Francis Duggan Poems

It must be a fallacy that dead canines can fly
But of the mystery in myths and legends one cannot deny
And one legend I recall from decades gone by
Is when an O Keeffe dies in Cullen dogs bark in the sky.
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Fifteen years ago he could run as fast as the wind
The champion group 1 gelding of the thoroughbred kind
At the big City race tracks big races he won
The big bay in his prime was the Nation's number one
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Poor Lukey knows of the black dog of despair
Just thirty years of age with gray in his brown hair
A mental illness has ruined his life
To it he has lost his children who are with their mum his ex wife
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I have been on life's road for many years now my life's road that to nowhere does lead
But perhaps 'tis the negative streak I possess is the reason I fail to succeed
At achieving what I set out to achieve I now seem further from wealth and renown
Than when I was younger happy and carefree in Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town
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Were I a songwriter I would pen a song
Of the river to the sea that babbles along
By ditch and by hedgerow by night and by day
From the valley by the brown hill from here far away.
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We do not live many decades on an average ten years with three score
For we too are Nature's life forms just that and nothing more
And though many with what I say here many may choose to disagree
That they are entitled to their opinions seems quite okay with me
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He is more than a few years beyond his life's prime
Yet the gifted poet Bob pens his comments in rhyme
The rhymes from his pen without any effort flow
And as a poet his reputation does grow
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Feelings of dislike to hatred can lead that's something we all do know
But such feelings are of no use to you so why not let them go
An eye for an eye is not a good idea since that does not change a thing
'Tis not the praises of revenge and it's dark ways that we should feel glad to sing
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In Australia the last sunday in July is National Tree Planting Day
The Green Groups in the National parks tree planting for love of the environment they plant trees without pay
The weather to them is not a deterrent they work in the cold morning breeze
Even heavy rain does not deter them the Greenies are out planting trees.
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'Tis true enough mate your best days may be gone
But with your life's battles you do carry on
Born to poor parents on Poverty Street
But with gusto the challenges of life you meet
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