Francis Duggan Poems

He supports the same football team and he has voted for the same political party all of his life
And he often goes home from the pub and argues with his wife
Ten times a grandfather he sees anyone who believes in change
As one who lacks in conviction and in ways rather strange
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It surely is not a small World after all
The World that we live in is anything but small
There is not one living person who has been to everywhere
Every town, village and city in the big World out there
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The World's worst criminals wave their black flag
And of their heinous crimes in public they do brag
To humanity they do not have anything for to give
Since they do not believe in live and let live
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In Spring to home owners they can be a pest
When on chimneys they decide to build their stick nest
They do cause a lot of blocked chimneys in May
These medium sized dark corvids with napes of silver gray
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I long for a place of human created noise free
With Nature's own beauty everywhere around me
Free of pollution where birds sing all day
Far from where factory chimneys puff up smoke clouds of gray
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With rhyming words i am one who does like to play
And i add to my numbers of rhymes every day
To write rhymes is easy as easy as can be
Anybody can do it as most would agree
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In leaky boats from Syrian war zones far away
Hundreds of refugees arrive in Europe every day
But to undertake such a dangerous journey one needs luck on their side
And in boats that have sunk many people have died
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So many i knew i will never more meet
The most of them lay in cemeteries of the Parish of Millstreet
Whilst some from Duhallow did die far away
Far from their first home-place their last remains do lay
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In the media every day sporting stories are rife
But sport has become a diversion from the hardships endured by many in life
Suppose stories of the forgotten few of do wish to hear
It is mostly of life's winners that people do wish to read about seems obviously clear
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In the home of the kangaroo in the Land of the far south
In sky kilometers far from the waterways of the brown trout
The sun shines in a sky of blue and gray
And the nesting birds are singing in the Moyne Shire today
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