Wednesday, August 31, 2011

Life Has It's Crosses

He was fifteen when a drunk driver knocked him down and killed him to bring a quick end to his brief life span
His parents left to grieve for their teenager one who would never grow into a man
Their only child for them it is heart-breaking to lose their son in such a tragic way
Six months ago for him  they are still grieving he would be sixteen years old today

He never had the chance to father children or he never had the chance to take a wife
His parents do remember on his birthday their dark haired boy full of the joys of life
The memories of his death for them so painful to talk of him still brings them close to tears
The pain of loss it always will be with them though their grief will lessen with the passing years

The driver of the car who shattered their lives a twenty seven year old in his prime
For drunken driving as well as manslaughter sentenced to spend four years of prison time
Four years for such a crime does seem quite lenient though to kill another was not his intent
On his victim's parents he has passed a life sentence the loss of their son they are left to lament

Their sense of loss is with them for their lifetime and only the memories with them do remain
Of their beloved son killed by a drunken driver that they are never to see in the flesh again
Not the first or last to die in such a manner such tragedies are repeated every day
The living for their dead are left to mourn life has it's crosses it does seem this way.

Friday, August 26, 2011

Children Of Destiny

Some say how we fare in life that we do have the choice
We can reap the reward for hard work or for failure pay the price
But they overlook the thing called destiny
And that does seem their error of judgement to me
We are children of destiny though some may say that's a lie
For destiny decides how we live and we die
A local multi millionaire died in a car crash today
It was destiny decided his life should end in this way
The mantle of success he surely did don
And though his family and friends grieve his passing life without him will go on
This morning a wealthy and successful man
Little knowing his life was at the end of it's span
He is far worse off now than the poorest in the town
One who will never know of success and renown.

Often In His Flights Of Fancy

That he was raised by the wooded hills in the north countryside
To him remains and will always be such a great sense of pride
His heritage to anyone he never does deny
He says i was born and raised two hundred miles of here north as the migrant bird does fly
Where the dark birds with yellow eyes known as pied currawong
On the high trees to forecast rain sing their familiar song
Where the brown and gray kookaburras laugh loudly to greet the day
He fancy he can hear them in the high wood far away
With a wife and three young children and a house mortgage to pay
He works and lives in suburbia and perhaps there will grow old and gray
But often in his flights of fancy he can hear the shrike thrush sing
In the woodland by his old home on a balmy day in spring
The past may be gone forever but the memories remain
And in his flights of fancy the wood birds sing again.

Thursday, August 25, 2011

From Birth To Death

From birth to death the biological clock it does tick and tick away
And for all that breathe the breath of life a final night and day
And that there is more to life than wealth and fame few do become aware
Those in touch with the higher self to say the least are rare
The yearn for recognition is in all of us 'twould seem
Suppose we need a boost to the ego for our sense of self esteem
The average human life span is a decade with three score
We are mere mortals nothing more as was often said before
And yet with others we compete for success and yearn for wealth and renown
Anybody never daydreams of becoming the poorest one in the town
For success and for wealth and fame with each other we compete
And few are ever satisfied with being best on their street
But success and financial wealth does not come to everyone
And the yearn for recognition is part of the lust for life when all is said and done.

The Fellow From Maldon

Up north in the sub tropics of Byron Bay
The fellow from Maldon enjoying life today
Without children in his early twenties and yet to take a wife
He is making the most of the single life
Love making to him is not anything new
He has slept with many young women of his age and with far older than him a few
A few did fall for him in quite a big way
And in love ache the price for unrequited love they did pay
The fellow from Maldon is partial to his glass of cheer
It costs more than a few dollars for him for to get drunk on beer
In his twenty second year at the doorstep of his life's prime
He works not to save money but for to have a good time
The wanderlust in him so he will not stay
For long more in the sub tropics of Byron Bay.

Tuesday, August 23, 2011

The Tag Of The Rhymer

To say i'm a poet would be broadcasting a lie
The tag of the rhymer with me till i die
What is good or bad verse is not for me to say
I just do my own thing and live in my own way

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one of those who has penned heaps of stuff
The rhymes do come to me i just pen them down
But not for financial gain or for renown

It is said about poets they are born not made
But everyone needed in the wordsmith trade
Great playwrights and novelists and poets in the few
One might say to that tell us something that's new

In far aways fields i did pen my first rhyme
And that is going back near four decades in time
The years have left me looking weary and gray
And physically i've known a far better day

Some tell me i ought to give rhyming away
But to their advice any heed i do not pay
For as long as the breath of life i do retain
The yearn to pen more rhymes in me will remain.

I Will Not Be Telling Others

I will not be telling others how tough life is on me
Since all they would offer is feigned sympathy
Such as sad to hear this but we have cares of our own
And as you do know of hard times we too have known
Yet to the problems i have i never lose any sleep
And what is my business to myself i do keep
As a cynical person i have come to realize
That to suffer in silence for my kind more wise
Than seeking false sympathy from those who about me do not care
So my problems with others i never do share
To complain of my worries i'd only drag myself down
Who wants to be known as the sad sack of the town
For my poor financial judgement i now pay the price
My life problems came to me by my own device.

