Francis Duggan July Poems

The currawongs on the gums piping and dark rain clouds darken the sky
And a gray fog cloaks the wooded hillside on this Winter's day in July
And a lone raven caws on the drenched wattle and every where looks rather gray
Yet Spring with each day is approaching and towards the hills she wings her way.
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The sun lights up the high paddocks nearby
And there is a stillness in the evening sky
Close to mid Winter yet it seems like Spring
Yet magpie only bird that I hear sing.
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The fastest dog in Millstreet when I was a young boy
Was owned and bred by Maurice Connors his name was Black July
Trained by Paddy O Keeffe at Dooneen a leading trainer then
In the Kennedy cup at Limerick he had a famous win.
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The wattle trees a blaze of yellow flowers
But it has rained all morning till mid day
The Sherbrooke woods are shrouded in gray fog
And Spring seem far so very far away.
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The breeding frogs in the shallow pools are croaking
But they fall silent as near you walk by
Elusive creatures their secrets of survival
Is that they are small and hard to see and shy.
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The sun behind gray clouds is hidden away
On a typical windy and showery mid Winter's day
But a gray shrike thrush is whistling in the woodland nearby
A voice that one does not often hear in July
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Behind the gray clouds the sun hidden away
But the magpies are singing in Koroit today
Though nearing mid Winter in early July
For the past few days the weather has been pleasant and dry
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The frogs in the pond singing in the moonlight
As the rain drizzles down on a wintery night
And the cry of a fox in the paddock nearby
On the second last evening of the southern July
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In Warrnambool a wild and wet wintery day
The sun behind gray clouds is hidden away
But it is not unusual to have some wet days in July
Though the southern Winter weather most cool to dry
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The air it is warm without the least sign of chill
As i stand by the steel cross on old Clara Hill
As entranced by the beauty on i am gazing down
On the fields and houses of Millstreet Town
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The sun shining bright in the blue and gray sky
But there is little warmth in the sun of July
Yet in the depths of the Winter of the southern year
The warbling of the magpies so pleasant to hear
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The sun behind the gray clouds is hidden away
It is breezy and cold in Port Fairy today
The hunger of the Season in the silver gulls cry
In the depths of the Winter in the southern July
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I retain the mental images of evenings in July
When the brown larks above Clara Mountain did fly
Fading musical specks in the gray of the sky
I only have memories of Summers gone by
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In memory i can scent the sweetness of hay
From old sunlit meadows from here far away
And young birds are chirping on the leafy trees
On a nice day in July of around twenty degrees
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The dark barn swallows do chirp as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunlit sky
Above the old fields of Duhallow in July
Where it has not rained for a week the weather warm and dry
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Above a rushy meadow in early July
The little mottled brown skylark does sing as he fly
A musical speck in the blue and gray sky
Of human kind one who will always be shy
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In fancy it comes wafting to me in the breeze the sweet scent of hay
In the fields by the mountains from here far away
When the little brown lark is singing as he fly
A musical speck in the gray of the sky
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Low clouds above Mt Rouse it is foggy and gray
It is wintry weather in Penshurst today
With the chill of July in the freshening breeze
And an air temperature high of a cool seven degrees
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The sun intermittently shines in the sky blue and gray
But in Port Fairy it is cold, wet and windy today
Yesterday for Winter it was warm and dry
The weather changes quickly in the southern July
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Today above the rushy fields where the waterways meet
In the green countryside by the Town of Millstreet
A musical speck in the gray of the sky
The mottled brown skylark sings as upwards he does fly
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I have loved Mother Nature since i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And though my wonder of her it only does grow
So little about her i can claim for to know
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In the blue sunlit sky just a few clouds of gray
And the sweet scent of grass mowed for silage or hay
And the swallows chirp in pursuit of flying insects as they do every day
Above the old fields in July far away
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The overcast sky looking gloomy and gray
But the temperature pleasant for a mid Winter's day
A high for the day of sixteen degrees
And only the slightest of chill in the breeze
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I can visualize the sweet scent of hay
Under a blue sunny sky with just a few clouds of gray
A gentle freshening breeze on a nice summer's day
In July by the mountains from here far away
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The yellow eyed currawongs the dark birds of rain
They call out karrawang again and again
