His Acres Of No Use To Him Today Poem by Francis Duggan

He was the bloke who had hundreds of green acres
But his acres of no use to him today
With his wife in the family grave his bones at rest forever
His son and his son's wife and their children run the farm today.

Those who knew him said he was mean with his money
And like a leech to it he used to cling
To until the Reaper in his nineties took him
Of his praises you won't hear many sing.

By his old home today the birds are singing
And the dark winged swallows above the paddocks fly
And black cattle at rest in the shade their cuds are chewing
And the sun is brightly shining in the sky.

Life it goes on as usual in the farm
That he owned and was born in and grew up as a boy
And even though by his family he is almost forgotten
The money he scrimped to save they now enjoy.