Francis Duggan Poems

Will not matter to you when you are deceased if your remains are put to ground
Or cremated in a crematorium and in your favorite place your ashes spread around
Though many people in their last will and testament decide where their remains lay
And yet the dead are past all feeling despite what some may think or say
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It is hard to write anything good not even good rhyme
Something that would live over decades of time
And though writers are many good writers are few
In this i am not saying anything that is new
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Though i have worked on pipelines in and near Ballarat
I cannot say that i have been there and done that
And worked on cherry pickers trimming tall trees
Above electricity power-lines a job that had dangers of varying degrees
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The well known sheepdog trialer one of the best in the Land
That his border collies are champion dogs not hard to understand
Often wearing brown work boots, blue shirt, black pants and akubra hat of brown
One familiar to many in every sheepdog trialing town
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Our biological clocks ever ticking away
Only to stop at the last moment of our last day
Of liquid and food you have more than enough
A nice home to live in you have never known it physically tough
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Of the praises of the heroes of war the patriots may sing
But war in itself is a terrible thing
And even victory in war comes at a huge cost
In injury to many for life and in lives that are lost
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Compared to big horses he does look rather small
But to them he does not feel in any way inferior at all
For such a little fellow his neigh is rather loud
With young Belinda on his back he does seem quite proud
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Though some have told me i have wasted my time
On my many Seasons of penning of rhyme
What they think of me is their business and this suits me fine
And what is their business is no business of mine
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A gem of the Moyne Shire old Koroit Town
As a place of Irish music it has won renown
Quite close to Tower Hill with links to the Dreamtime
Koroit has inspired the writers of story and rhyme
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She hails from the place where the dark Merri flow
As on towards Lady Bay it crawls deep and slow
Her shoulder length hair is as dark as the wing of a crow
A beautiful woman in her early twenties she has the inner glow
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