Francis Duggan Poems

His praises he does not need others to sing
He lives in his own way and he does his own thing
He has no desire to be popular and well known
One might say a man with a mind of his own
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Far north in Duhallow near the Town of Millstreet
In the flat and rushy old fields where the Cails and Finnow meet
And flows on to the Blackwater that flows to the ocean shore
A journey through north east of Cork County of sixty miles
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There is plenty of room in Heaven where winged angels dwell
But things are very different in Satan's World in Hell
It is vastly overcrowded and conditions there are bad
But for the souls of deceased sinners I cannot say I feel sad
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Though for all of us there is a last night and day
'Tis great to be alive is all I can say
I cannot understand those who wish to be dead
They cannot be as some do say right in the head
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For the Cork Gaelic Footballers another humbling defeat
By their neighbours Kerry in Croke Park once more they've been beat
In Gaelic Football in Ireland Kerry to the fore
With 36 All Ireland titles and their fans hoping for more.
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The old coastal countryside looking so green
The greenest and healthiest for years it has been
The paddocks made lush by recent heavy Spring showers
And the capeweed in bloom in their bright yellow flowers
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For her soul there isn't any need for to pray
For it was a good person that was buried today
To help those in need of help she went out of her way
And a bad word of anyone she never did say
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'Tis true what is said of some people that we become what in ourselves we do see
And if you think that you are a failure then a failure you'll turn out to be
Self doubt has become my barrier to success and of such I will never be free
For an example on negative thinking you need not look further than me
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Perhaps I will never again see old Clara overlooking high Claramore
Though in fancy I walk in the old fields through places I walked on before
Coming to this Southern Country Where I have grown older and gray
The clock on my life it is ticking and ticking and ticking away
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You will not hear Bruno complaining though his prime years are in the long gone
He says me love life and me happy and me hope for to keep living on
Until one known as reaper will take me and me hope that won't be for somewhile
He is such a happy old migrant the one with the broad toothy smile
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