Francis Duggan Poems

It is mostly of ourselves and friends and family good things we ever speak
But good does seldom grow to great and the flesh is always weak
We live in tribes and small family groups like our distant cousin the chimpanzee
And outside of our tribe we do seem lost that is how it seems to me
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In life there is always a challenge to face
And so hard to accept disappointment with grace
And though all hope of success from you may be gone
Your great love of life helps you for to live on
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I know this fellow Robert Vanderhope
With life's many challenges one who does readily cope
In his early seventies a long term friend of Janice my good wife
One can say of him that he does lead a varied life
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In a neighbor's house a party going to where i live quite near
The music and the laughter loud on the eve of the New Year
For a group of not more than twenty they do seem rather loud
It is true a small gathering with alcohol involved becomes as noisy as a big crowd
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In economic hard times when governments go for the cutback
It is always services to the most disadvantaged come under attack
In Duhallow it is rumored that the hospitals in Kanturk and Millstreet Town
May well become victims of a government close down
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He does not wish to be famous or even widely known
But he'd like a place to live in that he would call his own
He sleeps in a disused factory a cold concrete floor for his bed
But he is not bereft of hope of better times of him ahead
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As he drove home from work at twilight of the day
Any heed to news of widespread flooding on his car radio he did not pay
The river in brown flood flowed like an inland tide
And flooded the flat ground for miles on either side
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My physical prime to the forever gone
But that does not matter i want to live on
Yes i want to live on for as long as i can
And die without pain as a very old man
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Today is so warm 42 degrees
It is not even cool in the shade of the trees
The warm air full of the buzzing of flies, wasps and bees
And great warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze
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An ordinary rhymer i have written a lot
But it bothers me none if i will be remembered or not
The rhymes come to me on notepaper i pen them down
Though without hope of financial reward or renown
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