(Another gem I learned at a pub in Carolw town, from traditional Irish storyteller Jim Nolan, a master shanachie in his day! He’s telling stories to the angels now…)
I remember the first time I DID IT…
I was only a lad of fifteen.
I remember she was much younger.
She was far more composed and serene.
It happened outside in the barn
at the close of a warm summer’s day,
so the air was all scented with clover
and the fragrance of new-mown hay.
I remember she moved much closer
and the touch of her body was warm.
I just stood there and wondered:
“Would it be any harm?”
Many years have now passed since that day.
I will never forget it, I vow:
the thrill and the joy that I knew as a boy
on the day that I first…
milked a cow.
* * *