Tis Of Nature I'd Write
Were I born a poet 'tis of Nature I'd write
Poems that Nature lovers would feel happy to read and recite
Of the song of the lark singing o'er the brown hill
And the distinctive babble of the mountain rill
That scurries downhill by ditch and hedgerow
As to the great river it quickly does flow
Though many of her ways a mystery to me
In Nature there is so much beauty to see
And the voice of Nature is carrying in the breeze
In the songs of the birds on the bushes and trees
The soughing of the wind and the huge ocean waves roar
As they crash against the stony cliffs of the shore
In Nature there's so much to see and admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Of Greed And Corruption
Of greed and corruption we are all too aware
It's happening in your suburb and the big World out there
Many in high places into corporate crime
And more honorable than them in jail serving time
On the scales of justice one must cast a doubt
Big time corporate crims seldom ever caught out
Money speaks every language some are known to say
In the twenty first century it does seem that way
Of greed and corruption the whispers abound
Amongst influential people criminals to be found
To buy their way out of trouble they seldom do fail
The power of their money can keep them from jail
And of greed and corruption we hear every day
Whoever did tell us that crime does not pay?
poem by Francis Duggan
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Why Work Ourselves Hard
Hard workers are long lived that does seem a lie
For the harder you work the sooner you may die
You drive a car hard though it's engine and body is strong
It quickly wears out it does not last that long
Hard work on the ageing body does take it's toll
Relaxation is good for the muscles and the soul
A time to recover when you are feeling tired
A balance in life is the thing most desired
By sensible people who know how to relax
Too much of hard work on your health a huge tax
In a World where many are driven by greed
The more money we have the more we think we do need
Why work ourselves hard when we can live on less
The heart it lives longer without strain and stress.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Goddess Of Nature Will Be Living On
When all who live now to the reaper have gone
The Goddess of Nature will be living on
Like the Seasons the generations of people they come and they go
But Nature's own Goddess of death will never know,
When i am not here in some future Spring
The pee wee in the old Town Parkland will sing
And where wild things do live and where wildflowers abound
The Goddess of Nature she is to be found,
The stillness of death awaits you and i
But the Goddess of Nature she will never die
The beauty she creates all around us to see
And her birds chirp and whistle on shrub, bush and tree
And she has inspired writers to story and rhyme
The Goddess of Nature who does not age in time.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Why Tell Me About It
Why tell me about it when I already know
That money on bushes and trees does not grow
But having said that does it seem fair to say
That some come by their millions in the dishonest way
Money speaks every language as we are often told
And to the miser the only true god is his gold
And though I struggle financially for to get by
I too do like money that I won't deny
The gap between the haves and the have nots is growing ever wide
And millions are losing out on the social divide
And money and power are siblings 'twould seem
In that they both can do wonders for one's self esteem
Why tell me about it since I know all too well
That life without money can be Earthly Hell.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Is Wisdom Not Highly Valued
As long as to be a better person you it does inspire
'Tis good for you for to have one to admire
One who leads by good example to the higher self true
Such a person such a good role model for you
Yet I know an old bloke he is very wise
Though that none has him as a role model comes as no surprise
Since he is not famous or even well known
This quiet old fellow who lives on his own
A gray haired old fellow in his own way kind
And one wiser than him would be quite hard to find
But that none sees him as a mentor does seem sad to say
Is wisdom not highly valued in the World of today
On his knowledge of life one cannot put a price
Yet none go to him for to ask for advice.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Workings Of Human Life
The workings of human life beyond me to explain
How one person's loss is another one's gain
And why some see greed as okay does seem puzzling to me
In this Human world of inequality
The pauper, the homeless, the poor refugee
A quarter of the World's human population in dire poverty
And billions of have nots are doing it tough
Whilst the privileged minority have far more than enough
Of money and every material thing
Yet many too many their praises do sing
In an age when poverty exists everywhere
Life is so hard for many in the big World out there
In a Human world where the gap between the haves and the have nots grow wide
Far too many of a fair go in life are denied.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Black Angus Bull
Out there in the paddock I hear the black bull
He never stops bellowing when the moon is full
I wonder does the moon effect him in some strange way
For I've never heard him bellow in the light of the day
The full moon does effect people 'tis said
It has an unsettling effect in the head
And if a mental weakness in humans the full moon can find
Why not it too effect the animal kind
He has his herd of cows with him yet I do wonder why
He bellows all night when the moon's in the sky
During the hours of day he is always so quiet
And I've never heard him bellow on a dark night
But he never stops bellowing when the moon is full
Out there in the paddock the black angus bull.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Why Worry About It
Since those who care about you for you do not love you less
Why worry about it your lack of success
On the true meaning of success many would disagree
And since you speak about it please define it for me
Many successful people feel worried and depressed
And though many by their achievements are impressed
They always look serious never crack a joke
Of humor and laughter they surely seem broke
Yet many on low incomes who struggle to survive
The humor and laughter in them is alive
Yes what is success does seem hard to define
It is how you do see it your opinion is as good as mine
The one on a low income who hasn't a care
Or the sad facced and depressed multi millionaire.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Poor Lukey
Poor Lukey knows of the black dog of despair
Just thirty years of age with gray in his brown hair
A mental illness has ruined his life
To it he has lost his children who are with their mum his ex wife
In and out of mental institutions his mind in disarray
One without a future that does seem sad to say
At present in a suicidal mood life for him Earthly Hell
In a mental institution in his padded cell
One must pity poor Lukey for the hard life he endure
He is a good person in many ways pure
Of any hope of happiness he lives in despair
For people like him life does seem so unfair
The black dog of despair has entered his mind
But in his saner moments he is honest and kind.
poem by Francis Duggan
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