Monday, August 22, 2011

Hungry Without Rain

We did have a rather wet winter but of that one ought not to complain
The summer could be dry and thirsty we do need Nature's gift of rain
In two months of warm and dry weather the paddocks would look bare and brown
And the reservoir down below half full that supplies water to the people of the town
In the Horn of Africa for a decade of seasons there hasn't been any rainfall at all
On the bare sun dried ground nothing does grow where only the dark ants do crawl
The survivors of droughts and of famines wasted from hunger and disease
Surviving on food to them rationed in overcrowded camps of refugees
Many of their  friends and families of malnutrition have died in a slow and painful way
Did they have some rain in their homeplace they would not be where they are today
Of rain we should not be complaining without help of rain nothing does grow
I am not saying anything that is new here i am telling you something you should know
We did have a very wet winter and of that some like to complain
But again i would like to remind them that we would be hungry without rain.

Sunday, August 21, 2011

Dead Long Enough

You suffer of mental depression  life on you and your kind can be tough
But you may as well try to be happy for you will be dead long enough
The longest lived human life in time a short span so make the most of every day
The clock ticking on our existence and ticking and ticking away

In the economic depresssion you've lost heaps of money which has left you in a suicidal mood
Though not anywhere near financially bankrupt about your losses you do brood
You've thought of drowning yourself in the river or hanging yourself off of a branch of a tree
In your life you do need some laughter that is how it does seem to me

Worrying does create more worries so why bother to worry at all
The happiest of happy people their biggest worries do seem small
You can create for yourself a happier existence or you can make life on yourself  tough
You may as well sing and be happy for you will be dead long enough

Worrying does create more worries so why bother to worry at all
The happiest of happy people their biggest worries do seem small
You can create for yourself a happier existence or you can make life on yourself tough
You may as well sing and be happy for you will be dead long enough.

A Bookshop

Were i a very wealthy man i'd own my own bookstore
With rows and rows and rows of shelves stacked with books in galore
Books at cheap prices to suit the reading tastes of every man, woman, girl and boy
Books known to enhance knowledge and acquiring of knowledge leads to joy
A service to humanity in food for the mind
I'd play a small part in trying to rid humanity of ignorance since ignorance is blind
To the great gift of knowlewdge a small contribution i'd make
And it would be out of selfnessess and for humanity's sake
A bookshop a little contribution to knowledge for humankind from me
In books from the world's great thinkers the great minds of humanity
A bookshop to many may not seem a great achievement but to own one would suit me fine
A shop with books aplenty i would feel glad to call mine
Books can be a great source of information and from them knowledge is grown
A shop with shelves of books on all subjects is something i would love to own.

Saturday, August 20, 2011


Why he barks at strangers there's a reason why
Wirehaired and bob tailed Smitty the smithfield of strangers is nervous and shy
He barks at all strangers but them dare not venture near
In some dogs as in humans there is the fear of fear

Genevieve and Graeme bought him off of a dog pound by a former owner he may have been abused
For his anti social behaviour he ought to be excused
Devoted to his owners and to those he gets to know
'Twould seem the puppy Smitty into a good dog will grow

Compared to Ugi, Gen and Graeme's black and white border collie Smitty is a naughty boy
For Ugi is a pleasant dog and knowing him is a joy
But the white and brown Smitty still in his puppy stage
Will become more pleasant and friendlier as most dogs do with age

Smitty barks at strangers but he would never bite
But for a dog of his size he has a huge appetite
He is a greedy eater and food he does enjoy
And his favourite way of having fun is playing with his squeaky toy.

'Tis Hard To Feel Happy

'Tis hard to feel happy if you are financially down
And one of the unemployed in the poor side of the town
Where the out of work are many and jobs are few
And hard times to most people there nothing new
'Tis hard to feel happy when things are not going your way
With a wife and three young children and a big mortgage to pay
And you cannot afford to go for a drink to the local public bar
'Tis when you are down you know who your friends are
Born as one of the children of the lesser gods
From day one you have had to battle the odds
You do love your children and you do love your wife
Though few things for you ever go right in life
Three months ago the directors of the factory you worked in closed their business down
'Tis hard out of work on the poor side of the town.

Friday, August 19, 2011

Far North Of This Country

Far north of here even as the bird does fly
Perhaps fifteen thousand kilometres of sky
Even distant inland from Hibernia's Shore
The high mountain fields of old Claramore

A steep climb up an easy journey down
To Clara Hill overlooking Millstreet Town
The old hill that refuse to age with time
That has inspired to write of it the makers of song and of rhyme

It does seem that my past does keep following me
A fellow from Claraghatlea is all that i can be
The accent of Duhallow is with me today
It is something i could not even give away

Far north of this Country on this August day
Precipitation is threatening in rain clouds of gray
And the dipper is singing in the silver tongued rill
Babbling to the river it's voice never still.

Charlotte Meer

She is one not short of vices smokes tobacco and drinks beer
When she's drunk she's always laughing happy go lucky Charlotte Meer
Unmarried and childless in her early fifties men to her life come and go
When her every brief affair has ended she never sheds tears of woe
Four months the longest she will tell you that she spent with any man
She needs men for pleasure only marriage never in her life's plan
Never loved any of her lovers true love she has not known in her life
Her lovers she quickly tire of to any man she'll never be a wife
Fifty two and quite attractive strands of gray through her hair of brown
The prettiest looking ageing woman in her suburb of the town
She does not have a man at present for two months she has lived celibate
Perhaps she will grow old on her own never to find her soul mate
But drunk or sober she is happy she is one without a care
One of the few who may die laughing the Charlotte's of this World are rare.

