Francis Duggan Poems

I know little of her in truth i can say
But of Nature i learn something new every day
But the more i learn of her the more i realize
That of her ways i have so much to learn and this is not any surprise
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It is said of wonders they never cease for to grow
The more you learn the less you know you know
About life and what living life is about
So lucky the one who has never known of self doubt
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The Worldwide half of the human population suppose one must forgive
If they do not seem to realize how the poorer half live
Only the compassionate of those who were never hungry or homeless would feel sympathy
For those who are living in dire poverty
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Though from where i now live they are far away
The fields of Duhallow i think of every day
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Fond memories of them to me a source of joy
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To be different from others is never a shame
How boring we would be if we all were the same
If on anything we never could disagree
How utterly boring as people we would be
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You may be a good person kind in every way
But not everyone of you has kind things to say
The flaw finders in you find a flaw or two
Passing judgement on others one of the things they like to do
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Sometimes on my flights of fancy friends of the past i do meet
On a balmy Summer evening in the old Town of Millstreet
In visualizations of the bygone the hands of time seem to stand still
It does not seem like thirty Summers since i last saw Clara Hill
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Without asking you always tell me of how marvelous you are
Of your grand home in the leafy suburb and you big new motor car
Of your lovely wife and clever children your life seems one big success
Though doubtless you have many admirers i am one not easy to impress
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That wisdom does not come with age i have come to realize
All people grow older but few do grow wise
I used to think wisdom it does come with age
But feel lucky in your lifetime if you meet with one sage
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In the mostly blue and sunny sky some cumulus of woolly looking gray
It is almost thirty degrees in Koroit Town today
The warbling of the magpies on the sunlit trees
In the Botanical Gardens is carrying in the freshening breeze
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