Francis Duggan Poems

There's one thing we should know about terrorism it will not be beaten by force
But we can lessen the threat of it by treating it at it's source
Like in our attitude to those different to us since the sort of a Human World we live in we help to create
Since racism and cultural divisions only does give rise to hate
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Wise people are people who do not feel wise
The depth of their wisdom they do not realize
Not arrogant or conceited in any way
Though very profound things you do hear them say
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In the once great river pollution is rife
Nowadays it does not support much aquatic life
In a polluted river fresh water fish rare
Pollution can cause extinction of that much we are aware
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Old Rupert the border collie his muzzle is gray
And clearly he has known a far better day
His kind master Gen of him does take good care
As she says the Rupert Dogs of this World are rare
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If you think I am a loser well that does suit me fine
Since what you think about me is your business not mine
I only live good as I can wish none an Earthly Hell
I do not have a gift as such I just pen doggerel.
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For baby Matilda Mitchell life's trials have started early
And one might say by lady luck she has not been treated fairly
But since her operation for her cleft palate she seems healthier and brighter
And on her mum and dad Gwen and Richard the burden of care lighter.
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Amongst the thousands of faces not one I do know
The noise of the traffic that buzz to and fro
The urban surroundings don't suit me at all
I long for the place where the currawong call
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He lived by the Killarney road a few miles from Rathmore
And he was one that I had known since I was three or four
A character he was of sorts and though from life long gone
In the hearts of those who knew him well Charlie is living on.
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I do like the Italian cypress it is such a nice small garden tree
So skinny yet pretty to look at it does seem attractive to me
Ideal for the small town garden as it does take up so little space
That is the great beauty of Nature for everything there is a place
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Along the quiet back streets pedalling up and down
Three boys on their bicycles in the old country town
The prime years of their lives a decade ahead
The future belong to the youth as has often been said
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