Francis Duggan Poems

There's a prophesy that the meek the Earth will inherit
Though I don't think I will live to see that day
At least 'twould seem it is a long time in coming
And now from us it seems further away
...

Some of us become victims of our addictions we can become addictive one might say
And I'm not one who should reflect on the faults of others since I'm addicted too in my own way
I am a slave to the penning of doggerel and I yield to my addiction every day
Perhaps professional help I am in need of but for such help I could not afford to pay.
...

What does it really matter if I'm never more to see
The beautiful male bullfinch upon a sunlit tree
When the wildering flowers are blooming in lush green fields far away
And the hawthorn trees are covered in their white blossoms of the May.
...

On Lake Hamilton lengthwise from shore to shore
On a kilometre of water counted two hundred swans or more
In early May in the Fall of the year
Perhaps to moult the reason they are here?
...

Financially have you ever been on the floor though not yet counted out
And of your worth as a person many are in doubt
But like the champion boxer you will rise from the floor
And go back to battle and fight on some more.
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Here I'll never even know local renown
I will always be a stranger in this Town
Some of the locals body language tell me what their tongues don't say
He is not one of us he is from far away.
...

The wanderlust was in her soul the far off hills were green
She has been in London, Paris, Rome and New York she has seen
She miss the hills of Archies Creek in Summer they look brown
And she'll return for to stay in old Wonthaggi Town.
...

The rain has fallen steadily through the morning to swell the creek and fill the roadside drain
And on the blackwood tree the white backed magpie is singing his kind always sings in wind and rain
This dry countryside needs rain as much as we need to drink water but the difference between Mother Earth and you and I
Is that after rain the earth again starts living but we are dead forever when we die,
...

In Mt Eccles surrounded by wooded volcanic cliffs is green old Lake Surprise
That echo to the wood duck calls and the dusky moorhen cries
Along the cliffs above the lake gray gum and blackwood grow
From the look out deck the view is breath taking Nature's beauty is on show.
...

On the last time I saw old Ballydaly the weather it was cold enough to snow
And the river from Kippagh along by Feirm bank high on down towards Annagloor did flow
It was an overcast November morning and on a naked birch a lone gray crow
Was cawing his voice echoed in the silence of an empty landscape all of those years ago.
...