Francis Duggan Poems

The top of my head bald my sideburns are gray
And tis plain for to see i am past my best day
And of what you speak of me with me is okay
As long as it is true of me what you do say
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Though love can have it's many disappointments it is indeed such a beautiful thing
And of love the poets write of in their poetry and of love so many songsters one hear sing
Without love human society could not function there are so many forms of love in life
The love that parents display for their children the love that is the bond of man and wife.
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He walks the by-road that is lit by moonlight
As he sings his way home in the still of the night
A man in his fifties his hair silver gray
And surely he has known a far better day.
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For the flag of a Nation i never would die
For I'm not patriotic of that i won't lie
The battles of life for me are hard enough
And believe me at times i do find the going tough.
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At Mcloughlins beach in the Spring of the year
The beautiful flute of the curlews one hear
The eastern curlews they sing as they fly
Their music echo through Gippsland's coastal sky
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Don't judge him for money or for his lack of it
And don't judge him if on the sidewalks he does spit
He once was a proud man from grace he did fall
He has his addictions so too don't we all,
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This countryside could do with weeks of rain
The dams near empty and bone dry every drain
Yet the six day forecast is for warm and dry
And the sun burns brightly in the clear blue sky.
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When i am long gone and forgotten and of me not one memory
The magpie lark in the Town parkland all day long will sing out pee wee
And life it will go on as usual and the Seasons will come and go
And the creek born in the high country downland to the river will flow,
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Perhaps he said it for to hurt my feelings when he dismissed the stuff i pen as doggerel
I know myself that i have room for improvement though the stuff i write i never try to sell
I just send it into The Web Poetry Corner Webmaster Willy Chaplin never does say no
He is prepared to include everybody for all he does believe in a fair go.
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Above the Towns and Villages across the moonlit sky
Towards the fields by Mushera mountain the migrating redwings fly
They leave their northern woodlands when the cold north winds blow
Before the onset of Winter and the first heavy fall of snow.
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