Francis Duggan Poems

Nearby on a low branch of a wattle tree
A little black and white bird that i often see
In the early sunlight just after daybreak
His familiar song one could never mistake.
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In the way we behave towards others we surely have the choice
And it should go without saying that it is nice to be nice
And if you are nice to others they will be nice to you
In life as we are often told we receive what we are due
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The human population increasing and bigger grows the Rural Town
And for more houses to house more people more woodland trees have been cut down
And Nature's children made to suffer the local wildlife have been dispossessed
When creatures lose the wood they lived in they become homeless and distressed
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Nice people not known for to put others down
Or be racist to anyone black, white or brown
And others of their achievements they never try to impress
We need more of their type and of the not nice less.
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The women of the World as people they are great
They give birth to the children and in so doing life create
In every woman ever born a nurturing soul you'll find
The mothers and the aunties a credit to Humankind.
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An American literary icon but what caused his death none seem to know
He was more than a man of words the great Edgar Allan Poe
He died when in his forties his best writing years of him ahead
His fame has attained greatness and he is widely read.
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Friendships we make in life often prematurely end
But 'til the day that she dies your dog will be your friend
Your dog will love you and from you never part
Your bond with your dog an affair of the heart
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I cannot write poetry so i write rhyme rhyme instead
And i know that i will be one of the forgotten dead
But why should i worry since death of life's cares will one day set me free
The same for the wealthy and famous as it is for me
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It is a confession though it may seem a tale
At a lesbian party I was the lone male
The hosts an ageing lesbian couple they invited me
To dropp in on saturday evening for sandwiches and tea.
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The years go by too quickly and old age comes too soon
For it seems like only yesterday when I heard the angelus bell at noon
Ring in the church at Millstreet and on a storm free day
It's peals heard in the quiet fields up to a mile away.
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