Francis Duggan Poems

The changes are happening in Millstreet i hear of or i have been told
And the mentors i knew in my boyhood are either deceased or quite old
And Millstreet is now multicultural and many migrants now live there
And the changes keep happening in Millstreet like the changes keep happening elsewhere.
...

Oh you with the inflated ego you feel that you are a true great
An aura of great self importance about yourself you try to create
Your head it seems to keep expanding with conceit you do seem overfull
You do like the sound of your own voice though you do talk a whole lot of bull
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I have grown greyer and older but i have not grown more wise
And how little i know about life I've come to realize
And though no fool like an old fool some have been known to say
A lesson or two for us all from living life each day,
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Some people in business do not know how to play fair
One might say they like to get more than their share
Of the substantial profits of their business ventures they live by deceit
It does not seem to bother them when others they do cheat
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People of every Nation and colour and race
Are gathered together here in the one place
The World becoming more multicultural that's how twould appear
People from most parts of the World they live around here
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Old Clara in his hat of snow, the stream bank high is flowing
And across the wet and bare and deserted fields the cold north winds are blowing
Winter arrives in his cloak of gray on the first morning of December
And the redwings chirp on the bare hedgerows old memories i remember,
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He was the quiet achiever in his own quiet way
And quite generous and witty his friends of him do say
A good father to his son Michael and his daughter Ellen and a devoted husband to Lee his good wife
And he was one who made many friends on his journey through life.
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The first day of December so breezy and so bright
And butterflies are flitting in the beautiful sunlight
And the sweet song of the blackbird is floating in the breeze
And clusters of white blossoms on the maleluca trees,
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Tis only by your local fame you will ever know renown
For that's how life it seems to be in the one pub Country Town
And if you are a stranger there a stranger you'll remain
For friendships in such places are always hard to gain
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We hear so much of terminal illnesses of people dying in their prime
But the longest life is not that long we all become victims of time
And whether you live to be one hundred or die at twenty five
The thing that keeps us living is our desire to survive
...