Francis Duggan Beauty Poems

They know little of life and even less of Nature though they have what matters most
And that is heaps of money something worthy of a boast
For money speaks every language as some are known to say
That's how it is and will remain in the World of today.
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To tell her she is beautiful is not that hard to say
And 'twill only make her feel good about herself and help to make her day
She may even blush a little and say that's not really true
But thank you for the compliment it is so sweet of you.
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Were I a poet I'd write of Nature's beauty around me
The songs of the birds on bush, hedge and tree
The flowers of the garden so lovely to see
The beauty of Nature to look at is free.
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I cannot lay claim to the title of poet
Or I'll never be worthy of literary note
But the beauty of Nature I greatly admire
And of singing her praises I never do tire
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I wish I could sing of the beauty I see
The beauty of Nature that's all around me
In the warmth of November of the Southern Spring
The blackbird and magpie and shrike thrush do sing.
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The beauty of Nature is all around me
The wattlebirds call on the blossoming tree
The kangaroos in the bright sunshine of day
Amongst the rank rushes are hidden away
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The men with guns and dogs on sunday are hunting sambar deer
And the loud cracks of their rifles on the high woodlands I hear
And then the hills are silent and the only living sound
Is the magpie piping on stringybark upon the higher ground.
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The beauty of Nature is such a splendid thing
In the sunlit Parkland the birds chirp and sing
Young magpies are piping on the sheoak trees
And there is a gentle freshness in the mild Summer breeze.
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Three decades back so pretty and lovely to behold
The beauty of the seventies she now is looking old
Though she dyes her hair brown and wears makeup to cloak her wrinkles and gray
It does seem rather obvious she has known a better day.
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A lovely Spring day the wildborn birds are singing and the warm sun shining in the clear blue sky
And white butterflies flitting in the flowering gardens and the dark winged swallows chirping as they fly
The last week of the southern November and the southern Summer just a week away
The temperatures in the low to the mid twenties this surely does rate as a perfect day,
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I often do think of the beauty i have seen
When bluebells bloomed on the ditch of the bohreen
And hawthorns were cloaked in their white blossoms of May
In that old green Country from here far away
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I've written so much about Nature yet of Nature so little I do know
Yet I cannot help but sing her praises and my wonder of her only grow
The beauty that she does create we do not pay to see
And I feel we do belong to her though with that many may not agree
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The beauty of Nature is all around me
And her sights and her sounds pleasant to hear and see
Wildflowers bloom in the park and on a wattle tree
A magpie is piping his flute like melody
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In Nature there's beauty for all to be seen
Her Autumns of brown and her Springs of green
Her Summers of sunshine and beautiful flowers
And her snow capped hills of Winter and her wind driven showers
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Her wild birds are chirping on bush and on tree
The beauty in Nature so lovely to hear and to see
It is a rare beauty that will never die
But is mortality for Humankind based on a lie
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Once a place of natural beauty for all to be enjoyed
Due to the financial greed of developers the park has been destroyed
Most of the trees shelter for the ringtail and brush tail possums have been cut away
It is an ugly sight that I do gaze upon today.
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Though your physical beauty may take you quite far
That does not tell us of the person you are
True beauty is too deep for eyes for to find
'Tis hidden away in the caves of the mind
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The more I learn of her the less of her I know I do know
And my wonder of her only does seem to grow
The one the artists and writers celebrate
Such marvellous beauty that she does create
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The seemingly immortal words of Yeats poem 'A Terrible Beauty Is Born'
The classic poetry anthologies of the English speaking World does adorn
When he wrote of the Irish Martyrs of the Easter Rising of nineteen sixteen
And of the great beauty in the deaths of brave young men he had seen
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Even in the depths of Winter great beauty to see
When pink flowers adorn the rhododendron tree
On all Seasons Nature has beauty to share
A beauty one might say that is beyond compare
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Her beauty is everywhere all around me
And every day in Nature new wonders to see
The Goddess of land and the Goddess of sea
The one known immortal would you not agree?
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Such beauty that one does not pay for to see
A beautiful goldfinch on a blackwood tree
So lovely to look at and lovely to hear
The beauty of Nature is everywhere near.
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Bess O Brice from Black Oak Lane
She was lovely in her prime
But a mental break down has left it's stain
And she has aged before her time.
