Francis Duggan Poems

By the church on the hill some of her ancestors lay
In the old Cullen graveyard so far, far away
In Cullen they lived and in Cullen they died
And their descendants have travelled the World far and wide.
...

The smoke of the barby, the smell of frying meat
And even in the shade we perspire in the heat
And I scratch where the mozzies are biting my feet
Far distant from Ireland, North Cork and Millstreet.
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In the sunshine a blackbird is singing in the front garden
on a birch tree
And she lives far south of Duhallow and her old home place of Knocknagree
A widow in her mid to late forties her brown hair is fading to gray
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The wanderlust is in him he is young and carefree
He's now in sunny Queensland deep diving out at sea
He's been to Asia, North America and Europe his next port of call Japan
For one in his young twenties he's a well travelled man.
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She loves green Mother Nature with all her heart and soul
And in the fight to save Birdsland from the developers she played a leading role
And to the cause of Nature she remains ever true
The noble Betty Marsden her equals only few.
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Ned Kelly perhaps the best known Australian though in old Melbourne jail he died dangling from a rope
A victim of years of police harassment he was one born on life's precarious slope
For years the Kelly family were victims of racism by the racist authorities they never really did get a fair go
But what happened to the Kellys is still happening racism has not died as we well know.
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Every shower of rain is welcome it's been two months so they say
Since it last rained in Maleny and it's raining there today
And the farmer he feels happy though his paddocks looking bare
And he thanks the God rainmaker that some rain he now can spare.
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I've broken a promise I've made to myself
That I'd return to Ireland in the Spring
But without me grass will grow and flowers will bloom
And birds will build their nests and chirp and sing.
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We know there are poets and poetasters and poetry and doggerel
And we know some great poets lived and died hungry and life for them was Earthly Hell
And one of them James Clarence Mangan perhaps he was old Ireland's best
Though a successful life he did not lead his poetry does stand the time test.
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There are no signs of rain in the blue and gray sky
For many months it has been so very dry
The cracked and bare earth it is crying out for rain
But in the long range weather forecast the drought will remain
...