Francis Duggan Poems

Of any other species of bird they do not make a friend
With aggression their borders the noisy miners defend
Even against other family groups of their own kind
To all out aggression they are readily inclined
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Named after his father and grandfather from Millstreet he died far away
In Stouffville in Ontario in Canada his last remains forever lay
A long way from the top of Tullig even as the migratory bird does fly
Perhaps four to five thousand or more miles if taking the journey by sky
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A stranger on every street he does walk up and down
The dark haired young man from the far away town
A bricklayer by trade he earns a good weekly pay
But in this town his will not be a long stay
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So many like me who does dabble in rhyme
Who have penned reams of stuff over decades of time
Who never will even know of local fame
This rhyming it is a 'hungry belly game'
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Their notes are not unpleasant quite distinctive and clear
But when the pied currawongs are calling you know that rain is near
Dark crow sized birds with yellow eyes to many quite well known
They seldom mix with other birds they do flock with their own
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I am really not much of a wordsmith my worth as a rhymer in doubt
But for me there is never a shortage of things that i can write about
A beautiful and sunny evening with a gentle cool coastal breeze
In the sunlit parks of Mermaid Waters birds chirp and sing on the bushes and trees
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I only know that my life's journey one day or one night has to end
And any talk of a life after bodily death is too much for me to comprehend
Many believe in a life hereafter that the soul has wings for to fly
That there are Worlds for good and bad people millions of miles beyond the sky
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She is such a beautiful person and she has such a beautiful face
And the World for her living in it is surely a much better place
One always willing to help others in her ways so gentle and kind
She is always smiling and happy the one with the beautiful mind
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The best things in life for free are all mine
How lovely to sit in the warm sunshine
In the park by the sea on a beautiful day
For Nature's creations money we do not pay
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A big man well over two meters his booming voice is not hard to hear
One might say to the point of deafening if to him you are standing near
Whenever by chance i do meet him on talking to him i do not delay
His conversation does not interest me meeting him never does make my day
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