Francis Duggan Poems

John Millington Synge, James Stephens, Samuel Ferguson and Yeats
Still remembered today as Irish literary greats
George Bernard Shaw, Mangan, Oscar Wilde and Joyce
To say who was best of them such a hard choice.
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She was a former Rose of Port Fairy where the white waves of Pacific roll
But the years have left their mark upon her the years on us all do take toll
Though for one in her mid to late fifties she certainly does look okay
With anti ageing cream she hides time wrinkles and with brown dye she covers her gray
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Fair dues to him he's a survivor men like him are rare
Lady luck is against him and he hangs in there
In a motor car accident he badly injured his back
The man is a fighter courage he does not lack
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Though with what I have to say many may disagree
I can make the World a better place to live in by becoming a better me
By becoming more tolerant of those different in knowing them better we do find
That despite their human frailties they too are quite good and kind.
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You are the darling of the masses the one they celebrate
And many call you brilliant and many call you great
Your ego fully inflated and the praise gone to your head
That fame can be the ruination of humility truer words have not been said.
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I do not dislike him as a person 'tis what he does stand for I hate
Our ideas of life are so different I do not see him as a mate
He does not smoke pot or cigarettes or drink alcohol and he says he lives by the laws of God
But for one who does claim to be perfect his behaviour at times rather odd
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He did not live to grow old, frail and gray
So sad to know that Denis passed away
In St Mary's Cemetery his last remains now lay
He was a decent man in every way.
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They were not found to be wanting when they were put to the test
The Millstreet Schoolgirls set dancers All Ireland's very best
In Athlone Town at dancing Ireland's best they did beat
One might say of the Millstreet girls they danced them off their feet.
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In the warm evenings in the Fall of the year
The song of the crickets one always does hear
'Tis the time of year when they do copulate
The dark male in song he does woo his dark mate.
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His ninety first birthday in June is quite near
And his memory not good and his thinking not clear
He survived World War 2 and by a decade has outlived his wife
And he could not tell you of an easy life
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