Francis Duggan Poems

Of the beauty that I once knew occasionally I dream
And the past becomes the present in my subconscious 'twould seem
And the scratchy song of the dipper in the river I can hear
His voice that once seemed distant to me now seems quite near.
...

The Country that she hails from is far north of here and far away
A heavily populated Indian City known Worldwide as Bombay
Her skin as brown as a ripe chestnut her shoulder length hair as black as coal
And her beautiful dark brown eyes are the mirror to her soul.
...

The gum trees at Kalorama not more than seventy years old
But even a young Mountain Ash is a giant to behold
They seem to almost touch the sky standing on the higher ground
And they obscure the mountain scenery for miles and miles around.
...

When Sonny Liston was World heavyweight Boxing Champion the
World was a much different place
Though before he won the title from Floyd Patterson the first man had been to outer space
I recall photos of him after he lost his title to Muhammad Ali the look of disappointment in his face
...

That I condemn cruelty to animals may seem hypocritical since I am one who often eat meat
And many animals slaughtered for human consumption those responsible for them mistreat
And since I am not a vegetarian I am not in a position to say
That I am not responsible for cruelty to animals when I am in an indirect way.
...

He thought of his mountain of worries his impending court case with his ex wife
For the right to access to his children for him nothing easy in life
No hope of reconciliation with her with the man she loves she now live
His only crime was for to love her and he gave her all he could give.
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The tiny brown wren I remember is one who has a big bird song
And once heard next time you hear him you will not get him wrong
He and his wife together they raise a big family
Up to ten tiny children with them I often times happened to see.
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When she looks in her mirror her real self she can't see
She says I look fat and overweight though she doesn't seem that way to me
But our eyes can only tell us what our eyes want us to believe
And through her eyes this woman her own self she deceive.
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A bright and sunny Summer's morning and clear and blue the sky
And white, brown and spotted butterflies around the garden fly
And the nearby hills of Archies Creek now wear their Summer brown
All in the prime of Summer in old Wonthaggi Town.
...

By the way you talk of your hero one would swear out of him the sun shine
Don''t try to convince me of his worth your hero will never be mine
To me your hero is responsible of crimes against humanity
Because of him thousands have died and thousands more maimed and injured why do you talk of him to me.
...