Thursday, August 18, 2011

Of Nature I Would Write

Were i born a poet of Nature i would write
A poem for others to read and enjoy and recite
I would write of the blackbird in spring with the bright orange bill
That sings on the leafy tree by the rippling rill
That flows to the river destined for the sea
The wonders of Nature amazing to me
Though my worth as a rhymer i've reason to doubt
In Nature there's always things to write about
She filled me with wonder when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
My wonderment of her only seems to grow
But the more i learn of her the less about her i know i do know
For creativity none with her can hope to compare
She's the only immortal of which i am aware.

Barker's Creek

A place that does not change much from week to week
The brown and dry countryside of Barker's Creek
A place mostly of hobby farms few people live there
The hobby farmers have their main residence elsewhere
Yet it does have it's beauty on the higher ground
One can view the countryside for miles around
The freeway to anywhere not anywhere near
Where the flute of the magpie sounds melodious and clear
In times of el nino the creek there is dry
Barker's Creek paddocks welcome every drop of rain from the sky
In height of the summer it looks the worst for wear
The sun baked high paddocks look so brown and bare
In a place that does not change that much from week to week
The brown and dry countryside of Barker's Creek.

Of Nature

Fifty five years ago as a young boy
Learning of the ways of wild things i used to enjoy
And though i am older and wrinkled and gray
Nature it still does amaze me today
And whether i am buried or to ash i will burn
Of Nature i am and to her i'll return
The ant and the earthworm no different to me
I too like them born to mortality
Except for Nature time is everyone's foe
The breath of life that does sustain us eventually from us does go
Four score and ten years not long in time
Does not seem that long since you were in your prime
That Nature has many secrets is not a lie
And we do learn from her till the day we do die.

Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Memories Of

Memories of happy times and memories of woe
Seem to go with us to where-ever we go
And memories of what was are ours to retain
That is all of the past with us that does remain
Memories in photos do live on for years
Memories of happy times and memories of tears
Shed for one in the flesh never more to be seen
And yet the memories do remain evergreen
Memories of love that lost it's passion to time
When you were younger and in your life's prime
Is he or she like you are ageing with grace
Gray haired and plumper age wrinkles on face
Memories of the past are ours to retain
And them we do visit again and again.

In Most Human Behaviour

In most human behaviour a pattern you will find
The person who is cruel to animals can be cruel to human kind
Between what is cruel and not cruel is not hard to define
And to what is inappropriate behaviour some like to cross the line
The man who kicks and beats his animals allows violence in his life
It does not surprise to hear that such a person beats his children and his wife
Compassion and kindness does not have borders to all forms of life it does apply
Why this happens to be so no need to wonder why
Compassion and kindness are conditions of the mind
In a warm and caring person compassion for all thing you will find
With the saying of cruel to be kind i for one do not agree
As cruelty does not have borders that's how it does seem to me
Those who are kind to animals are kind to everyone
As kindness does not have borders when all is said and done

Sheila Becker

Dr Sheila Becker is a famous person born and raised near Millstreet Town
From Claraghatlea in view of Clara she began her journey to renown
She became a Nursing Sister in England and a Doctor in the U S A
And nowadays a famous Author she's a winner all the way

One of the Millstreet Sullivans of the Claraghatlea Master Clan
She lives distant from Duhallow where her life's journey began
A great Ambassador for Millstreet in the U S of A
From the fields in view of Clara close to half a World away

In the bigger World out there she is one who is well known
But we who are of Millstreet proud to claim her for our own
With two daughters and grandchildren to Jay Becker a good wife
It would be fair to say of Sheila she is larger far than life

One of life's great success stories for to come out of Millstreet
And though i've never met her in the flesh she is one i'd love to meet
Despite her great achievements unaffected by conceit
One who from life's challenges refuses to retreat

From Claraghatlea in Millstreet in Duhallow she has scaled the heights of fame
So many great achievements Sheila does have to her name
As a Nurse, Doctor and Author she just keeps on keeping on
She may be in her eighties but her better days not gone.

Tuesday, August 16, 2011

In Castlemaine Town

The magpies and pee wees and blackbirds in the parkland whistle and sing
And gray shrike thrush can be heard fluting in Castlemaine Town in the spring
And the Town gardens looking much greener and lusher after recent rain
And breeding frogs in the night singing in the pond and water filled drain
To Castlemaine in Central Victoria men once flocked in search of wealth and renown
Way back at the turn of the century when it was an old gold mining Town
The miners long since life have departed the mine shafts as memories of them do remain
They took all the gold from the diggings and left their mounds of red earth by unfilled holes in Castlemaine
A very warm place in the summer in winter it can be quite cold
The old Town in Central Victoria where hardy men once mined for gold
Many of them from their hard work did not grow wealthy and they died disappointed 'twould seem
Whilst the lucky few found the big nuggets a boost to their social and their self esteem
An old Town in Central Victoria with a climate of varying degrees
In spring, summer and autumn the weather can be warm and the winter nights often do freeze.

