The grass grow rank and the briers have taken over
And somethings gone and lost for evermore.
At cross roads in Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow
You won’t see gipsy horse drawn caravans
The nineteen fifties brought so many changes
To Ireland and the born to wander man.
By Shannaknuck road at Annagloor I remember
Where the by-road with Killarney road meet
The travellers parked their vans in the last week of February
They came for the March horse fair in Millstreet.
But within days their parking spot they had vacated
For the police they always came to move them on
And though I was one who felt sad at them leaving
The farmers were happy to see them gone.
For sometimes at night under the cloak of darkness
To farmer’s field they would unlock the gate
And on seeing his grass trampled and eaten by horses
The farmer naturally would feel irate.
But still I liked them for their sense of freedom
And the Irish travellers they were truly free
They parked by cross-roads in Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra
From Kanturk to Rathmore and Knocknagree.
I liked the beauty of their pinto horses
And for many years I thought it very strange
To see a traveller driving a pick up van
The fifties brought to Ireland such great change.
I grew up in a time of many changes
And back in the fifties change did not come slow
The travellers parted with their gipsy vans and horses
And I still yearn for the Ireland I did know.
And I still yearn for the Ireland of my childhood
But nothing ever seem to stay the same
In ten years saw the passing of a culture
And memories are all that now remain.