The Price Of Rhyme Poem by Francis Duggan

Money speaks all languages 'twould seem
Though of becoming wealthy never was my dream
Still I've nothing to show for my wasted prime
That is the price one pays for penning rhyme.

I'm not a poet as poets as we know are rare
I am just a rhymer my type everywhere
For to make up rhymes so easy for to do
Though true poets to poesy ever remain true.

Still I love Nature more than words can say
And I marvel at her beauty every day
The grey shrike thrush whistling on the wattle tree
Seems so natural and so beautiful to me.

Were I a poet of Nature I would write
Poems of great beauty for the soul's delight
The joy of dawn when birds sing on the trees
The sun and rain, the freshness of the breeze.

As I grow older wiser I do not grow
And for my years I do not have much to show
And if I could only turn back the hands of time
I would not waste my energy on rhyme