'Tis Not My Right

'Tis not my right to pass judgement on others on that others for themselves can speak
Those who look for the flaws in others are in their own ways rather weak
Live and let live and be happy to all people ought to apply
Yet not all people can mind their own business such a practice too hard for them to try
The flaws that we dislike in others are the flaws in our own selves we do see
The words of a very wise person one many times wiser than me
On the sins of the father and mother some do judge the daughter and son
Though she or he may be an innocent person and any harm to another may never have done
If you only look for the flaws in others then the good in them you'll never find
Some people in their words on others to pass judgement seem too inclined
There are more ways than physical aggression to others for one for to be unkind
Compassion is not in all people 'tis something that lives in the mind
'Tis not my right to pass judgement on others i like the sentiments on live and let live
If you are into verbally putting down of others you will only receive what you give.

It Sure Is A Nice Day

It sure is a nice day for to be alive
For to walk in the park or to go on a drive
The sun it is shining on a winter's day
And in the blue sky just a few clouds of gray
Mid august two weeks from the calendar spring
The flute of the shrike thrush to it has a musical ring
And though nesting birds chirp and whistle and warmer days near
This is a rare day for the time of year
Storm waters are gurgling in the roadside drain
We've had stormy weather of late and much rain
The parks and the paddocks lush looking and green
On late winter in Nature great beauty to be seen
The beautiful crimson rosellas chirping as they fly
In the winter sunshine to the woodland nearby.

Monday, August 15, 2011

You've Got What It Takes

You with brown eyes and dark hair and a big smile on your face
You make the World to live in a much happier place
Where-ever you are at joy is to be found
You carry it with you and spread it around
A nice and a beautiful person to know
You are one who possesses the rare inner glow
In the park or the shopping center or on the street
'Tis people like you i feel happy to meet
The warmth of friendliness in your cheerful good day
You've got what it takes as some do like to say
Of nice people as you are the World in need of more
This is something i'm sure you've heard often before
Where-ever you are at joy is to be found
You carry it with you and spread it around.

The Football Club's Hero

In his young years he was healthy, happy and carefree
He is not the man that he once used to be
He seldom sees their son and daughter and their children and estranged from his wife
One can only say that not all is well in his life
In his young years one who knew of sporting renown
Amongst football fans a hero of the town
One never found to be wanting when put to the test
In the Club's Grand Final win he was voted the best
On ground by the sports writers on football's big annual day
Even great old memories of what was in time fade away
Time eventually does become everyone's foe
His better and happier years now do seem long ago
The football club's hero in his glorious prime
Now walks with a cane as one more victim of time.

With Me That's Okay

Not everyone likes me with me that's okay
You win some and lose some as some like to say
And from life we do learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
With unrequited love i could never agree
Since i can only love people who do love me
The praises of liking and loving many do like to sing
Though it does seem to me these have to be a mutual thing
To like or love someone who does not love or like you yourself you only deceive
For like and love is like life in you give and receive
You cannot like anyone who does not like or love you
Though with me many may differ to this i hold true
Not everyone likes me with me that's okay
You win some and lose some as some like to say.

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Nature The Greatest

The greats of human history to life have come to and from gone
But Nature the greatest forever lives on
And all of her life forms are born to die
Immortality for human kind is based on a lie
The lovers of Nature her greatness celebrate
She is the one who has the power to create
New life which she keeps creating constantly
For her it will never be mortality
To her i do feel we do owe everything
And her praises i always feel happy to sing
I first grew to love her when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
One day her Reaper will claim the life's breath from me
Since to live for to die is my life's destiny.

Last Night In The Moonlight

Last night in the moonlight the magpies did sing
Just twenty nights and days from the calendar spring
At the start of their breeding season of the year
Their nocturnal flutings so pleasant to hear
At breeding times the males have their borders to defend
In their beautiful songs with a message of aggression they do not pretend
To spread the message of peace amongst males of their own kind
Male songbirds in their songs to war oft inclined
How lovely to hear the magpies sing on a moonlit august night
Though in their songs it is said there is aggression and fight
A warning to their own kind of their borders stay clear
Though to us their flutings melodious and joyous to hear
Last night in the moonlight the magpies did sing
Such natural beauty a memorable thing.

The Town's Earthly Hell

They were born as the children of the lesser gods
And for as long as they live they must battle the odds
They live and they die without knowing of happiness
And so few of them destined to know of success

Their parents as they were born into poverty
Their's is a vicious circle would you not agree?
From their earthly hell a long hike to renown
Life is really hard on the poor side of the town

To be born into the worst of circumstances should not be a crime
Most of them look like old people when in their life's prime
Their ancestral cemetery is the town's pauper's ground
Where they live not one wealthy one to be found

Stories of wealth and success they do not have to tell
The poorest of the poor of the town's earthly hell
The easiest day for them is very tough
The homeless and hungry who live and sleep rough.

Friday, August 12, 2011

Jerry Singleton

In Carriglea or in Millstreet Town never more to be seen
But memories of him will remain evergreen
With his family and the many friends in life he made
Good memories live on when all else seem to fade

Jerry Singleton was well liked and well known far from his home countryside
As a breeder, owner and trainer of greyhounds he was known far and wide
His greyhounds with the Carriglea prefix renowned for early pace
At the big Munster tracks won many a feature race

One of life's quiet achievers of him one could say
He never did brag it was not his way
Even with a few drinks in he never spoke loud
Though of his many achievements he must have felt proud

One can only hope that his parting from life was a painless release
And by Cashman's Hill may he now rest in peace
A man amongst men of him one can say
And Millstreet worse off for his passing today.

