Francis Duggan Poems

Thade Hickey was a nice and honest person one I'll remember till my dying day
By any means not old perhaps in his mid sixties though with the dead of Cullen he now lay
Throughout his life he lived by good example and to help others he went out of his way
Loved and respected by everyone who knew him and a thorough gentleman as one might say.
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The gold billed blackbird whistling upon the the garden tree
For the past few years a good neighbour to me
He whistles every day all through the Spring
And his song to it has a distinctive ring.
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The wonders of this wondrous Land Australia
From tiny honey possum to red roo eight foot tall
One of the World's most amazing Countries
If not the most amazing Land of all.
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No Australian or foreigner died in the Baghdad bomb blast yesterday
In the tragic news headline story were they trying to say
That the lives of Iraqi people are not as valuable as ours
In human terms are they the weeds that grow amongst the flowers?
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The gray of time in her shoulder length hair
And heavy is the life cross she has to bear
But she is not one to look for sympathy
And few if any are as brave as she.
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We know you have a good grasp of the language
And we know that you are good to write and spell
And at classy poetry readings you recite your verses
And that your audience love you is not hard to tell.
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Since he split up with his young wife the dark haired beauty Elly
Big Andy he feels out of sorts and he has gone to jelly
Through the courts she barred him from their home their two young children with her
And he feels very hard done by and about it feels quite bitter.
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I've heard much talk of Darfur though I've never been to there
Where people only live in hope and die slowly in despair
The tragic footage of there on the t v news brings it all home to me
Of what it must be like for those who live in abject poverty.
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He cannot sustain relationships this orphan of a war
That took place many years ago in a Country from here far
His only offspring his daughter and her children he has not seen for years
In the privacy of his room his memories often move him to tears.
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I will not call you Mr President Mister Bush for you will do
For to any higher human principles you never could be true
You remind me of the garden weed who stifle the pretty flower
That's what you've done to many people with your gross abuse of power.
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