Ireland's greatest Politician was Dan from Derrynane
He believed in non violence his likes not seen again
In the British house of Parliament when all of Ireland's people were subjects of the crown
The genius of O Connell for him won World wide renown.
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I went for a walk on the lake-side path today
And so disappointed am I for to say
That the lake is covered in blue green algae from end to end
To Nature few humans have been a good friend.
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From his Island in Scotland he has travelled far
But he is not one you will see in the local bar
For he is not a drinker Scottie will tell you
That with his life he has better things to do.
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Mt Rouse on the high ground it ever looks down
On the streets and the houses of old Penshurst Town
And the wide and brown Countryside for miles around
Of volcanic stones fences where rocks and stones abound.
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He looks full of arrogance and self conceit
The parking inspector as he struts down the street
His little power a boost to his ego and his self esteem
Some people are easy to please it would seem.
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To the working class men and women of all Nations their Nations to them owe
From their hard work and effort their Nation's wealth does grow
Yet in the running of the Nation they never have a say
The workers of the Nation the unsung heroes of today.
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I fancy I hear the male robin again
His red breast puffed out as he sings in the rain
In the grove near where I lived many Seasons ago
A different life now from the one I did know.
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This Land is not your Land as much as not mine
This beautiful brown Land of warm sunshine
For each of us there is a life's final day
Our acres and homes we can't take with us behind us they stay.
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I am a poetaster years beyond my life's prime
An addictive rhymer addicted to rhyme
But against my addiction I feel powerless to fight
A tiny voice within me compels me to write.
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Though memories of them today with me remain
The girls of my boyhood I won't see them again
Of my young school-going days fifteen years from my prime
Those fond memories are not fading in time.
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