Francis Duggan Poems

Not seen as one successful a man misunderstood
And some say his ideas of a better World won't do him any good
For God or flag or Country to the death he will not fight
And others say a decent sort who has seen wisdom's light.
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People there from every Nation and none there might feel out of place
The Dandenong Market in Victoria frequented by almost every race
The stall holders shout out their prices five dollars a box for tomatoes today
The fruit and vegies are so cheap there for so much so little to pay.
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The deliberate slaughtering of people is happening again and again
Last week it happened in Iraq and this week it's happened in Spain
And next week in some other City more people through violence will die
And some people consumed by hatred and for what I ask myself why?
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Those old brown hills will overlook the township and the birds will sing on bush and tree
And the roses will bloom in the Summer and the river will flow to the sea
And Mother Nature who has been around forever and who was there long before the birth of humanity
Her age in years cannot be numbered there is none as ancient as she.
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She still has her English accent the one known as English Jan
And she never was a mother nor a wife to any man
She ages without dyes or makeups her hair is silver gray
But do not say about her she has known a better day.
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He has not been to college or uni and for so called success in life he does not have much to show
But about flora and fauna and Nature there is so much he seems to know
He knows all of the trees in the Parkland by the bark or the leaves that they wear
A man who knows much about Nature and for the health of Nature he care.
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He may seem outdated and he may be long dead
But I still love the songs of Thomas Moore she said
His old Parlour Ballads I love and enjoy
Such things of great beauty not born to die.
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Some great poets never claimed they were poets of their status they were not so sure
And they always lived short of money and likewise they died very poor
One might say that they deserved better but that's life as some people say
In death fame to you will not matter you need recognition today
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In the undergrowth the scrubwren chirp amongst the scrub and bushes
And on the melaleuca trees the restless grey shrike thrushes
Are whistling in the sunshine they sing and chirp together
And brown butterflies flit around the shrubs in the breezy Autumn weather.
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No matter what your social status society's judges you will classify
You are either a winner or loser and your tag with you will stay till you die
They do not ask is he or she a good person they do not see that as a success
You've got to have power and money or others you will not impress.
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