Francis Duggan Poems

A nice sunny evening in Illowa of nineteen degrees
With a refreshing coolness in the coastal breeze
That blows across the paddocks up from Gormans Bay
So pleasant to be outdoors on such a nice day
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Clive James the famous poet of Kogarah in Sydney will never see Australia again
Till the day he will die in England he will remain
Too unwell and unhealthy for to travel by sky
There even comes a time when the migratory bird cannot fly
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Love, Kindness and Compassion does not come from elsewhere they can only come from within
By making yourself a better person you make the World better to live in
Those who take and take and never do give
Are never making the World in better to live
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Rain, hail, wind, frost or snow the members of the Millstreet pipe band will play
At the Square of Millstreet Town to welcome New Year's Day
The pubs are closed and in mood for song the New Year revelers sing along
As the pipers play For Auld lang Syne Robert Burns New Year's song
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At the local pub on Saturday night
Everyone is happy not a care in sight
There is laughter and music and dancing and song
And those too shy to sing solo join in the sing along
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Above a rushy meadow in early July
The little mottled brown skylark does sing as he fly
A musical speck in the blue and gray sky
Of human kind one who will always be shy
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To help others she does go out of her way
And she performs a good deed sometimes two every day
Without seeking recognition or reward in monetary pay
Yet not everyone of her has kind things to say
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On few things you and i can seem to agree
On your thinking you are quite different to me
Your idea of what constitutes a successful person are quite different to mine
But each to their own views and this suits me fine
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I have never been to Western Australia though one day i hope to visit there
By all accounts a vast area of amazing scenery as beautiful as anywhere
With vast tracts of brown land uninhabited by people where dangerous snakes do abound
People have gone lost in the wilds of Western Australia without trace of them never more to be found
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As a child and a teenager she would have heard the male snipe on a Spring night
Under the cloak of darkness in his courtship flight
With his tail feathers make a drumming sound
As above his breeding territory he flies around and around
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