Francis Duggan Poems

You are three years old Fiona at beginning of life's way
And I hope you had a good party and a wonderful birthday
Just a three year little lady and yet too young to know
That life's pathway isn't rosy thorns on life's pathway grow.
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Beth the daughter of the late artist Jack now seeking her own fame
And in the World of Literature she builds herself a name
She writes poems and stories and articles for magazine
And she's becoming well known in the Gippsland literary scene.
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Had I a Fairy Godmother and if she came to me
And said I'll grant to you two favours what might those favours be?
I'd ask that I'd feel happy and live my life carefree
And my second wish a small cottage that overlook the sea.
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The more I learn about Nature the less I realize I know
About how creatures live in wild state, about how plants and grasses grow
About how flowers close in the evening and open to the morning light
We learn every day from Nature and we learn from what others write.
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I am not a poet I never said I was I just pen doggerel
The sort of stuff that few bother to read and I cannot hope to sell
I've been rhyming for many years and though my better days long gone
Until the Reaper claims the life from me I will keep penning on
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No such a thing as God's chosen people if there is a God he's for all
For a God than us would be far greater in our judgements we are so small
God would judge everyone as an equal no matter the Race or the name
The believers or the non believers a true God would treat as the same.
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In a grove nearby a blackbird is singing his pleasant music melodious and clear
In his backyard in the Spring sunshine Novak a familiar voice is happy to hear
As a young person near the City of Subotica on evenings in the Northern Spring
The yellow billed male blackbirds in the sunshine in groves and on hedgerows did sing
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The more that I learn about Nature the less of her I know that I know
And the more that I learn of Nature the more my wonder of her does grow
One can only live in awe of her wonders she does seem amazing to me
Scarce a day goes by that in Nature a new wonder one does not see
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Old enough to hold a car and truck licence and old enough to vote
And old enough to have a gun licence and operate a small fishing boat
And old enough to recognize an apple from a quince
Yet not old enough to be blessed with much sense
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He is a poetry expert at least he feels that way
And on what others write which is their business he likes to have his say
The chance to offend people he choose to dislike but does not know he never fails to miss
Just one more arrogant ignoramus to him ignorance is bliss
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