Francis Duggan Poems

He did spend a few years in old Millstreet Town
But no memorial there to honour his renown
Though in Gaelic Ireland seen as a literary figure of note
And rated by Gaelic literary experts as a major poet.
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Since you look at most others in a negative way
Why should it matter to me what to others of me you say
Unless you defame me by spreading of lies
As you do make up stories and you're not known to be wise
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You say I am hell bound well that suits me fine
Save your own soul mister you cannot save mine
You waffle on to me of the judgement day
If this be so for my own sins I must pay,
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I cannot boast of any achievements far south of Hibernia's shore
Far south of Millstreet and Ballydaly and the roadway to Rathmore
Only getting old and grayer little else from life to show
I'm not better off or wiser than I was decades ago.
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As a young man as a writer of success I did daydream
And I sang of the white breasted dipper who used to sing in the stream
That by the grove near my old home to the river did flow
When youth and time was on my side some three decades ago.
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For many so many life is Earthly hell
But everyone does have a story to tell
Of their life journeys and of their dreams of fame
And any two stories not exactly the same
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Their voices remain with me from places far away
And in my flights of fancy I hear them sing today
The blackbird and the robin the throstle and the wren
The one with a loud song for a tiny bird sang in the furzy glen
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The white backed magpie singing in the stillness of the night
In the park his flute is echoing in the October moonlight
A marvellous feathered songster his notes melodious and clear
He always sings his finest in the Springtime of the year
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He was a master wordsmith the poet Walter De La Mare
One of the finest of his time few with him to compare
His poems are quite distinctive and always worth a read
His writings have outlived him a rare achievement indeed
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His own perceived successes he only celebrate
And to others he just cannot seem to relate
And his three favourite words are I, myself and me
The one who was born without empathy
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