Francis Duggan Poems

Poor snowball the white silky bantam cock not feeling well of late
His son big red has thrashed him he is in a sorry state
Dried blood on his neck feathers from the comb he has bled
He has really copped a hiding from his oldest offspring red.
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On those green banks in Summer wildflowers in their hosts bloom
Where the Sullane gently babbles through the old fields of Macroom
And pink breasted chaffinch singing on the leafy ash tree
Though his memories of the old home place not as fresh as they used to be.
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Doggerels by the million are written by poetasters every day
And poetasters are many and poets are few they say
And artists may be many and good artists are few
And though you may be great at something there is one greater than you.
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'In the Land of the Blind the one eyed man is King' an old saying that I first heard as a boy
In his small World he was the one to rule because he was blessed with sight in one eye
Those words of someone wise to them have a ring of truth and perhaps to many nowadays do apply
It goes to show how wise a man he was and it only proves that there's none so blind as I.
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What have we learned from history little if anything
Of war men and war heroes their praises we still sing
Humankind have come far in technology and on the moon surface have trod
And still we fight for our Nation's flag and go to war for our God.
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A rose by any name a rose and you I'm not trying to impress
And you have always been a rose you beautiful poetess
And this rose like flower I give to you to much may not amount
Though some do say and I'm one of those that it is the thought that count.
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Will I be here in four months from now to sing for Auld Lang Syne
For to farewell the old and welcome the new and drink some beer and wine
Since in life there is no certainty and none to guarantee
Us of how long we live and when we die whenever that will be.
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Leading Western politicians squabble over free trade and unwanted children die
In the distant Congo crops don't grow the ground is cracked and dry
And some waste food and money and the good life enjoy
And in the World are many powerless people and one of them is I.
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Old Bill is very wealthy and always so well dressed
And beautiful young women in their twenties on him feign interest
His girlfriend Lyn is forty five years younger than him a beauty with shoulder length raven hair
Suppose money speaks all languages doesn't life seem so unfair.
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She now lays in the cemetery though life for her was hell
And her life a tragic story though that story I must tell
She migrated to here from London in nineteen fifty two
When she was only twenty brown haired with eyes of blue.
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