I Have Loved Mother Nature

I have loved Mother Nature since i was a boy
And my walks in her quiet places i still do enjoy
And as i age my wonder of her only does grow
So little about her i can claim to know
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And every day from her we learn something new
To live every life form including us humans on her does depend
Yet we do not treat her as our greatest friend
On her we depend though us she does not need
Her earth has been damaged due to human greed
For our crimes against her there will be some price to pay
By future generations it does seem this way
We depend on her for our very survival and that's not a lie
I love her and always will till the day i do die.

Mick Kelleher Will Visit Millstreet Again

Nostalgia for his first homeplace in him remain
Mick Kelleher will visit Millstreet again
The love of Claraghatlea in him has not died
He still refers to it as his countryside
Though the breath of life from many of his old friends has gone
The love of his first homeplace in him lives on
He thinks of the old fields he loves every day
His memories of what was will not fade away
He still talks of his friends back in Millstreet Town
And the old streets he often walked up and down
Next summer he may again climb Clara Hill
And hear the low babble of the Glasheen Rill
As on towards the Finnow it ripples it's way
Through fields decked with wildflowers on a summer's day.

Thursday, August 11, 2011

The Egotistical At Most Things

Success seldom comes to the unconceited and shy
For the reason for this no need to wonder why
If the ego of self you do never promote
You may never be known as a person of note
Self promotion nowadays has become the in thing
If your own praises you never do sing
Then you may never even know of local renown
An almost unknown on your side of the town
The last shall be first and the first shall be last
A sort of a biblical quote that belong to the past
A quote that does hardly apply in the human world of  today
Where the unsung quite achiever as such destined to stay
To climb the success ladder self confidence you do need
The egotistical at most things in life do succeed.

The Yarra Ranges Shire

In the Yarra Ranges from here far away
The male superb lyrebird is singing today
His lyre shaped tail above his back as on his mound he display
He's the world's greatest mimic you will hear some say
In the Yarra Ranges the pied currawong
One cannot get them wrong their calls of karrawang carrying in the hill breeze
 In the quiet before rain on the tall eucalypt trees
Where the laughing kookaburras call before sunrise
Their shrill cackling laughter not hard to visualize
And who could mistake the loud squawking of the white cockatoo
Or the much more pleasant calls of the dark brown weerloo
In the home of  the beautiful  king parrots and crimson rosellas the Yarra Ranges Shire
Of singing it's praises one never could tire.

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

Jim McCray's Plan For Football

It does not matter to me says Jim McCray
Who won or who lost in the game of the day
This football as such does not appeal to me
Though my wife and children watch it on the t v

So many young men tussling over one ball
To me anyway does not make sense at all
To football and it's supporters without meaning to cause offense
To give each player their own ball to play with would make far more sense

For aggressive young footballing males this not a bad idea
Each player with his own ball to play with would lead to football harmony
For all codes of football this is Jim McCray's plan
And he seems to me quite a sensible man

Though any football fan would not agree with him
His new plan for the game seems innovative of Jim
Give them all their own ball to play with this is his great idea
He says to all codes of  football it would bring harmony.

If 'Tis By Karma's Law

If 'tis by karma's law that you do wish to live
Then for to receive you must know how to give
Make sure you perform your good deed of the day
Though for such your reward may not come to you in a monetary way
For your every good deed money you may not receive
That is if in karma's law you do believe
Between the laws of karma and human made laws the difference is great
Since by our acts of kindness for ourselves good karma we create
Though of it's workings many of it have more knowledge than me
We create for ourselves good or bad karma that's how it seems to be
And if human made laws do not catch up with you for your serious crime
Then karma surely will on some future time
Of karma it is said we give to receive
That is if on such a thing you do believe.

If You Are A Sad Sack

If you are a sad sack few wish to know of you
Laugh and the world laughs with you happens to be true
If everyone at all times had a serious face
The human world to live in would not be a nice place
In the minds of some people happiness seems to abound
They carry it with them and spread it around
The charm they possess on you does seem to grow
Such people are people you wish for to know
So much stress and unhappiness in the human world of today
We do need more laughter it does seem this way
One has to feel for the sad sack sack of the town
As few wish to know of you when you are feeling down
Laughter is the best medicine remains ever true
When you are feeling sad there's none lonelier than you.

Tuesday, August 9, 2011

Age Does Creep Up On Us

The longest lived human life is a short spell in time
Age does creep up on us each year past our prime
Though some try their best for to hide time's decay
By hiding their wrinkles and cloaking their gray
'Tis true about pride it comes before a fall
The Reaper of Nature claims the lives of all
Her life forms and that includes you and i
Like all other life forms we are born to die
For success us humans with each other compete
We celebrate the billionaire the president and the great athlete
But age humbles all time does not wait for anyone
The monarch must die as must his daughter and son
The past lives in our memories though the past it has gone
And the clock on our lives ever keeps ticking on.

