Francis Duggan Poems

The deceased characters of Millstreet Parish among the dead may lay
But in Duhallow around the Cork and Kerry border memories of them live today
Distinctive individuals they had ways of their own
And as characters in their own lifetimes they were loved and well known
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For one of more than three score and ten years he seems full of life's elan
And to communicate in English he tries the best he can
He bows to me when we do meet the little Asian man
His respect and manners came with him from far away Japan
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We all cannot be billionaires and we all cannot know of fame
Though most people do wish to be a celebrated name
In most things in life for one to be a winner many have to lose
Though losing is a thing that anybody does not choose
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The unknown God out there many do seem to fear
And of the God within little we ever do hear
The one who allows us to be loving and kind
Is hidden away in the caves of the mind
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It is not meant to be easy as J B Shaw did say
In life we face new challenges every day
This is how it is and it always will be
For some anyway this is how it seems to me
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On the gum trees by the lakes from here far away
The magpies are warbling in Birdsland today
And the wood duck and the black duck on the lakes with their young swimming about
In that haven for wildlife in beautiful Belgrave South
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They are the powerless people condemned by their life's destiny
And by their circumstance of birth to live in poverty
As well as lacking in financial power on election day
Few of them play any part in the electoral process in any sort of a way
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I must be lacking on insight if i can only see
The human flaws in others but not the flaws in me
But in moments of self analysis one comes to realize
That what we dislike in others in ourselves we recognize
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Five years ago successful and an admired one of the town
But things for him quite different now since financially he is down
When he declared bankruptcy his wife left him and with her took their two young daughters such is life as some do say
When in financial trouble you know who your true friends are it has always been this way
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In my flights of fancy i hear and i see
A male pink breasted chaffinch on high branch of leafy birch tree
Singing in the quiet of the evening just before sundown
In a rushy field just west of Millstreet Town
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