Francis Duggan Poems

Poetasters are many and poets are few
One might say to that tell us something that's new
Out of millions a small per-centage make the grade
But every writer is needed in the Wordsmith Trade
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Memories of a childhood Christmas for a lifetime we enjoy
And I often recall Christmas as a child in Lisnaboy
Santa left his bag of presents by the porch door in the moonlight
When the air was damp and frosty on the eve of Christmas Night
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A brown to green old countryside out there
Quite similar one would not see anywhere
Cattle and sheep in fenced paddocks flat and wide
Where once the Dreamtime people did reside
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Their rough sort of song one could never mistake
You hear them all day to nightfall from daybreak
Their ancestors brought to Australia from places far away
And to millions of them Melbourne is home today
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Of old fashioned wisdom I stand in defence
Old sayings to me do make a whole pile of sense
Old pearls of wisdom that have been passed down
From the very wise deceased elders of the town
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For the crimes of the father the son is made to pay
That is how it is it's always been this way
Many judged on the records of their parents or their postal address
The judgemental people are hard to impress,
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Though I am one who to a God does not pray
That you believe in a God and on an afterlife with me okay
We all look at things one might say differently
What seems right to you may not be so to me
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So many poems have been written in the World this day
Many millions at least at a guess I would say
Of senryu and haiku and blank verse and rhyme
But how many of them will stand the test of time?
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He gets by with little money yet his worries are small
And him in an unhappy mood is something I can't recall
You laugh the World laughs with you he has been known to say
And he will not die of worries though he must die one day,
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An overnight frost has left the fields looking gray
In the cold and damp dawn of a December day
And only house sparrows the birds that cannot sing
Chirp on the bare trees ten weeks from the Spring
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