by Pat Duggan
He left me the understanding
Of river and countryside
The change of seasons and nature
By what laws we should abide
When the river Suir by cot we plied
To Fiddown and return by tide
I watched as they dredged the Suir's wide bed
For gravel and for sand,
By oar and pole,return back home
To Carrick's mooring strand.
On crossbar of his bike I travelled
The countryside near and far
Be it for piking hay or threshings,
Or past "three miles"for a jar.
Sometimes we travelled to the mountain foot
Where we stacked the Peat for drying.
Other times to funerals went
After friends or relatives dying.
The bike was standard travel.
Cars not many seen,
I remember one day we biked it
All the way to Ballyporeen.
This was such a Legacy
And I not thinking it meant much
But I know now it meant a lot,
As I remember a Father's touch.