Francis Duggan Poems

It is not true that wisdom always comes with age
In a World where so few seem worthy of the title of sage
But from life we do learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
...

For so long a rhyming buff
Perhaps i have written too much rhyming stuff
That some do dismiss as doggerel
And condemn me to the poetasters hell
...

Save your sympathy for the poor living instead
Of wasting your tears and pity on the dead
Since they are past suffering and any living care
But the poor living in need of help are no longer rare
...

Eventually everyone runs out of time
And this is when the rhymer does run out of rhyme
The rhymer will write rhymes on this you can depend
Until her or his life's journey does come to an end
...

Deciduous leaves of late August not yet turning brown
At the September horse fair in old Millstreet Town
The cool nip of late Summer in the morning air
But it is quite a nice enough day for the fair
...

Some say people receive from life what is their due
Though in most cases this is not exactly true
The person dying of malnutrition in a drought stricken region and struggling for breath
Does surely than this deserve a better death
...

He will always be the aging bloke from elsewhere
A blow in from the bigger World out there
That he is not a local is not hard to tell
His accent is strong he does not speak the language well
...

The first of September and the calendar Spring
In the gray of the dawning the blackbird does sing
And the bird who does sing every day of the year
The warbling song of the magpie so pleasant to hear
...

Only the good in others he only seems to see
In him so much to admire the better man than me
One of the nicest people in our side of the town
I have never heard him in his words put anybody down
...

You may be like many others that time has left old
Whose life story in book form will never be told
On the lives of celebrities people of high public esteem
Most biographers like to write books on or so it does seem
...