Lines On Meeting Maura Frehill Poem by Francis Duggan

When I think back in years to come my memory will dwell
On that saturday night in February at the Normandy Hotel
I'd been drinking all the evening and my thoughts were far away
In those fields by Clara mountain where I'd spent so many a day.

When a lady came up to me and she asked are you a poet?
I answered her quite frankly only doggerel I've wrote
But I do know about poetry and about poets know my share
And I've read the works of Wordsworth and John Masefield and
John Clare.

She told me she hailed from Cavan that's in Ulster in Ireland
And that her name was Maura Frehill and I clasped and shook her hand
From a place called Ballyconnell I have never been to there
Though I'd love to see all of Ireland and I will some day I swear.

She sat down at my table and we chatted for awhile
And she won me with her beauty and she flashed a cheerful smile
A lovely Irish Cailin and her young heart free of guile
She had travelled far from Ireland to Australia many a mile.

One could tell she came from Ireland as she had an Irish face
Fair skinned, brown haired with cheerful ways a trait of Irish race
A twenty five year woman and she yet not in her prime
And were I a poet I'd pen for her a worthy poem that rhyme.

I'll remember Maura Frehill she'll live in my memory
That lovely Irish lady I met in the Normandy
That pub in Melbourne City at the heart of Clifton Hill
A long long way from Cavan's lush green meads and rippling rills.