Francis Duggan Poems

It is not my right to pass judgement on others on that others for themselves can speak
Those who look for the flaws in others are in their own ways rather weak
Live and let live and be happy to all people ought to apply
Yet not all people can mind their own business such a practice too hard for them to try
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The magpies and pee wees and blackbirds in the parkland whistle and sing
And gray shrike thrush can be heard fluting in Castlemaine Town in the spring
And the Town gardens looking much greener and lusher after recent rain
And breeding frogs in the night singing in the pond and water filled drain
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Dr Sheila Becker is a famous person born and raised near Millstreet Town
From Claraghatlea in view of Clara she began her journey to renown
She became a Nursing Sister in England and a Doctor in the U S A
And nowadays a famous Author she's a winner all the way
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In most human behavior a pattern you will find
The person who is cruel to animals can be cruel to human kind
Between what is cruel and not cruel is not hard to define
And to what is inappropriate behavior some like to cross the line
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Memories of happy times and memories of woe
Seem to go with us to where-ever we go
And memories of what was are ours to retain
That is all of the past with us that does remain
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Fifty five years ago as a young boy
Learning of the ways of wild things i used to enjoy
And though i am older and wrinkled and gray
Nature it still does amaze me today
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A place that does not change much from week to week
The brown and dry countryside of Barker's Creek
A place mostly of hobby farms few people live there
The hobby farmers have their main residence elsewhere
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A place that does not change much from week to week
The brown and dry countryside of Barker's Creek
A place mostly of hobby farms few people live there
The hobby farmers have their main residence elsewhere
...

A place that does not change much from week to week
The brown and dry countryside of Barker's Creek
A place mostly of hobby farms few people live there
The hobby farmers have their main residence elsewhere
...

Were i born a poet of Nature i would write
A poem for others to read and enjoy and recite
I would write of the blackbird in spring with the bright orange bill
That sings on the leafy tree by the rippling rill
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