Poem by William O Hagan
How sweet it is to stroll down St Johnston's Main Street
And to smell the air filled with the bright burning peat.
To gaze out on the Foyle with its water so grey
As it is overhead on this cold winter's day.
Yes the Foyle it looked lonely as I stood on the shore,
And I looked across the water at the fields of Tyrone,
But when summer returns with its colours so bright,
To see the Foyle then is an exiles delight.
Then up to the station, in a canter I went,
To look around the place where my boyhood was spent.
And the sight that I saw made me feel sad
To think that the last train had since long bye passed.
Yes once there was laughter and the whistle of steam,
Now the old place just lies like a dream.
But they say that's the price we've got to pay -
If progress is to march on its way.
I called in to see Billy, at the Hole in the Wall -
Oh how times had changed since I was a boy.
Upstairs was aglow with music so grand,
Beautifully rendered by a local dance band.
St Johnston Chapel now stands in full view,
Gone are the shrubs that my boyhood knew
Gone are the trees and the grass that was green
To tell you the truth, it all sounds like a dream.
And the Hibernian Hall it met its doom
It went on fire by the light of the moon.
And now the locals are wearing a frown
As there's no bingo in our little town!!
By William O'Hagan
The Billy referred to was Billy Toland.
The Hibernian Hall was used for bingo.