Francis Duggan Seasons Poems

A friend of mine just a short while ago I tried to look her in the eye
But she turned her face away from me and now I ask myself why
She does not seem to wish to know me since I've never done her any harm
Am I that ugly looking as well as one bereft of charm?
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Like the Seasons the legends they come and the legends they go
But the river downland to the great ocean flow
And long after the life from all others have gone
Ageless Mother Nature will be living on.
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Near the Town where i spent many Seasons mine nowadays might be a strange face
But so many migrants not unlike me become strangers in their homeplace
Where once many people did know them they would pass as strangers today
The years have left them looking older though they may hide their natural gray
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'Tis said those past their fiftieth birthday their better days have seen
Perhaps we then must live on borrowed time is what they really mean
Since I was a young fellow many Seasons have come and gone
And many I've known now with the departed though life of course goes on.
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Yesterday it was twenty degrees or so
And this morning it feels cold enough to snow
But Melbourne weather known to be that way
The place you get four Seasons in one day.
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The Seasons pass quickly and time ticks on fast
And eventually death does come to all at last
Yes for all of us there is this last night and day
When the Reaper of lives will come reaping our way
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The Seasons to our lives do come and do go
And eventually time becomes everyone's foe
And the longer you live the sooner you will die
A mere fact of life and fact never lie
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It has been so many Seasons since i see Finnow in flood of brown
Flowing bank high in the old fields just out of Millstreet Town
Or seen the hawthorns quite resplendent cloaked in their white blooms of the May
And the cattle on nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day
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That it seems beneath the dignity of the literary critics to criticize one like me my rhymes have to be rough
And this has me to feeling that as a rhymer i am not good enough
And since lack of recognition is not healthy for one's self esteem
I must try my best to improve as a rhymer it does seem
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On looking back the Seasons i realize how quickly time has gone
And the clock on my life ever keeps ticking on
Some four decades ago i was in my life's prime
And now in my late sixties i am running out of time
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Of Seasons long gone and of the what used to be
We only have in us an aging memory
At the stroke of midnight the past will be today
And the clock on our lives does keep ticking away
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The seasons to our lives do come and do go
And eventually time becomes everyone's foe
Three score and ten years the average human life span
And a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
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Many Seasons ago when in my life's prime
I became addicted to the penning of rhyme
For some thirty eight years i have been a rhyming buff
And one might say i have written a whole heap of stuff
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Like the passing of nature's seasons to life we come to and from go
And the days and weeks go quickly and time becomes our foe
It does not seem that long ago when i was in my prime
But nowadays i am walking slower and showing the wear of time
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Three score and ten years the average human life span
On average a few more years for a woman than for a man
Our Seasons pass quickly until our last Fall
In reality seventy years does not seem long at all
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The Seasons to our lives do come and do go
Till the passing of time becomes everyone's foe
Six decades and four years my life thus far span
But in time it does not seem that long since i was a young man
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For each of us a last night as well as a last day
And the seconds and the minutes of our lives do tick away
From life we have been learning even before we learned to crawl
But the more we know the less we know we know seems to apply to all
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I've not seen them for many Seasons and I may not see them never more
From the siblings that I grew up with I do live on a distant shore
In life they have gone on their own ways and their life's journeys are different to mine
But on the pathway of our life's journey the sun it does not always shine
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The Seasons to our lives do come and do go
Live as happy as you can be life is too short for woe
On how long one does live is not for one to say
Today in this World may be your last day
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We have seen many Seasons since I was a young lad
But do not judge me harshly though you think my rhymes are bad
Since I'm just an old poetaster one from a distant shore
A migrant in this Country just that and nothing more.
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