I dreamt last night the dream of youth
I hoped youth’s hope again;
The dream of innocence and truth,
The hope so high and vain.
I woke to find that Time is still
A forward flowing stream;
That pauses at no obstacle,
And dallies for no dream.
Old Father Time has turned the years
Like pages of a book;
And now a river wide appears
What once appeared a brook.
But though I cannot stop the stream
Which sweeps me out to sea,
I still can dream the golden dream
That brings back youth to me.
MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘THE BARD OF FOREMASS’
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.
Won in Independent 1pound 10 shillings
See also Irish Weekly Independent – January 22 – 1959