Francis Duggan Poems

In park in Leongatha by small lake on blackwood tree
I heard a greenfinch singing a bird once familiar to me
And there was no mistaking to whom the voice belong
A once familiar songster I knew him by his song.
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You told me of the peace in Northern Ireland
And for lasting peace in Ireland you did pray
But now I hear that the hard won peace is endangered
Since the terrorists won't give their bombs and guns away.
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The temperatures in the mid twenties around twenty five degrees
And the sparrows are chirping on the bushes and trees
And white butterflies flitting in the warm sunlight
In near perfect weather so breezy and bright.
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Do not wish to hear your war stories of battles fought and won
Since I saw on t v this evening a mother grieve for her dead son
Her son murdered by a sniper with a bullet in his back
And I could only feel pity for this poor mother in Iraq
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Though little strange in that most migrants would say
I often do think of old friends far away
More than twenty years since I've seen them and time ticking on
And my prime years of life to the ways of time gone.
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You feel the World's against you your car has broken down
Way out there in the country miles from the nearest town
You sit there in the driver seat your head bowed against the wheel
Thinking to yourself I'd be better off dead this is how low you do feel.
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High off of the ground I could see them
On the old oak tree trunk cavity
The wild honey bees they were buzzing
Absorbed in their honey making activity.
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Of war and it's bloodshed far too much we know
Let's hear it for peace and for all a fair go
Nationalism, Religion, Patriotism and Culture only seem to divide
And war leaders declare we have God on our side.
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For centuries of warring what wisdom have we to show
The war supposed to end all wars was fought nine decades ago
But by far too many have died in wars since then
And in any war even the supposed winners at a huge cost do win
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Since Callanan penned Gougane Barra going back many decades in time
Poetry has undergone many changes and long out of fashion is rhyme
And gone are the great Gaelic translators they are now seen as out of date
And as a poet and a translator the Cork poet with the best did rate.
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