I Write For My Own Enjoyment This And Nothing More Poem by Francis Duggan

Of any personal successes in life i do not have any stories to tell
One of those some dismiss as a never do well
The sort of rhymes i do write for money nowadays one cannot sell
The poets write their poetry and i pen doggerel

And though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
Never a shortage of subject matter for me to rhyme about
By the beauty of Nature to rhyme i feel inspired
And of singing her praises i never grow tired

On this first day of November in the Southern Spring
The birds on the sunlit trees whistle and sing
On this bright and calm evening with just a slight breeze
And a temperature high for the day of a pleasant twenty degrees

The park resplendent in the flowers of Nature green after recent rain
With such pleasant weather how can one complain
The buzzing of flies and nectar gathering bees
And white butterflies seemingly dance around the blossoming trees

I have never referred to myself as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
I write for my own enjoyment this and nothing more
This is something you may have heard me say before.