Francis Duggan Poems

A cruel word once spoken is hard to take back
For nothing hurts worse than a verbal attack
The words meant to hurt can be hard to forgive
But with toxic people we must learn to live
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You are feeling down and your luck has run out
And you feel unworthy and haunted by self doubt
And big brother's disciples are running you down
And spreading their gossip of you in the town
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Few as good as young Randy at puffing on a joint
And he is one who always has his own point
Of view which he holds on about everything
Though of his praises you won't hear many others sing.
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The grey shrike thrush pipes in the wood over there
And as a songster of Nature few with him compare
His music is carrying in the evening breeze
That soughs in the leaves of the young and old trees
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High above the brown paddock on a calm and windless day
The huge dark brown bird with wedge tail is eyeing the landscape for prey
He kills living creatures and scavenges on the dead
The great wedge tailed eagle Aussie born and bred.
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It may not be in your Homeland that you will rest in peace
Not every Greek person is resting in Greece
Amongst Nature's bosom we are destined for to lay
From what is inevitable we cannot get away,
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My heroes or heroines aggression they never do show
For their acts of kindness them we only know
For to help others out they go out of their way
They are the unsung of the World of today
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I may live far south of Hibernia's shore
And of the old high fields of green Claramore
But in my flights of fancy i hear the birds sing
On their nesting time in the prime of the Spring.
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He is grieving for his terrier old Peter
For thirteen years his dog his truest friend
He bought him at the pet shop when his wife Mariah passed on
But every life has to come to an end.
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The old poets and poetesses they were master wordsmiths
Though literary styles have changed much since their time
For all others they are a hard act to follow
Since they mastered the art of penning perfect rhyme.
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