Francis Duggan Poems

The paddocks lush and green and the wild birds do sing
In Illowa in October in the prime of the Spring
The meadows being mowed for baled silage or hay
And on nutritious young grass cattle gaining weight by the day
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He is living far south of where Araglen flow
In the fields of the badger the rook and the silver backed crow
In green old Duhallow where he first saw light of day
The years have left him looking old, tired and gray
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He died in the evening four days ago of a massive heart attack
Many of the parish poor today shed tears at the burial of Father Jack
They loved him for the man he was compassionate and kind
A better friend than Father Jack they never more will find
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Peter O' Sullivan a farmer of an old family history
Spent all of his younger years in Ballinagree
But in Cloghoulamore near Millstreet where he raised his family with Ellen his wife
He did spend the greater part of his long life
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You should feel lucky who you are you have good hands and feet
And you can walk unassisted on the flag walks of the street
Some people spend their waking hours sitting in a wheelchair
You cannot say that life to you is in any way unfair
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They have raised their children as man and wife
And never any secrets between them in life
They have an open marriage as they say
That this is the game any husband and wife can play
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To one politician criticizing one of an opposition why pay any heed
Since to hear one praise one of the opposition would seem strange indeed
Since most politicians with their feelings are not honest in any way
Of their political opponents they never have any kind things for to say
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Life comes to us by chance would you not agree
And it is chance made an ordinary rhymer of me
We all are gifted in some sort of a way
That everyone is good at something does seem true to say
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Your luck it will turn if with hope you keep faith
As is said everything does come to those who do wait
Today for you has been another bad day
Things for you can get better it does seem this way
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It is said where Anu does lay in east Kerry her fertile breasts grew to the Paps of Shrone
They overlook the small fields all around them distinguished in their ditches made of stone
A story from the first people of Sliabh Luachra call it myth or legend or call it what you may
The Paps of Shrone a feature of east Kerry does overlook the Sliabh Luachra of today
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