The Love Of Rhyme

For years i've been doing it 'tis what i love best
Though from it my right hand could do with a rest
Addicted to rhyming since seventy three
The love of rhyme has made a rhymer of me

I am one of those who pen rhymes every day
One never stops rhyming it does seem this way
For thirty eight years i've been a rhyming buff
And in that time i've written a whole heap of stuff

And though my worth as a rhymer i've reason to doubt
There is always plenty for to write about
Such as people and Nature and life of countryside and town
I just pen for the love of it not for renown

By the beauty around me to rhyme i'm inspired
Of singing Nature's praises i could never grow tired
Everyday in my walks new wonders i do see
In the immortal creator of all life forms none near great as she

For she is the one never destined to die
As death is for all of her life forms such as you and i
And as for me i hope to be rhyming till the day i do die
If i did tell you differently that would be a lie.

The Ailing Celtic Tiger

The Irish economy to great heights did soar
But the once great Celtic Tiger he has lost his roar
And for work many young people leaving Erin's shore
And times again tough there as in days of yore
A fiscal bail out from Europe a dent to Ireland's pride
And with some big economies struggling Worldwide
With close downs and lay offs almost everywhere
'Tis tough for young migrant job hunters in the big World out there
Even the great U S economy not at all doing well
How tough times will become only time will tell
Without work in depressed times in an economic meltdown
Young Irish people leaving in droves from every Irish village and city and town
And the ailing Celtic Tiger past his use by date
He has not been heard roaring at all of late.

Monday, August 8, 2011

The Most Of Us

The most of us have our spells of inner strife
And the most of us know of the battles of life
And in life we have our ups and downs every day
And for most of us it always will be this way
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps growing wide
By the lady of luck many of luck denied
And many will never know of success though hard for it they have tried
Life can be so hard without luck on your side
Of the ups and downs of life most of us do know
And for many their problems only seem to grow
'Tis always tough on the poor on the poor side of the town
You do know who your friends are when you are down
And though all hope of success in life from you has gone
Like the most of us you do keep battling on.

Young Joe

He is quite a talented fellow the emerging young artist Joe
But from his art he will never become wealthy and famous since he is his own greatest foe
He happens to be his own worst critic one might say he drags himself down
On this age of big egos and self promotion hardly the recipe for renown
The lacking in self confidence not into self promotion in life must struggle all of the way
In this the age of self promotion humility it does not pay
Young Joe is his own greatest critic to himself he is not a friend
The arrogant in life do better of that why even pretend
You got to have heaps of self confidence or in life you will not succeed
To be your own greatest critic is to your disadvantage indeed
Those who know of art say he is a good artist but his attitude is all wrong
Humility and lack of self confidence amongst the successful does not belong
Young Joe is a talented artist twenty two years on his birthday
But his greatest barrier to success is of self he does not have good to say.

I Feel That I Am Very Lucky

I feel that i am very lucky in some of the people everyday i do meet
Some of the people i meet in the parkland and some of the people i meet on the street
To me many of them are strangers who happen to be passing my way
With a smile and a cheerful how are you they help to bring joy to my day
When people are friendly and respectful towards you it makes you feel sort of okay
They leave you with a feel good feeling and good memories of them with you stay
When traveling you may stop in a town you are not known in and you are made to feel welcome there
By people to whom you are a stranger one who is traveling to elsewhere
This town you will always remember the people they do make the place
You will recall how they made you feel welcome though to them your's was a stranger's face
They have left you with a good impression of them and the town they live in
Nice and friendly and welcoming people for their homeplace new friends always win
I do feel i am very lucky in some of the people i meet every day
Though to some of them i am a complete stranger they greet me in a friendly way.

Sunday, August 7, 2011

Far Worse Off Than I

That i've never stopped learning from life that much i do know
And though in material possessions i don't have much to show
Compared to many my needs seem quite small
And my lack of success never phase me at all
There are millions of people hungry and homeless in the World of today
Compared to them my lot in life seems okay
So many are living in dire poverty
In life they have not been as lucky as me
That i could do with more money is something i won't deny
And though financially battling i manage to get by
On park benches and alleways people trying to sleep tonight
Compared to their's my worries must seem rather light
With three good meals a day and a warm bed on which to lie
There are millions of people far worse off than i.

The Claramore Rill

In fancy i can hear the silver tongued rill
Babbling through Claramore down the fields by the hill
Far north of here even as the bird does fly
In distance perhaps ten thousand miles of sky
Distance seems to disappear when i visualize
I hear the birds sing in an Irish sunrise
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
I hope the gift of memory with me will stay
Till the reaper will claim the life's breath from me
Something certain to happen whenever that be
But in fancy the Claramore rill i do hear
Though i've not been in Millstreet in Duhallow for many a year
In fields of Claraghatlea with a babble in it's flow
On it's way to the river by ditch and hedgerow.

Than Me, Myself And I

There is more to life than me, myself and i
Though to say they are not important would be telling a lie
Since most people place themselves first it does seem
A strong sense of self is good for self esteem
But too much love of self is not a healthy thing
Your praises you ought to leave to others to sing
Though self promotion the in thing of the day
That is how it is and how it will stay
For success with each other humans do compete
To be best in your neighbourhood and best on your street
And this leads one to lust for a greater renown
To be famed far and wide and the tops of the town
There is more to life than the self it is true
Though the dream of greatness for self many seem to pursue.

