Francis Duggan Poems

You could do better with your spare time to me she did say
Than adding to your numbers of rhymes every day
For which you never receive any pay
You are a strange fellow in your own strange way
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In and out of Ralph Illidge Sanctuary it slowly winds it's way
Through Naringal East by night and by day
The Brucknell Creek that is so old in time
That has been the inspiration of the writers of song, story and rhyme
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We live in the now and yesterday has gone
And tomorrow will dawn and life will go on
And for some people this will be their final day
We are born to die life works in this way
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An honourable person was buried today
Of anyone she never had unkind things to say
To her children a good mother and to her late husband a good wife
Kind, caring and compassionate she lived a good life
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That anybody does not wish to be irrelevant in the Human World of today
Is something that is only true for to say
Though some feel no great desire for lots of money and fame
The need to be liked is in most just the same
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Though it has been many years since i was a boy
Old memories remain as a source of joy
In the groves by my first home in the prime of the Spring
The wild birds of Nature did whistle and sing
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You can only in life do the best you can do
I am quoting the wise one old Dave Belaroo
A man who has travelled on the road to elsewhere
And worked in many a town and city in the big World out there
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The hard working and honest people the justice system does fail
Since the World's wealthiest criminals seldom serve time in jail
They run big corporations but of them one can say
That they do not live their lives in an honest and honourable way
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Has the bond of friendship in you weakened of friends you used to know
Due to the tyranny of distance and years of absence apart from them you seem to grow
To them you have become a memory of a long gone by gone day
One they used to feel close to but from them now lives far away
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The paddocks of the Moyne Shire are not always green
In Summer quite bare and brown they often have been
But there is beauty in the Moyne Shire at all times of year
Where the flutes of the magpies one often does hear
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