Francis Duggan Poems

The young man he loves parties and sex, discos and beer
The old man he loves short walks after evening tea with his old dear
His party days long over his legs feel tired and slow
He too enjoyed his glory days some fifty years ago.
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He was the little boy who played in the Schoolyard
Now in his prison cell by life he has been scarred
His future looking bleak a black mark against his name
Time behind prison walls only earns one ill fame.
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Many left the old Town by the river to work and live in Cities far away
From where they went to school and spent their early years and first saw light of day
But some remained in the Homeplace and there worked for lower pay
And credit them for their love of home those who at home did stay.
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Give me a cause to fight for I'll fight for it as long as the cause is worthy and just
As long as the cause it does not entail violence or secrecy that does lead to mistrust
As long as the cause is of benefit to others like the forgotten children of the lesser god
Poor refugees who flee from war and famine the Stateless and the homeless and downtrod.
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We all can't be wealthy and famous and our praises often sung
And we all can't be athletic looking and beautiful and young
And no such a thing as Tir Na Nog 'The Land of eternal youth'
and that time takes care of everyone is only a basic truth.
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It is with great sadness I recall the big hearted one Sean Fay
Only in his early fifties in June 05 of heart failure he passed away
At 4.30 a m he rose from bed for work each working day
And he was one who always had to work hard for his pay.
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If not the greatest mind of all time surely the greatest of his day
In ideas four hundred years ahead of his time that's what scientists and inventors say
There was only one Leonardo was there ever as great as he?
He was born a natural genius in the fifteenth century.
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One can hear the ocean roaring from a half a mile away
The wild waves of Kilcunda are rolling high today
They crash against the volcanic rock face and spume up a foamy white spray
And chilly Winter winds blow above the cliffs through woolly looking clouds of gray.
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As religious poets go few with him to compare
And his poems about them have a beauty that is rare
And it was for love of Country that he died
And courage of him could never be denied.
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The twenty ninth day of June 05 we will remember it was such a beautiful day
At Bayswater church and Yarra Glen cemetery we said our goodbyes to Sean Fay
A Winter sun shone in the blue sky in the Church yard a lone bag piper played 'Amazing Grace'
For a friend who had left us forever his was a known and well loved face.
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