Francis Duggan Poem by Joe Hughes

He'll say he's just not a poet at all.
He puts himself down from the start.
But I've seen the depth of his poetic wealth,
Though he says he's a scribbler at heart!

There is just not one theme to his work
For he writes of townships, greatest hills.
He is there at the dawn, till the night's truly gone,
Just when all is so peaceful, so still.

He writes of the places, the people he's known,
Deep with nature he clearly is one.
There's an edge to his thoughts, even humour of sorts -
Of Australia he's clearly a son!

He often writes in extended long lines,
With no comma, no full stop nor dash.
This is genius I guess, with no words in excess -
He's a modern day, cool Ogden Nash.

With our feathered friends clearly he's close.
In characters with stories so immersed.
He knows hills and hedgerows, many chirpers, some crows.
He even writes of emotions reversed.

There is modesty here in abundance.
He plays down his skill through his verse.
His poems are a tome, he is clearly at home
With the world - Yes! The whole universe!

He does not suffer fools at all gladly.
He is forthright, outspoken, even kind.
There is pathos, respect, he can be circumspect
But to cruelty he just is not blind.

He'll say he's just not a poet at all.
Francis Duggan says that money he'll shun,
But be that as it may, in my favourites he'll stay
For he's clearly a warm, gifted one!