Francis Duggan Poems

He will always feel a stranger in the unwelcoming Town
But this will not be his launching pad to great things and renown
He will move to the City where he can feel more free
Of the suspicion of strangers a part of small Town snobbery.
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The song of the chaffinch i fancy i hear
He sings in an old wood to my thoughts so near
The sunshine is warming his lovely pink breast
Nearby his mate quietly sits on her eggs in her nest
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He never more will walk in the Town of Millstreet in St Mary's cemetery at peace he lay
Perhaps in his mid forties to his early fifties he did die young and it would be fair to say
Of him that he was really a nice person he made so many friends along life's way
And one day his lot it will be our lot as for each of us there is a final day.
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If I should die tomorrow do not waste a tear on me
Instead say of life's worries he finally is free
He is with Mother Nature now and at peace where he lay
The wild birds chirp and whistle and life goes on today.
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In decades gone by nostalgia i did know
But it was a thing in time i did outgrow
Though memories of the old home fields with me remain
And in fancy i do visit them again.
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In a World of more than six billion people wildlife is disappearing
And many living things of land and sea to extinction are nearing
Habitat destruction, pollution and poaching it's toll on wildlife taking
For to save endangered species inroads we are not making,
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In quiet old Piccanniny the forest ravens caw
Around their breeding borders observing Nature's law
It is their nesting time of year and with nests to defend
The nesting pairs tell other birds where their borders do end,
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Though many better at sports and bigger and stronger than me
What i would give again for to be twenty three
Playing football with the lads in Coolikerane bog
Or out hunting with Pudsy the gallant brown dog
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How can i mourn for one that i did not know
Though to me he did seem to be a good man
He knew of fame and he knew of wealth and glory
Though short enough indeed seemed his time span
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People who do disappoint me too seem disappointed with me
Perhaps 'tis our way of thinking we look at life differently
We have much different interests little in common we share
You show some people a rabbit they will tell you 'tis a hare.
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