Friday, August 5, 2011

In The Fields Of Macroom

The fields of Macroom where Sullane waters flow
Home to rook and badger and silver back crow
Far north of this Country even as the bird fly
In distance 'twould seem thousands of miles of sky
Old Danny the years have left him looking gray
He would be a stranger in Macroom today
Not been back to his first homeplace since nineteen eighty three
The Town of Macroom he may never more see
A grandfather ten times estranged from his wife
A man who knows of the ups and downs of life
He may never again see the wildflowers in bloom
In spring by the Sullane near the Town of Macroom
And only the memories with him do remain
Of friends and relations he will not see again.

He Is From The Place

He is from the place of yellow tail black cockatoo
The bird often referred to as the weerloo
The high wood of the gum and the wattle and monterey pine
Where boobook by day does hide from the sunshine
He does feel homesick living in the big town
The buzz of the traffic on the streets all day up and down
He miss the high country it's wildlife and trees
The freshness and coolness of the mountain breeze
In his twenty second year close to his life's prime
Two years in the big town to him seems a long time
To live without friends and family in the hills far away
Where the song of the weerloo does herald the day
The laughter of the kookaburras he has not heard for some while
From his old home in the hills he lives many a mile.

One Person

One person the beauty in all others does see
Though another with such thinking does not agree
Like a flower to one to another a weed
That it does take all kinds it seems that way indeed
But 'tis for one in others who only looks for bad
That one has to feel just a little bit sad
The one who only sees good in all of humanity
Does seem quite a beautiful person to me
The human world is not short of the judgemental kind
For the flaws in others they only look to find
The nicest of people in their ways not small
Since they do believe on a fair go for all
What is a weed to one to another is a rose
It does take all kinds one would have to suppose.

In The Horn Of Africa

Where the precious top soil in the thirsty wind is flying
In the Horn of Africa millions of people are dying
The cattle there starving bones showing through the skin
And people young and old there hungry, weakly and thin

In the bare and scorched earth seedlings they do not sow
In the drought ravaged landscape anything does not grow
For many months there hasn't been any rain
Why many are born to suffer is beyond me to explain

Compared to them so very lucky am i
It will not be of want of food that i will die
The emaciated bodies from hunger vulnerable to disease
In the overcrowded camps of climate refugees

There are more pleasant things for one to write about
Than imges on  t v of  lands ravaged by drought
Of people and their animals of hunger just wasting away
In the sun scorched Horn of Africa today

Their thin and starving animals are not worth killing for meat
Where millions are hungry there is nothing to eat
In the Horn of Africa the earth scorched and dry
And the sun all day long burns in the blue sky.

Rhyme Sonnets

'Tis true that rhyme sonnets are easy to write
And easy to read and easy to recite
But a well written rhyme sonnet is a beautiful thing
As the rhyming words in it to the reader does sing
It is not a secret with you i do share
When i say that good rhyming sonnets are certainly rare
The rhyming sonnet you read and you re-read again
That in your mind's memory bank you do retain
'Tis true a good rhyme sonnet can make a good song
One that to the ages is destined to belong
The rhyme sonnet you like to recite every day
As a nice piece of work as some do like to say
Rhyme sonnets are many but well written one's few
You may say to that tell us something that is new.

Thursday, August 4, 2011

Compassion And Kindness

Compassion and kindness out there you will not find
They live and they bloom in the beautiful mind
And 'tis something that has been said often before
Of compassionate and kind people the world in need of more
From compassion and kindness love of self and others does grow
I am telling you here something you ought to know
Compassionate and kind people have in them empathy
For the suffering of others they feel sympathy
Compassion and kindness unlike blossoms does not bloom on bushes and trees
The people who have them are always helping the poor, the homeless and refugees
In the minds they live in the light of love does glow
Such people are beautiful people to know
Amongst the good of humanity they are to the fore
But of their sort the world is in need of more.

One Of The Best

Nostalgia the thing that does move him to tears
For happier days and for happier years
When he was much younger, healthy and carefree
His happier times live in his memory
That time becomes our foe i cannot disagree
He is not the man that he used to be
In a long gone Grand Final he was best on ground
When a finer sportsman than him was hard to be found
In his prime strong and handsome, athletic and tall
An elite sportsman in his code of football
The years have left him feeling feeble and gray
And it can be said of him he did have his day
Never found to be wanting when put to the test
And in his chosen sport he was one of the best.

Of Life There Is So Much

Of life there is so much to learn and know
And the karma we reap is the karma we sow
At least anyway that's how it seems to me
Though with that sort of reasoning many would disagree
We never stop learning as some like to say
And from life we do learn something new everyday
And for every life lesson there is some price to pay
In some form or other it does seem anyway
Our memories linked to the past though the past it has gone
And the clock on our lives ever keeps ticking on
Our circumstances in life are linked to destiny
At least anyway that's how it seems to be
And from life a new lesson or two every day
We never stop learning as some like to say.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Such A Beautiful Place

Even in winter nature can wear a pretty face
Where i am today such a beautiful place
With winter sunshine on the beautiful trees
And only the slightest of chill in the breeze
Of my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
But so much in nature for to write about
Everywhere i turn to look everywhere i do see
Her beauty is everywhere all around me
The subject of art and of story and song
I feel that us humans to her do belong
For winter this is such a beautiful day
In the sunlit blue sky just a few clouds of gray
Utopia from this place cannot be far away
Of such beauty fond memories with me bound to stay.