And rain clouds are gathering in the gray sky
In the depths of winter in Mt Dandy in july
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The winds of July do blow with a wintry chill
Across the coastal lands and above Tower Hill
And soughs in the bushes and soughs in the trees
A forecast high for the day of just thirteen degrees
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On the trees on the volcanic cliffs of Mt Eccles above Lake Surprise
Pied currawong the dark birds with yellow eyes
Are singing they often do sing before rain
Their song from once heard you'll recognize again
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The rumble of thunder in the darkened sky
And the barn owl utters it's familiar shrill cry
As above the town park to the tall trees nearby
On silent wings the nocturnal hunter does fly
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The things once near and dear to me now seems so far away
Yet in my flights of fancy i can scent the new mown hay
Where the dark winged migrant swallows are chirping as they fly
Above the sunlit meadows of Summer in July
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The sun it is hidden behind clouds of gray
And the pleasant aroma of grass mown for silage or hay
Comes wafting to me in the afternoon breeze
That rustles in the leaves of the deciduous trees
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The rain drizzling down from a sunless gray sky
On a typical Winter's day of the southern July
And yet the flute like notes are quite pleasant to hear
Of the magpie who sings every day of the year
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The sun behind gray clouds is hidden away
And the rain drizzling down on a wet wintry day
July in south west Victoria a cool and wet time of year
Yet the song of the magpie is pleasant to hear
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I only have memories of Summers long gone by
When the tiny blue whortleberries were ripe on the heather on Clara in July
The organic fruits of Nature such a tasty treat
When ripe in July quite delicious to eat
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Far inland in miles from Hibernia's shore
Above the high fields of green old Claramore
The dark barn swallows chirping as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects across the gray sky
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For July a rare sunny day
The sun peep through the clouds of gray
And the nest building magpie does sing
Five weeks from the first day of Spring.
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A full moon does silently creep it's way across the starlit sky
And the flute of the magpie I hear on this cool Winter night in July
He does not sing for the love of song he sings to defend territory
Whilst most others birds are asleep he pipes high on a wattle tree
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The dark river bird with breast as white as snow
The dipper sings where the babbling waters flow
Through the old fields where the rank rushes grow
By ditch and by dyke and many a hedgerow.
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A flat and open Country with far more brown than green
And from Country Town to Country Town few houses to be seen
Yet per kilometre Victoria is Australia's most populated State which only goes to show
How small the Nation's population is just twenty million or so,
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The magpie's voice is echoing in the moonlit Winter sky
And the weather wet though pleasant for the first week of July
And the birth of Spring draws nearer with every passing day
Across the World towards the southern shore Goddess of Spring is on her way,
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Such wild and chilly weather with heavy showers of sleety rain
That flood the spouting and the creek and the storm water drain
And the paddocks around the Powlett river seem like an inland sea
And water everywhere about as far as the eyes can see.
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Though not a mosquito or bee or wasp or fly in sight
The Magpies are piping in the Winter sunlight
A beautiful day for the time of the year
And with each passing day Spring is drawing ever near
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In the cool sun of mid Winter a gentle northern breeze
Is whispering in the parkland on the gum and wattle trees
The leaves are quietly stirring as the branches gently sway
And the sparrows are chirping on a pleasant Winter's day.
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The grey roos sheltering beneath the pine trees it is a wet and a wintery Winter's day
Yet in the rain the magpie he is piping on a high branch of a tall mountain gray
And yet the weather is not cold or chilly it does not seem a bad start to July
The Winter sun by the rain is hidden and overcast looking the morning sky
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One might have thought that time would heal and hatred would subside
But politics, religion and so called patriotism the things that divide
And in Northern Ireland trouble once more brewing and old hatreds live on
And those for peace are left to rue the latest chance for peace near gone.
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The pleasant natural aroma of meadows mown for silage or hay
Come wafting to my memory from places far away
And the sun at intervals shines through the gray clouds of the sky
And cattle in lush fields chew their cuds at ease in the warmth of July
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The mighty river swelled by recent downpour flows through the flat gray country near the sea
It crawls onward to meet and join saltwater far from it's birthplace in the high country
A winter sun is shining in the clear sky a pleasant enough day for time of year
And two miles off the rumblings of the surf waves in the silence of the evening one can hear.
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