Francis Duggan Poems

He won't be going to grow old north of Echuca where he first saw light of day
In South Gippsland in Wonthaggi he will grow old and gray
And in the Wonny cemetery his bones will forever lay
In the historical coal mining Town he feels happy for to stay.
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They are in our mouths and nostrils, they are in our eyes and hair
In our toilets and wash basins they live around us everywhere
In our hearts, kidneys, brains and intestines they work their way in there
And the damage they do to us doctors can't seem to repair.
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Freedom is a thing you can't impose
By bomb or bullet or at the point of the gun
A Government led by a Dictator foreign powers may over-throw
But freedom for the people in that way can't be won
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You may move distant from your old Hometown only to find your past has come with you
It follows like a scent hound on your track and to your new address you it will pursue
In your past there may not be any acts of shame but still it will keep following you around
It is with you where ever you will go it is not back there in your old Homeground.
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In leafy suburbs pubs and clubs they do their socializing
Their mates like them upper wealthy middle class which does not seem surprising
For these are aspirational people and like they say birds of a feather
Do not socialize with other birds they mostly flock together.
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Back there in old Duhallow at the dawning of this late November day
By the banks of the river the grass is hoary gray
From the frost that lingered overnight the air has a heavy chill
And dark rain clouds are gathering above old Clara hill.
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When I am gone forever and in Nature's bosom lay
I do not want those who know of me to for me kneel and pray
Since their prayers won't bring me back to life why waste their time on me
And praying for dead people seems such a waste of energy.
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He is that sort of likeable character who inspire bards to rhyme
As a young man he went to live in England and in England he spent his prime
But he returned to live in Millstreet where the Finnow waters flow
Nostalgia stronger far than wanderlust as Connie ought to know.
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Old Joe who lives on our street he is an Englishman
His father fought in the war in Ireland he was a Black and Tan
In nineteen nineteen and nineteen twenty eighty five years ago
His Dad long with the departed and time catching up on Joe.
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She was in her seventies when I was a young man
And she is still around today her's is a lengthy span
The evergreen Hanna Lucey the late Jim the Doctor's wife
And the mother of the likeable Seamus has been granted a long life.
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