Francis Duggan Poems

She was in her late teens some twenty years ago
Joan the eldest of a family of girls of Mary and Paddy Joe
Now married with young children and time keeps ticking on
On looking back the Seasons where have those years to gone?
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Old Davy can't talk of a marvellous life
He gets a hard time from his nagging wife
Though her scorn is something that he seems to fear
It does not deter him from enjoying his beer
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Though many in time do learn the wordsmith trade
The great poets are born and cannot be made
And though most poets for their work never receive pay
With the usage of words they do have a way
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I come from the Land of the rook and gray crow
And the old rushy fields where Finnow waters flow
By many a hedgerow and many a tree
On to the Blackwater en route to the sea.
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In Claraghatlea where i first saw light of day
In the grove by the old stream i often did play
With siblings and friends we often played hide and seek
Since that long gone time there's been many a week
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Do you feel you are climbing on the hill of strife
And you are not winning the battle of life
And of any success at all you do despair
But your great lust for life keeps you hanging in there
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The clock on our lives it keeps ticking away
And even the baby that is born today
Already on his or her way to their use by date
It is very true that time on none does wait.
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The praises of everyone seems hard to sing
For how can you praise someone who has done the wrong thing
Who has harmed others in some sort of a way
Such people for their sins should be made to pay
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Climate change, global warming and wars and disease
And the victims of droughts and warlords poor Stateless refugees
Are things that we hear of and read about every day
So many will not live for to grow old and gray,
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In fourteen lines there is not much one can say
About life, Nature and love in the World of today
Though for to describe such things in depth would take pages of stuff
For one like me fourteen lines seems quite enough
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