Francis Duggan Poems

In Millstreet in green old Duhallow where into manhood I did grow
Life surely goes on as usual and the Seasons to there come and go
And through lush fields and old rushy meadows and by many a leafy hedgerow
The old Finnow from the high country down to the great Blackwater flow.
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I saw her the dark haired beauty with the Latin eyes of brown
Out walking in the wind and rain on the sidewalks of Belgrave Town
The sky was dark and overcast the deciduous trees were bare
And the chilly nip of Winter in the June morning air.
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The poems of Banjo Paterson will live forever more
They have become quite famous beyond Australia's shore
The author of The Man from Snowy River and Clancy of the Overflow
He passed on in his seventies more than sixty ago.
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Broken down by the freeway traffic buzzing to and fro
Between the big towns at the peak hour slow
For the RACV I feel obliged to wait
My old car has not been running smoothly of late.
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Way up in the cold of the Yukon of freezing point fifty below
Where Robert Service penned his great poems going back many decades ago
The timber wolves howl in the darkness their loud wailings pierce the calm of night
One can visualize the snow clad landscape that looks ghostly in the moonlight.
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Charlie Brown the labrador puppy is as strong as an ox one might say
Whilst out walking when he see other dogs he pulls towards them wanting to play
A handful for Shane and for Lisa most puppies it would seem are that way
But with lots of good training and patience he will make a good dog one day.
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A Town on the cusp at the present that is what the wise woman did say
With new industry it well may prosper for years it has been in decay
The Local youth keep on migrating to big Cities from here far away
They have their dreams and ambitions to follow and here for them little to stay,
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Around my boots where I am sitting crumbs of bread they happily eat
The cheeky and colourful City pigeons so at home on the city street
Their cousins the rock pigeons of the Northlands in Town would feel so out of place
They once were the very same species though now quite a different race.
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For so many people life's so very hard
Homelessness, want and oppression has left them mentally scarred
So much so that many of them become mentally ill
They spend their time climbing on steep no hope hill
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Why tell me about it when I already know
That money on bushes and trees does not grow
But having said that does it seem fair to say
That some come by their millions in the dishonest way
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