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The beauty of Nature is all around me
White flowers in clusters in bloom on the pittosporum tree
And the yellow capeweed in bloom in the prime of the Spring
And on bush and tree nesting birds whistle and sing
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I marvel at the beauty all around me
The beauty in Nature every day I see
The euroyp bush in her daisies of gold
A thing of great beauty for one to behold
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The young man and woman of the future the boy and girl of today
And the aged must depart for the young to make way
And death is for all as for you and for I
And the longer we live the sooner we will die
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Such beauty in Nature there is for to see
The beauty that is everywhere around me
Mid November the summer seventeen days away
The birds chirp and whistle on this warm Spring day
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So nice for to hear the birds whistle and sing
The park lush and green wears it's flowers of the Spring
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
How good to be living on such a nice day
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The beauty we do not have to pay for to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
The beauty in Nature we see every day
The World's greatest beauty it does seem fair to say
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Though beauty in the eyes of the beholder or so we are told
Few can see any beauty in a face that is old
But from living experience one becomes more wise
Which after all does come at no big surprise
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True beauty from us is never far away
The beauty of Nature we see every day
The beauty the poets and artists celebrate
That only Nature has the power to create
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Each day things of beauty I'm privileged to see
The beauty of Nature is all around me
The gray butcherbird pipes on the wattle tree
His song is embedded in my memory.
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The black and white mudlarks are calling pee wee
And the wattlebird on the callistemon tree
Into the red flowers sticks his slender bill
For to extract nectar from them in the park by the hill
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Her shoulder length hair was as dark as the wing of a crow
And her eyes were as blue as a November sloe
Never spoke at length to her just a passing hello
And i last laid eyes on her two decades ago.
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The beauty of Nature in the prime of the Spring
And the beautiful song that the goldfinches sing
You hear them once and you will know them again
Their twittering notes in your memory remain,
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A woman of beauty she stands out in a crowd
When she walks down the street the wolf whistles are loud
But she walks on pretending she does not hear
There's lots of false courage in the drink known as beer.
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In the wooded hills of South Gippsland a place that lives up to it's name
Mt beauty alone for it's beauty is surely entitled to fame
Where the beautiful song of the shrike thrush it floats in the cool mountain breeze
And the nectar eating honeyeaters, lories and rosellas are chirping on the blossoming trees.
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The moorhens are out swimming with their young brood
Amongst the water lilies searching for food
And on a weeping willow on the banks of the lake
A sweet voice of Nature one cannot mistake
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The moon it is stealing through the starry sky
And in old Mt Beauty the boobook owl cry
The beautiful place with the beautiful name
Mt Beauty and beauty are one of the same
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I do live far south of Hibernia's shore
And from Clara the old hill above Claramore
But in my flights of fancy I'm walking again
In the Claraghatlea fields in the wind and the rain
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The beauty of Nature is all around me
And every day in Nature such wonders to see
Within view of land above the sea the gannets fly
For their small marine prey they plunge down from the sky.
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The sheer power and beauty of Nature is something to fear and admire
The writers and artists to write of and sketch her she never does fail to inspire
And yet many of us does take her for granted though off of our Earth Mother we live
We only seem for to take from her and back to her little does give
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Where is she now the last rose of the Summer?
Her petals by the tree that bore her lay
She withered in the first frost of the Autumn
And her great beauty perished in a day.
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A walk in the garden of Nature and for it such a beautiful day
And the white backed magpie is fluting on a high branch of an old mountain gray
The scrub wrens in the undergrowth chirping their nest must be somewhere nearby
On this warm morning in September with the sun shining in the clear sky.
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Her eyes like her skin shade a nuggety brown
And she's not a local this not her Hometown
And her hair straight and dark as the wing of a crow
And beauty goes with her where ever she go.
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Much about him has been written of his life and acts of shame
And for all the worst of reasons his has become a World known name
He shot to death thirty five people maimed and injured many more
And in half an hour of brutal hatred he left grief and pain and gore.
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In mini wood just out of Millstreet Town
The tree creepers were running up and down
The tree trunks as they searched for insect prey
Their habits never changed from day to day.
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When I want to see beauty I need not travel far
Not even for a short drive in a car
Outside my window on flowering callistemon tree
A natural thing of beauty there to see.
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When I was a school girl in Bayswater
The nearest house was a quarter of a mile away
Around our home were farms, gums and acacias
But Bayswater is a concrete place today.
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A cool breeze and warm sunshine I love these days of Spring
And in park at Mermaid Waters the wild birds chirp and sing
And the young noisy miner as big as mother now
But still he calls to her for food upon the sunlit bough.
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