Francis Duggan Poems

The noisy miners pipe on bush and tree
In a Brighton park near Melbourne by the sea
On a pleasant day and Summer in her prime
And a scene that would inspire a poet to rhyme.
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I have always loved you truly Mother Nature
But about you I have much to learn and know
I see your changing beauty in the Seasons
And I feel your anger when your wild gales blow.
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On a cold and wild December morn
In a field down under old Blackthorn
In a rushy patch the brown hare slept
As through the field a dog fox crept.
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The best known of the cockatoo family
They lay their eggs high up in hole in tree
And they live in flocks up to a thousand sometimes two
The galah alias the Rosehill cockatoo.
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I hear him early in the morning sometimes even before daybreak
Before dawn's light shines in the window he tells his neighbours I'm awake
On the banksias and the wattles seems more like a call than a song
Sounds like that he has laryngitis or with his vocal chords something wrong.
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Mick Cooley was a wise and clever fellow
He never put another person down
He was a son of Jim Cooley the blacksmith
Who had a blacksmith forge in Millstreet Town.
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Fred Hollows was a good and caring person and the world needs more of his kind
He helped many poor who had cataracts without him they would have gone blind
The true worth of any great person not fully realized till they have gone
Still in the Fred Hollows foundation the work of the great man lives on.
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You came up through the earth so deep and dark
To listen to the sweet song of the lark
And like the lark's song buttercup you bring
The beauty we have grown to love in Spring.
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Those merry minstrels of the sky
The skylarks pipe their songs of joy
And every wildborn songbird sing
For love of life and joy of Spring.
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He was born just a short distance from Adelaide
And he could see the sea from his back door
And in his young days there were not many houses
But the years have brought great change to Semaphore.
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