Francis Duggan Poems

He does look rather surly and the years have left him gray
The man with bushy eyebrows to me never says good day
One I used to acknowledge in passing a friendly hi
But my greeting met with silence he never did reply.
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The stuff I pen to paper is stuff I cannot sell
The type that literary critics dismiss as doggerel
After many years of penning stuff I remain an unknown
Yet I never steal others ideas my verses are my own
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The Norfolk Pines of Warrnambool the pride of coastal trees
Their branches seem to dance about in the freshening evening breeze
They are quite unmistakeable in their foliage of dark green
And all around the big coastal Town in numbers they are seen
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Created out of pleasure and born out of a woman's pain
Many of us live our lives just for personal gain
Call it lust for life or call it what you may
Yet the clock on our lives it keeps ticking away.
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There's so much in Nature of which of to sing
The beautiful songs of the birds is a marvellous thing,
The music in the park of the freshening breeze
As it blows in the foliage of the bushes and trees
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The teenagers most of them leave for Cities far away
And the ageing and the old in the Countrytown stay
And the Seasons they come and the Seasons they go
And the creek from the foothills to the river does flow
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He hails from a Mountain Town far north of here
Where weather-wise the Winters are windy, cold, wet and severe
But opposed to the weather the people of his Hometown at heart warm and kind
And better than them one could not hope to find
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The beauty of Nature is all around me
White flowers in clusters in bloom on the pittosporum tree
And the yellow capeweed in bloom in the prime of the Spring
And on bush and tree nesting birds whistle and sing
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Do you feel that life is your great battle as you struggle on from day to day
That lady luck she is against you that from you she looks the other way
In that you are not unusual since your type of person is not rare
There are millions and millions of people doing it hard in the big World out there
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I'm a fellow from old Claragatlea North to say otherwise would be a lie
And a fellow from old Claraghatlea North I will be 'til the day that I die
When people ask me where I come from I say from a place far away
From the old fields by old Clara mountain where I lived for many a day.
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