Francis Duggan Poems

I've met good people in my travels quite honest and generous and kind
But in every pack there is a joker and a villian is not hard to find
The windows to their souls are curtained and light it cannot enter in
When they cheat you out of your money they see your financial loss as their win.
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Those who condemn others for the building of Nuclear Energy Stations
Should practice themselves what they preach
What is right for them is not right for some others
Yet they themselves are like teachers without their degrees to teach.
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His three great fights with Muhammad Ali will live on in boxing history
Joe Frazier was truly a champion few heavyweights as great as he
He enjoyed his moments of glory though nothing in life seems to last
In boxing his name it will always be mentioned when they recall champions of the past.
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In Meeniyan the short billed corellas are squawking as above the Village they fly
Towards the gum trees that stand by the old creek that flows through the paddocks nearby
By their voices they cannot be mistaken them one never ought to get wrong
They squawk on the gum trees in the paddocks all through the year and all day long,
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I ran a few road races in the colours of Millstreet
But I was never much of an athlete
One could say I just took part in the race
And I always finished well out of a place.
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The gift of laughter is a rare gift it is such a wonderful thing
And laughter can create more laughter to it there is such a beautiful ring
The people who laugh seem to make friends quite easily and in numbers their friends seem to grow
But the people who take life too seriously are the people few wish to know.
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Leonardo was first to experiment in making flight equipment he knew one day that humans would fly
He visualized human operated aircraft each time that he looked at the sky
He could look far into the future to at least five centuries of time
A genius he was so creative when he was in his glorious prime.
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To want to be liked is a natural thing 'tis a strange one who would wish to be hated
But few things more arrogant 'twould seem to me as the arrogance of the self celebrated
They tell everybody of how marvellous they are they do like to sing their own praises
And that they win admirers by praising themselves the naivety of some it amazes.
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His accent is rare in this City a migrant from old Duhallow
He comes from that fertile green Countryside where the waters of Araglen flow
On it's journey to the Blackwater through old fields and by many a hedgerow
Through places made famous by long deceased writers going back many Seasons ago,
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A little of life one might say I have seen
And though many may look on me as a has been
I pay little heed to what some of me say
I only feel happy that healthwise I'm okay.
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