How Can You Own The Thing That Feeds You

Most people's thinking on land and the ownership of it to me anyway seems all wrong
For how can we own something that owns us since to the land we do belong
She grows the food we need to live on without her we could not hope to survive
How can you own the thing that feeds you the thing that keeps you alive
The land we claim to own we cannot take with us when the breath of life from us has gone
Perhaps one of your children will own the deed to your property and life on the land does go on
The land keeps on growing food for generations of people and this is how it always will be
We cannot own the thing that supports us and feeds us that is how it does seem to me
All we own of the land is a piece of paper that says so from a tree that the land  has grown
The legal document that tells others the property is your's in a true sense the land it does own
For centuries people over land have been warring and for the land they fight for they die
By believing in the first place 'tis their land they fight for they do believe in their own lie
'Tis all about land and all about land possession but when we die the land does remain
Why we fight over a thing we do belong to is beyond me for to explain
You say you own your land but i beg to differ since i feel you do have it wrong
How can you own something that feeds and supports you that you in truth to does belong?

Old Bodger

He can be verbally insulting since  that can be his way
But it does take all kinds as some are known to say
His is the loudest voice in the bowls club
And his volume is no less at the local pub
Yet his drinking mates say Old Bodger is a great bloke
And they laugh aloud at his every bawdy joke
But after drinking a few beers and whiskey and wine
Between what is acceptable and offensive he does not draw the line
For one in his mid seventies Bodger lacks in common sense
As some of his jokes to some does cause offense
But forsaken by his children and his long suffering wife
One might say of him he has been soured by life
When drunk he is prone to verbal abuse
But for all bad behaviour there is some excuse.

Tuesday, August 2, 2011

When He Said Poets

When he said poets as ever in the few
He told me something i already knew
Insightful wisdom poets with others do share
'Tis a pity indeed that they are so rare
Without poets the Human World to live in would be worse off indeed
Their insightful wisdom humanity does need
And we should credit them the credit they are due
Since to compassion and empathy they remain true
Poets as ever are quite rare he said to me
With him on that i could not disagree
In poets goodness is never hard to find
Compassion lives in the poetic mind
We need a lot more poets he said to me
With him on that i only could agree.

Kookaburras Laughter

Long before most of diurnal wildlife from slumber awake
In the mountain wood two hours before daybreak
The loud unmelodious cacklings of the kookaburras one does hear
Though some distance away they do seem rather near
Their outbursts of delirious laughter in their own kind meant to instill fear
A warning to other kookaburras of their borders to stay clear
Aggressivew by nature since this is their way
The largest non fishing kingfishers of prey
When laughing kookaburras laugh together as a family
It is all about group bonding and defence of territory
With borders to proclaim and nesting sites to defend
Kookaburras do not call out for to make a friend
In the darkness of the morning in the woodland near
The laughter of the kookaburras unmelodious and clear.

The Need For Recognition

It is in the babe before the babe learns to crawl
The need for recognition it is in us all
We all do need a boost to our self esteem
Recognition can do wonders for us it does seem
To be best on your street and the best in the town
The crave in us all is for greater renown
They do seem to be siblings money and fame
Without them your's will never become a well known name
The humble lose out in the world of today
Self promotion is the in thing it does seem this way
Even shy people some form of recognition do need
Without the crave for recognition in life we could not succeed
Such a need is in you and such a need is in me
This is how it is and it always will be.

Monday, August 1, 2011

In My Dreams I Do Hear It

In my dreams i do hear it the old mountain rill
Babbling to the river down the field by the hill
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And the wildflowers do bloom in the fields far away
In the leafy grove the nesting birds sing
Proclaiming their territories in the prime of the spring
And cows to their young calves in pasture fields lowing
And hidden in the rank rushes the cock pheasant crowing
In dreams i am back in the old fields again
Above me the gray clouds do seem pregnant with rain
And the skylark a musical speck in the sky
Grows tinier and tinier as upwards he does fly
In reality i do know the past has long gone
But in my subconcious it does seem to live on.

You Never Stop Rhyming

You never stop rhyming to me she did say
What you so like doing why should you give away
Just carry on rhyming for as long as you can
And live till you die as a rustic rhyming man
Your best days in life to the forever gone
But you do enjoy rhyming so why not keep rhyming on
You've written one can say a whole heap of stuff
And for many years now you've been a rhyming buff,
Though you are not a good rhymer and time has left you gray
You carry on rhyming to me she did say
No need for me to tell you it is nothing new
That rhymers are many though good one's are few
And though literary critics they may put you down
We need one like you on our side of the town.

Mt Dandy In July

The yellow eyed currawongs the dark birds of rain
They call out karrawang again and again
And rain clouds are gathering in the gray sky
In the depths of winter in Mt Dandy in july
The great mountain ash trees shrouded in gray fog
And one can hear the plonk plonk of the billabong frog
And the woodland does echo to the male lyrebird's song
The title of the world's greatest mimic to his kind belong
The harsh grating squawking of the white cockatoo
And the familiar weeyu call of the dark brown weerloo
And the kookaburra's laughter one often does hear
These birds that are heard every day of the year
And the crimson rosellas do chirp as they fly
In the fog shrouded wood of Mt Dandy in july.