Francis Duggan Red Poems

You will die when the reaper will come for you though others
on that have different to say
Such as when god says you've had your innings and to beg for his mercy to him they pray
I may be wrong and they may be right who knows for their guess is as good as mine
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Around Halls Gap in Gariwerd with roo mobs them you see
The introduced red deer there living wild and free
Not as plentiful as grey kangaroos and yet by no means rare
Of danger posed by man and dog they seem all too aware
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The last red rose of the Autumn her scattered petals lay
On the grass beside her thorny mother tree for Nature's gleaners of decay
The dark to gray wingless insects who live their lives on the ground
Where fallen leaves and flower petals are such life forms to be found
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People of every color and nationality and creed
Red is the color of our blood when we bleed
The presidents the royals the celebrities and billionaire
With the poorest of the poor one thing in common do share
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In the parks and paddocks in and around Halls Gap them one often does see
The red deer of Europe there live wild and free
Though not as plentiful there as gray kangaroos red deer are not rare in any way
In the Geriwerd Ranges they are are animals one does see every day
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On the grass her petals the last red rose of the Fall
As decaying food for insects destined to crawl
For as long as they live like the rose they too will die
The fate of the insects and the rose is the fate of you and i
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It does not matter who you are or the color of your skin
The life's journey that will end for all from a woman does begin
With each other we share so much in common our similarities are not rare
It is the same air they do breathe the pauper and the billionaire
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Small Varieties of waders on beaches they like to reside
Searching for tiny marine life washed in by the tide
Never seen them flock together though territory they do share
Though often seen they are uncommon to rare
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Though most of her secrets from us she keeps hidden away
From Nature we learn something new every day
And the more we learn of her the more we realize
That there is far more to her than we can see with our eyes
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Red browed finches or red browed firetails two names they are known by
They like to live near cover where from bush to tree they fly
The reason they live near cover the well informed say
Is that they need places to hide in from bigger birds of prey.
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The red flowers of the waratah how beautiful they bloom
When the wattles are in yellow and gold is on the broom
They cannot be mistaken so large and a rich red
And much about their beauty has been written and been said
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Since red is the blood we all shed when we bleed
Is there any more proof that anyone does need
That all people should be equal black and white and brown
Though many poor people live in every town
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Ornithologists seldom talk about them and little written of them for to read
Males mostly green with some yellow in their unders and red rumps they search on the ground for their seed
Their common name is red rumped parrot birds one does not see every day
They live in their own small groups inconspicuous in their own quiet way
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For their courage and kindness they are known everywhere
In war zones and natural disaster zones you will find them there
With the Nurses of the Red Cross few could hope to compare
One truly can say of them that their type are rare.
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A red black spotted ladybird upon a stalk a thing of beauty rare
Reminds one of a poem by the Helpston poet the renowned one John Clare
The 'Clock a Clay' he referred to a ladybird by another name
The poem lives on as a poetic gem along with the poet's fame.
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You are one who is born to lead
A very fine person indeed
And great things we hear of you and read
Though red is the blood we all bleed.
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It is a very natural thing for one to love their Land of birth
And think that their Homeland Country is the finest Land on Earth
In his Lay of the last Minstrel Walter Scott said it all
Often with tears the migrant the old Homeland recall.
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One can't mistake them for their scratchy song
To small seed eating family of birds they belong
Some call them red browed finches others the red browed firetails
And the females hard to distinguish from the males.
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I've listened to your racist views you waffle on for hours
But these people are the same as us their blood flow red like ours
And colour only is skin deep and yet you fail to see
That the bloke of a different race is as good as you and me.
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