Francis Duggan Poems

Of to whom and where we are born we do not have a say
Though most spiritual people do not see it that way
Some claim our parents and birthplace in life is our pre destiny
Though many with that i am sure would not agree
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Through the gray clouds of dawning in the brightening morning sky
Familiar birds even sight unseen they call out as they fly
Large dark brown parrots known to many as yellow tail black cockatoo
Whilst some others do refer to them by the name of weerloo
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The past it has gone why do you waste your tears
On mistakes you have made in the now long gone years
You cannot change what has been time ticks along fast
Make the most of the now leave the past in the past
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There is more to Nature than the birds and the bees
Or the rivers the oceans the flowers and the trees
Or the grass, the shrubs and the creatures we do see every day
She is our lifelong teacher it does seem that way
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Of the past we have only our memories time does become everyone's foe
My thoughts take me back many Seasons to half of a century ago
When Annabelle Reen was All Ireland singing Champion the beautiful teenager with hair of dark brown
That grew in ringlets to her shoulders she was the Pride of Millstreet Town
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From here to Birdsland many a kilometre of roadway
At least a four hours drive without any delay
But in my imagination i am back there today
Where the shrike thrush is whistling in his feathers of gray
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In the enclosed water tank in the backyard well hidden from sight
In his breeding Season he sings all the day and he sings all the night
Just a sort of a single plonk that he utters continuously is his breeding song
That he utters all the day and all the night long
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The boy in asylum detention his parents by drowning have died
Yet a basic right his right to live free of him is denied
Though not guilty of any crimes in detention he is forced to stay
Such a lack of compassion by Government leaders in the Human World of today
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You see the plump lady with the big smile on her face
The Human World for her living in it a better and a happier place
She helps out the poor and the financially down
The most compassionate and caring person on her side of the town
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It is only in fancy now i climb to old Clara Hill
And hear the blackbird with the bright golden bill
Sing in the high woodland of green Claramore
A long way far north of this southern shore
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