Francis Duggan Poems

The skylark above the brown scrubland how sweetly he carols today
Just hearing him in flights of fancy takes me north of here and far away
To that green far northern Country when wildflowers were blooming in May
The air borne skylark was carolling like a small speck in the sky blue to gray.
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The World is full of gullible people they believe everything that they hear
They believe every word of Government propagandists and they live in their cocoons of fear
The Government know that 'tis a good vote catcher when they talk of security for the State
And for them 'tis a mighty power weapon if widespread fear they can create.
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I may never meet old Duhallow again
Or in Spring hear the breeding frogs croaking in the waterlogged drain
Or see the Boggeraghs half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
Of such things memories are all I have left to retain
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In my memory they sing in the woods to me near
The beautiful songs of the song thrushes so pleasant to hear
Brown spotted gray breast, brown on wings, back, head and tail
Once seen and once heard to recognize them again you won't fail
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You may not be one who has done materially well
But of life you do have your own stories to tell
Though in your stories of life nothing of fortune and fame
You have never dishonoured your family name
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Though he had to flee his war torn homeland far away
He thinks of his birthplace in South Sudan every day
The village he fled from and where his wife and three young children under gunfire died
A victimwhose life dreams by war was destroyed
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It is a nice day near the Town of Millstreet
In the old rushy fields where the waterways meet
The dark gray faced rooks cawing on the tall beech trees
On a warm and sunny afternoon of around twenty three degrees
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Of anything in life that I have done
Cannot say that my late mum and dad would have been proud to call me son
Only know that big brother's disciples my sort does not impress
In their eyes I am a failure due to my lack of material success
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As a boy I used to take her hunting in Matty Owens bog
Old Pudsy our dark brown family and cattle dog
And to many a hare in her prime she gave chase
But she never did catch one her they did outpace
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That time is running out on me my age this does explain
But I would hate to be starting on my life's journey again
In a Human World where millions of people for jobs do compete
And everyday in life some new challenge for you to meet
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