Francis Duggan Poems

So many of my boyhood mentors to the Reaper have gone
But life in Duhallow as usual goes on
And people like the Seasons they come and they go
And old Araglen on to the Blackwater flow.
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We returned the Government to power since we are doing okay
We canvassed for and voted for them on the Election Day
With them in power we genuinely feel our future is more secure
Us middle class are not to blame for the increasing poor.
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'Tis said by some that poets are born and poets cannot be made
Whilst others say that anyone can learn the wordsmith trade
And good poets come and good poets go but their words will live on
And their poems will be read and loved long after they are gone.
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I know one in his early forties he says I'm from The Land of the Free
But nothing else I know about him or what might be his Nationality
Since he speaks with a cosmopolitan accent to any Land he might belong
I could guess what Country he comes from but then my guess may well be wrong.
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John Coleman is a healer he hails from Dublin Town
And in The Dandenong Ranges of Victoria he has earned his renown
For helping unhealthy people to a better state of health
His motto a good constitution better to you than wealth.
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Overlooking Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra and overlooking Millstreet Town
How often in my younger years I remember I often climbed to Clara's Cross and ran all the way down
Through the high fields of Claramore and Claraghatlea but back then I was in my prime
And I too have grown that much slower my master is old father time.
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Some people have this thing about all migrants what brought them to this Land in the first place
Though they themselves too descended from migrants their forebearers were of a migrant race
Their forebearers dispossessed the Native People their history they do not know or understand
They don't seem to realize that they have strong ties to another race and to another Land.
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As near as you'll find to an Earthly Utopia is Sandy Point the Village by the sea
Where even in the very depths of Winter the magpie flutes upon a coastal tree
And 12 to 20 degrees the temperature from May to September and Spring and Summer warmer by at least ten degrees
And the warm day grow cooler in the evening and birds pipe in the freshening sea breeze.
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He fell eight months short of celebrating his one hundredth birthday Max Schmeling the German boxing great
It was his dream to celebrate a century of living but the reaper for the old champ refused to wait
More than a boxing champion he was a true humanitarian and as the great man himself had been known to say
I'd rather be remembered as a decent human being than as a World Champion any day.
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How come George Sims and George Crabbe are not more famous there is a naturalness about their rhyme
They are amongst the literary forgotten they were not even famous in their time
And could it be they wrote for the poor only and of the poor
not many wish to read
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