Francis Duggan Poems

The same old Robbie Murphy he hasn't changed at all
The Robbie I went to school with and with played under age football
The Duhallow accent he took with him to the U S of A
Still very much a part of him and remains with him today.
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You feel that the World is against you and nothing for you is going right
And you struggle just for to make ends meet and life is a hard uphill fight
But than you there are far worse off people though you do not see things that way
In Rwanda a Country in Africa teenagers to support their families work today.
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He asked me how much money you make from your verses? I answered to me no financial gain,
He laughed said you've got to be joking pray tell me then can you explain
That you keep on putting your thoughts to paper one might have thought you'd give writing away
Since you don't get financially rewarded a fool only works without pay?
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Mango Tree of the Web Poetry Corner has not been well of late
And for the poet our greatest wish is that 'you hang in there mate'
The Web Poetry Corner needs you such great beauty you create
You write such marvellous poetry and with the best you rate.
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The sky it is gray o'er the high mountain village and the sun will not shine in Olinda today
And on the high gum trees the currawongs piping they tell us that rain cannot be far away
From the wooded highlands of the Yarra Ranges, the chirpings of rosellas the cawing of the crow
The birds sing and chirp in the changeable weather when rain is approaching they tell us they know.
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Heather wrapped a blanket around her in her final resting bed
And Laz and I we shovelled earth upon her beside the garden shed
And in her old home in Brown Street her bones at rest now lay
The old brown canine Woofy her lot will be ours one day.
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They do not need to struggle for to get by on his massive pay cheques
Though things not going too well of late for Posh and her man Becks
The gossip columns have it that he's doing more than starring at football
The one looked up to as a role model is human after all.
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The day that the football club won it's only flag young Joe was seventeen
He missed out on a medal that day too young to make the team
The club he captained later on in a Grand Final defeat
At the final siren by one heart breaking point his side were barely beat.
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What is this life but a brief spell in the great sands of time
We quickly grow to adulthood and fleeting is our life prime
In three score and ten years we are old ours not a lengthy span
Each year from there a bonus for any woman or man.
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A balding man my hair is gray decades ago it was brown
Were I a horse I'm sure by now that I would have been put down
I feel so very stiff and old father time is catching up on me
And I for one don't fear life's end what is to be will be.
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