• Michael Mullins
  • Michael "The Bard" Mullin
  • "The Bard of Foremass"
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    Both of us dream

    I sing as I follow my plough,
    Up hill and down I sing,
    And perched on a beechen bough
    Where last year’s dead leaves cling,
    A robin is singing now
    To me as I follow my plough –
    And both of us dream of Spring.

    I dream as I follow my plough –
    Follow my plough and team;
    I see some daisies now,
    Some gold on gorse agleam,
    Soft winds blow on my brow;
    Of Spring, and I follow my plough –
    That Spring is here, I dream.

    I hope as I follow my plough –
    But a doubt in my heart is stirred –
    For buds on the beechen bough
    To ope have not yet dared;
    “Tis Spring,” says the wee bird now;
    While a cloud creeps o’er my brow –
    “Tis Spring,” says the happy bird.

    While I follow my plough and team,
    Don’t bid my dreams begone –
    Foolish although they seem;
    They help me t’wards the dawn.
    Oft’ times a foolish dream
    Becomes  a sunny beam
    To poor men ploughing on.

    MICHAEL MULLIN ‘The Bard of Foremass’
    Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.