Francis Duggan Poems

Met sisters Claire and Collette Hickey from West end of Millstreet Town
In Victoria's biggest city where the sun bake white skin brown
Many miles from Cork and Millstreet where for long years they did dwell
Here in Clifton Hill in Melbourne at the Normandy Hotel.
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He stood there by a lonely hill
Listening to the song birds trill,
The tears were streaming down the face
Of this man they nicknamed 'Lonely Case'.
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From the mistakes of the past we have not learned and war again it is being waged today
And in any war there never is a winner and for every war there is some price to pay
And everyone who dies in war is one too many whether it be soldier or civilian is the one to fall
It should not matter all people are equal and a soldier too is human after all.
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Just a group I've been a part of for over three months going on four
And when we part we part forever I may see them never more
And though I never bonded to them I'll remember just the same
When the memories flash back to me at the mention of a name.
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We hear a lot of late about Bill Clinton
Of his infedilities to Hillary his wife
And though scandals of the famous sell newspapers
There are far more important things in life.
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Some of them may be dead for years their bones in black earth lay
But the elders of my childhood years with me still seem to stay
I fancy they are living still I see them every day
And from the homes they once lived in they never went away.
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If you would like some lessons at playing the didgeridoo
Ring Ray Mow from the Yarra Ranges he is one of the few
Who runs didgeridoo classes he is good at what he do
It is out of his successes that his reputation grew.
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He worked for Tom Mulcahy and the Duggan brothers
And he loved working and he worked hard for every pay
But a crippling stroke forced him to retire early
And robust health with him just did not stay.
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She was the Rose of Gneeveguila Village when I was young so many years ago
With brown hair shiny as October chestnut and bue eyes bluer than the ripened sloe
And winning smile she never failed to win you there was a cheery warmth in her hello
And though many years have passed since I last saw her the memories live of one I used to know.
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She said you may not be a poet but your songs might suit a balladeer
To sing in lounge room of a pub whilst drinkers enjoy their beer
For your's is fairly earthy stuff and not hard to understand
But like I say a high place in literature you never will command.
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