Francis Duggan Poems

Why do it always have to be this way
I don't like him or her they don't like me
I get involved in the mind games people play
And my own weaknessess i fail to see.
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I've not seen many cormorants today
Just four or five on rocks close to the shore
Whilst on other days i've seen large flocks of them
Twenty to thirty and sometimes even more.
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The sun goes down beyond the western hill
And the sea this evening seldom so tranquil
And i feel peace it quietly comes to me
On silent wings across the silent sea.
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From dawn to dark they pipe the same old song
Sounds very much like curra currawong
Day in day out their music still the same
And humans call them currawong by name.
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Django Reinhardt was born in Belgium as the record of his life show
At Liberchies of gipsy parents over ninety years ago
And he died in France at Fontainebleau in nineteen fifty three in May
From the most humble of beginnings he had gone a long long way.
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From Barraduff the mountain road leads to the Paps of Shrone
Through a mountainy land of famous bards some of the finest known
And left along the narrow road that leads to Rathmore Town
And the old roads of Sliabh Luachra keep winding up and down
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Out of writing verse so few have made a fortune
And many see it as a waste of time
And what mother now would wish her son to be born with
The once great gift the gift of writing rhyme.
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I loved you but you dumped me i remember
You said that you would never be my wife
And though i pined and i felt broken hearted
What choice had i but get on with my life? .
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You feel like one lost in a deep dark tunnel
And you call for help and in the darkness grope
For a way out of the blackness that engulf you
And the only thing that gives you strength is hope.
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The yellow tailed black cockatoos called in the darkening skies
And rain was gently falling as we bade our last goodbyes
The bus took us out the dirt road out towards departure pier
Good bye to you French Island we may return next year.
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