the clicks of the knitting needles in the corner.
I smell my Granny’s scones
As she takes them out of the oven.
I smell the tea stewing on the range,
I smell the peats in the fire.
I feel the warmness of the warm tea
Going down my throat.
I feel the warmness of the range
As we sweat so much.
I taste the soft, sweet scones and the melted butter
Washed down with a nice cup of tea.
Now you know my favourite place.
Happiness is the fun and laughter of no school an snow days.
Happiness is fixing my hideout peacefully in my space.
Happiness is having friends over.
Happiness is powerful New Hollands making me happy.
Happiness is helping on the farm at busy times, never a dull moment.
Happiness is seeing mum’s face as I help around the house.
Happiness is doing nice things with others, exciting and interesting.
Happiness is spending time with my brother and sister even though sometimes a row.
Happiness is sleighing on a snowy evening.
Happiness is out swimming on the beach on a hot sunny day.
Happiness is outside with Charlie doing P.E…
Happiness is digger driving in a bog.
Happiness is lorries swooshing up and down the road.
Happiness is opening presents on Christmas day.
Happiness is sweets in the sweet shop.
Scoring a goal at football,
Painting a lovely picture of art,
Helping out in the farm yard,
Eating ice-cream in a nice summer’s day,
Stuffing chocolate in my mouth,
Drinking hot chocolate in the living room,
Cuddling up to teddies,
Watching little bunny rabbits play,
Taking Glen for a walk.
My Favourite Place
I hear the bleating sheep and the
Chirping birds that sing as the day is long.
I hear the neighing horses galloping around the
Field like Usain Blot running the 100metre sprint.
I feel the gentle breeze blowing
Against my skin.
I see my Uncle John
Working hard in the Magnificent
With the help the rusty old tractor.
I smell the fresh air clearing my lungs
As I saddle up on Sami, the beautiful
I feel her long rough mane.
I feel the rough hair of our sheep dog,
Shep barking madly at the
Engine of our good old tractor.
I hear the mighty
Rooster crowing and
Quacking ducks waddling
Around the yard all day, everyday.
On the Farm
I see the many sheds and the Ford t7 20 leading in bales.
I hear the donkey neighing and the quad raving.
I smell cow dung, silage and diesel.
I taste my mouth watering steak from my own beef cattle.
I feel the light steering wheel of my Renault tractor and the metal shaft of my new grape.
The see daring donkeys and the lazy lambs and the beastly bull.
On the Farm
I see the smoke coming out of the New Holland.
I hear the roars of the tractor.
I smell the diesel burning.
I hear the cows mooing, sheep bleating and pigs snorting.
I smell the best of all smells, silage!
I taste the dust coming out of the silo.
I taste the bacon and eggs for breakfast.
I smell the rich smell from the bacon.
I wonder how it’s raining “oh that’s right, we’re in Ireland”.
I would probably wonder more if it stopped raining!
On The Farm
I feed the grunting pigs and
check up on the new born piglets.
I grape in the silage to the curious cows and
Pet the wee calves that are all snug in the straw.
I check on the sheep to see if there are any lambs and
One of the ewes has just had the first lamb of 2015.
I let the hens and the ducks out and
They make a B-line to the feeder for their breakfast.
I let out the dog and he jumps into the ford.
We head up the field with a bale
to feed the braying donkeys and the neighing horses.
When I get home all the feeding is done
So I hitch on the horsebox, grab the cheque book and head to Milford mart.