Francis Duggan Poems

Though little information on him in which to read
Jack Gleeson a young stockman founded the kelpie working breed
Of dog in Casterton in Victoria in eighteen seventy one
They rival the border collies as farm dogs next to none.
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Those cruel to animals can be cruel to people they find their pleasure on inflicting pain
For cruelty to the cruel is a power thing gratification from seeing their victims suffer they gain
Cruel people they have lost their human compassion the window to their soul shaded to light
They even are bordering on the psychotic in distinguishing on what is wrong from right,
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His best ever finish is a seventeenth place
And 'tis likely now he'll never win any race
He goes by the nickname of 'the unplaced athlete'
But the main thing about him is that he does compete
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Where people of different cultures and colors and religion and races live in harmony
Is the sort of a town that appeals most to me
Where multiculturalism does not work racism and fundamentalism for this to blame
For to be a monocultural town is hardly a claim to fame
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Close to if not eighty of time quite a span
I often see him walking in the park the grumpy old man
I said hello to him a few times but me he choose to ignore
He is one i will not be greeting anymore
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In his mind for sadness there is not any space
He always does have a big smile on his face
The lilt in his laughter makes for a happy sound
He carries joy with him and shares it around
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Good health and happiness and freedom of inner strife
These are the most valuable things in your life
These are the things that cannot be bought or sold
For all of the World's money and gold
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Her tribe far from here north as the crow flies
The little black girl with the chestnut brown eyes
Her shoulder length hair dark as feather of crow
And there is great warmth in her cheery hello.
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Horatius was a sixth century Roman hero glorified in Macaulay's Lays Of Ancient Rome
Horatius on the bridge who could forget it and it lives on as a classic English poem
He held the bridge against Lars Porsena's Etruscan army and gallantly with the bridge he went down
And his courage gave birth to an immortal legend he beat the odds and saved his old Hometown.
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The blackbird's song it takes me far away
To northern Land and to a distant day
His kin birds sang all day until sundown
In leafy groves just out of Millstreet Town.
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