Christmas Day 98 Poem by Francis Duggan

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.

The temperatures soaring towards forty degrees
And 30 at least in the shade of the trees,
The cool change is coming the weather man say
But the cool change this moment seems further away.

Old Dave from his esky he pulled a cold beer
Merry Christmas to all and a happy new year
In Belgrave it may be our last Christmas Day
But life will go on and the good memories will stay.

He ate a black sausage the last on his plate
This will be our last Christmas together mate
But next Christmas by the smoky barbecue
I will drink a cold beer and I'll remember you.

My thoughts went to far off and to long ago
When Clara near Millstreet wore his hat of snow
And the fields by the farmhouse from frost looking gray
And cows in the cow byre were bellowing for hay.

And on Christmas Day evening with food on our plate
The old men told stories around the firegrate
They told of their childhood and old songs they sung
Of Christmas in Ireland back when they were young.

The temperatures soaring towards forty degrees
And it's well over thirty in the shade of the trees
And old Dave he perspires as he drinks a cold beer
A merry Christmas to all and a happy New Year.