Francis Duggan Poems

For centuries of warring what wisdom have we to show
The war supposed to end all wars was fought nine decades ago
But by far too many have died in wars since then
And in any war even the supposed winners at a huge cost do win
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On everything and anything they do like to have their say
Opinionated people I do meet them every day
And that their's is just one opinion that point they do seem to miss
It is true with some people that ignorance is bliss
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The river widens and deepens as it nears the ocean and into a huge mass of water does grow
To look at it does hardly seem to be flowing at a snail's pace it does crawl along so slow
For dabbling and diving water birds ideal to live in with plenty fish and other water food to eat
The World is quiet by the high and brown paddocks near where the sea and the river do meet
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Of Human greed in these tough times we read of and we hear
Company C E O's not paid in thousands but in millions every year
Yet few of their type known for to help anyone in poverty
In a World where some have too much so much inequality
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Her mum wept aloud on her birth bed she still does remember that day
At the birth of June her youngest sister now in her mid forties and turning gray
At that time Anna in her sixth year was too young to understand why
Her mother seemed so very unhappy at what should have been her moment of joy.
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The poor unhappy young woman doesn't life seem so unfair
She owns her own big company her dad's a billionaire
But the love ache that is in her heart will take time to repair
Her lover he has left her he has found love elsewhere.
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In the lonely wood of Clara orange breast robin pipes his song
A warning to all Clara robins 'that this here space to me belong'
And neighbour cock robin listen and the message is understood
Of old cocky himself master at the corner of the wood.
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You told me of the peace in Northern Ireland
And for lasting peace in Ireland you did pray
But now I hear that the hard won peace is endangered
Since the terrorists won't give their bombs and guns away.
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In park in Leongatha by small lake on blackwood tree
I heard a greenfinch singing a bird once familiar to me
And there was no mistaking to whom the voice belong
A once familiar songster I knew him by his song.
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He is sixty his hair dyed brown and she is a natural blond of nineteen
And strolling hand in hand along the beach road every evening they are seen
His grandchildren as old as she is it is so true what they say
That money does speak every language and it has always been this way.
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