Francis Duggan Poems

It will happen again as it has often happened before
It is a squabble for power between Gillard and Ruud that and nothing more
For themselves and not for their Country the very aspirational politicians only does care
Something of which i am sure many are aware
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You talk of your far paradise in the sky
Where above sunlit valleys winged angels do sing as they fly
And birds sing all year in the pleasant sunshine
Your eternal utopia seems truly divine
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On how we treat others we do have a choice
Like we have control over our tone of voice
For rude and insulting behavior to pay there's a price
And most do seem drawn to people who are nice
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It has been awhile since i was a young man
And i know that i have lived the most of my life span
I am only five years short of three score and ten
And physically on the decline like all ageing men
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Slightly built and athletic to look at and so quick on his feet
In his prime years Jimmy Twohig he was a great athlete
In Irish Athletics his once was a well known face
In the colours of Balydaly he often raced into first place
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To their roosting trees in the town park they call out as they fly
A large flock of long bill corellas in the darkening evening sky
At least one hundred of them for to roost they congregate
A group of them together a lot of sound create
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Have you ever thought of how time ticked on so fast
As in your mind you re-lived the memories of Seasons long past
Of the place of your younger years from where you now live far away
And of the boys and girls you knew there where might they be today
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Any of my past bad experiences are not worthy to tell
Since in war zones and drought stricken regions millions live in Earthly Hell
In the refugee camps of the big World out there
The dispossessed, hungry and homeless not made to feel welcome elsewhere
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A friend of mine did tell me of what a sort of former friend was saying of me
One who by his own admission is now my sworn enemy
What he said of me is quite untruthful but does it matter anyway
Since to karma for his nastiness the price will be his to pay
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My rhymes not considered to be poetry and i'm not much use at writing prose
We all cannot be above average as one would have to suppose
But we all do need a hobby and for as long as i do live
I hope to be penning verses as rhyming joy to me does give
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