Francis Duggan Poems

Far too many with too little it has always been that way
And far too many have to struggle just to live from day to day
And far too many children never reach the adult stage
And people still dying of hunger in this enlightened age.
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Long dead but not forgotten though not for any good in life he done
And those who look for heroes his type will always shun
He had two of his wives beheaded the cruel and callous one
Catherine Howard for infidelity and Anne Boleyn did not bear him a son.
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When Pam talks of her ridgeback Ruby there's a sad look on her face
For Ruby was a special dog and none could take her place
She offered her protection and she was a trusting friend
But nothing lasts forever there has to be an end.
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I find their guns offensive from their holsters sticking out
And I don't feel any safer when I see them about
Supposed to be the peoples 'Watchdogs' but one must ask where are they
When people are robbed and murdered and that's happening every day? .
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Old Linda is a tough old bird her moods are often black
And she never leaves the chance go by for to bad mouth her husband Jack
To anyone prepared to listen to her she will run him down
As if she were the 'hardest done by' ever in the town.
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For himself such bad karma he has sown
The hooded coward who broke into her home
And left her with blackened eye and cut on throat
And stole from her a fifty dollar note.
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With darkened face and in his cloak of silvery gray
I saw the black faced cuckoo shrike today
Perched on dead branch at top of dead gum tree
He uttered forth his cheerful melody.
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The fields around Kilcolman Castle evergreen
And here poet Spenser wrote his Faerie Queen
A masterpiece from the sixteenth century
And as a writer few as great as he.
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Why Indigenous people love this Country not even hard to understand
For one like me from far away a green northern Land
In this Land of open spaces scarcely a day goes by
That you won't feel the sun's warmth in the sunny southern sky.
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You won't find any life around where his remains will lay
And words of praise won't bring him back his soul has gone away
And though he died young at fifty one suppose he had his day
And for flying in fast planes you might say there is a price to pay.
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