Francis Duggan Father Poems

His father a decorated soldier a noble hearted one
And he the ballad singer sings of battles fought and won
A true chip of the the old block when all is said and done
He has his father's D N A and he is his father's son.
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He proudly walks out hand in hand with his new girl friend
And from gym workouts he looks well muscled broad shouldered
and trim
He wears sleeveless shirts to display his tattoos well bronzed from sun and wind
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For the sins of the father do not blame the son
You can only blame him for any wrong he has done
To another person for that he should feel shame
For the sins of his father him one cannot blame
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He wrote about his dad Owen Murphy senior
He died way back in nineteen thirty four
When Eoin himself was only a young fellow
And may he rest in peace forever more.
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A popular man among his parishioners is the priest Father Ed
But rumor does have it that he is good in bed
No smoke without fire it does seem this way
But rumor is rumor one also can say
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If you visit Tower Hill in Spring you may see
Father emu and his young family
By his side slowly walking along
In the emu family love's bond it is strong
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You have heard of the old saying like father like son
And this does apply to almost everyone
The father saw action in Europe in the early forties in World war two
And in the sixties in the Vietnam war the son saw action too
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The boy mimics the father he is his father's son
And he tells all of his young mates of the good things his dad has done
The mentors of tomorrow are the fathers of today
Through your good or bad example your child follows the way.
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When i was a Schoolboy Father Joe Murphy was a young man
I recall him and his Brothers Doney and the late Johnny Dan
And though of my existence he hardly would know
One cannot help but remember the great Father Joe.
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Your badly flawed dad may be serving prison time
Among all like him who have resorted to crime
But his sins in life should never be your shame
For his wrongdoings he has himself for to blame
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It has been a while since he lived his final day
And with Mum at peace he does forever lay
Uncynical and one of integrity
My father was a better man than me.
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He died in the evening four days ago of a massive heart attack
Many of the parish poor today shed tears at the burial of Father Jack
They loved him for the man he was compassionate and kind
A better friend than Father Jack they never more will find
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The day of his ordination his widowed mum's happiest day
To Sainthood she said my son is on his way
She raised him on her own when his dad of a heart attack died
Of her only offspring she took so much pride
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For the crimes of the father the son is made to pay
That is how it is it's always been this way
Many judged on the records of their parents or their postal address
The judgemental people are hard to impress,
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The hero of Sydney's Aboriginal people is now with the dead
The Parish Priest of Redfern the great Father Ted
Right till his own end he was on the side
Of the poor fringe dwellers and the marginalized.
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He has said his goodbyes to the old Coastal Town his future is elsewhere
And he has gone to try his luck in the bigger World out there
The wanderlust is in him and he has gone on a long train ride
And his best days are ahead of him and youth is on his side.
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He is young and bright and handsome the type that women pursue
But he only love one woman brown haired Tess with eyes of blue
But the lovely Tess just needs him as a friend and nothing more
She loves one twice her own age gray haired Joe who lives next door.
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