Francis Duggan Poems

A happy go lucky sort though not financially wealthy
For one in his early eighties he looks fit and healthy
One with the wisdom of the long lived old timer
Larry the Poet is an old fashioned rhymer
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This thing known as hatred does seem a huge waste of energy and time
And it often does lead one to commit a jail worthy crime
Against the person that he or she has grown to hate
Most times bad feelings to worse feelings do escalate
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Old soldiers were young, brave and active before they grew old
And old soldiers do die hard as we have been told
Buried with military honors their praises are sung
It is not true that only the bravest die young
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One teenage girl screamed for Justin Bieber her contagious screaming was so loud
That her scream grew into a huge screaming crowd
And one scream among teenage girls spread around the World at the very mention of his name
Life for young Justin will never more be the same
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Where everyone knows everyone it is that sort of a town
And where those not well in with the well in by many are verbally put down
Where only the locally born and raised are those made to feel belong
To where everyone knows everyone where the tribal bond is strong
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You'd swear listening to him times on him were bad
The fellow who was born to a wealthy mum and dad
Managing director of one of his parents factories yet he does complain
Though him and his wife and school going son and daughter just back from a holiday in Spain
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Of Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning as some like to say
And though our wonder of her only does grow and grow
The more we learn of her the less of her we know we do know
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It has been some time three decades of years since my hair was dark brown
When i was younger, fitter and healthier near distant Millstreet Town
Till the wanderlust got into me on a bleak December day
I left the old fields i did love for places far away
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Though many aspire to poetic greatness few do make the grade
For it is said about poets they are born not made
Those who aspire to poetic greatness are many and true poets are few
You may say to that tell us something that is new
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In and out of Lake Pertobe it slowly winds it's way
And then on to the ocean close to Lady Bay
The waterway that has inspired story and rhyme
The old Merri River is so old in time
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