Wednesday, September 28, 2011

You Cannot Be Perfect

There isn't anyone that is perfect that is how 'twould seem to be
Though some are more flawed than others would you not agree?
Yet the nearest to perefect are flawed in some way
Perfection is not for human kind as some are known to say
You can only live for to be as good as you can
And that applies to every girl and boy and every woman and man
And be always willing for to help one of helping in need
And do not expect recognition when you perform a good deed
People who have compassion they are a rare breed
For their good karma in life they do plant the good seed
Though perfection for  any human being seems impossible to achieve
For to live as a good person one must give to receive
You cannot be perfect only the best you can be
Though some more flawed than others would you not agree?

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Denis Florence MacCarthy

Far more than a literary fellow of note
Denis Florence MacCarthy he was a great poet
So many of his time to anonymity gone
But the poems of MacCarthy are read and living on

A poet and translator and a collector of song
Amongst the greats of Irish Literature he does belong
His sort of poetry does live on in time
His original poems have music in the rhyme

Though the literary critics him tend to under-rate
In his own right MacCarthy was truly a great
Poet and with the best of his time he was one to compare
'Tis true what is said about poets they are rare

One of Dublin's nineteenth century literary finest to that his poems testify
Of him the mantle of greatness would be hard to deny
Denis Florence MacCarthy his poems read and enjoyed today
Of him that does say more than words could ever say.

Dan Connors

In Claraghatlea in the flesh never more to be seen
But fond memories of him will remain evergreen
Grieved by his many friends and family and Sheila his wife
Dan Connors has come to the end of his journey in life

From his first home in Rockchapel he migrated to the U S of A
One who from Ireland who had lived and worked far away
As honorable a fellow as one could wish to meet
And one who was liked on his side of Millstreet

I retain fond memories of the genial Dan
The likeable fellow and well travelled man
For to help others out he went out of his way
And of anyone never had harsh words to say

The clock on our lives ever ticking away
And for all of us there is a last night and day
One can only hope his parting from life was a painless release
Farewell to Dan Connors may he rest in peace.

Monday, September 26, 2011

Wherever She Is At

Wherever she is at joy is to be found
She carries it with her and spreads it around
In her early seventies and lovely to behold
She has not lost her beauty though she is growing old
An ageing grandmother her brown hair flecked with gray
So charming and pleasant in her own sweet way
She always seems happy she does enjoy life
To one lucky man she's a wonderful wife
One who is a credit to her side of the town
To be a good person is her claim to renown
Always willing to help those of helping in need
She does not seek recognition for her many a good deed
And wherever she is at joy is to be found
She carries it with her and spreads it around.

I Have Convinced Myself

I have convinced myself i am not good enough
That my rhymes are too simple and slipshod and rough
We are what we think we are that's how 'twould seem to me
And with that assumption many may agree

Were i a politician anyone for me would not vote
Since my own self i never do wish to promote
With my attitude i will never become a poet
Or be looked on as anyone worthy of note

Still the rhymes keep coming to me and i pen them down
But not for financial gain or literary renown
To penning stuff i must be addicted it does seem this way
For i keep adding rhymes to my list every day

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one of those who has penned heaps of stuff
With the rhyming of words i'm one who loves to play
And what i enjoy doing why should i give away.

Sunday, September 25, 2011

The World Will Not Stop

The World will not stop when life's breath from me has gone
And life on the Planet will surely go on
The migratory birds will fly north for to breed in the Spring
And the skylark will fly to the clouds for to sing
And there will be wars, famines, droughts and disease
And in refugee camps millions of refugees
Humans like all other life forms  are born to die
Since life is not eternal and that's not a lie
Long after all trace of me lost to memory
Life on Planet Earth will go on without me
And though i'm in the late autumn of my life's span
I want to live on for as long as i can
Since life after death may be based on a lie
I do want to live but i know i must die.

Though Some

Though some for little reason become violent and shout
There are few things in life worth getting angry about
And some despite huge financial difficulties never seem to worry at all
The difference in temperaments between people is not in any way small
Some people are honest and caring and kind
When you are in trouble a friend in them you will find
To help those in need of helping they go out of their way
And they perform their good deed or two every day
Whilst some people only do serve their own need
And for promotion of self become obsessed with greed
The compassionate and caring the greedy and those lacking in empathy
Amongst the human race there are all kinds that's how it seems to be
And few do grow wise though all grow old and gray
It does take all kinds as some are known to say.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

A Claraghatlea Fellow

Where-ever i go to my past goes with me
A Claraghatlea fellow is all i can be
I am from the place of the silver tongued rill
That babbles to the river down the field by the hill

By denying my past to myself i would lie
A Claraghatlea fellow i will be till i die
'Tis there i was born and grew into a man
Though far south of there i may live out my life span

From Claraghatlea i'm one who lives far away
And there i'd be a stranger to many  today
Though the old fields i loved perhaps would look the same
I recall many of them by their given name

A migrant from Claraghatlea well past his prime
As gray as a badger from the passing of time
Yet in my flights of fancy i can hear and see
A pink breasted male bullfinch singing on a birch tree

When the nesting birds sing at the twilight of day
And the hawthorns are cloaked in their white blooms of the May
And the freshening winds from the hills gather the clouds of rain
In fancy i walk with my old dog Pudsy in the fields again.

For The Fans Of Koroit

For the fans of the Koroit Football Club their joy it was great
When their senior team won the Premiership how they did celebrate
In Mickey Bourke's and the Colonial Hotel they partied all night long
As they did celebrate in beer, music and song
It is not every year a club wins a Senior Premiership Flag
And such a great triumph gives the fans right to brag
In sports as in life the winners take all
And for weeks in Koroit the main talk was football
Of joy and disappointments in life and in sports we do read of and hear
And a club does not win a Premiership Flag every year
And though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
For one to be a winner many have to lose
As for the future as a mystery it does remain
And when will Koroit be the Premiers again?

Friday, September 23, 2011

Seasonal Signs Of Nature

When leaf buds are on the birch tree and you hear the goldfinch sing
Though the weather may be damp and cool you know that it is Spring
For the seasonal signs of Nature one need not look hard to see
I cannot help but see them they are all around me
No matter what the weather though chill the winds may blow
Of the time of year and season Nature does let us know
In life we never stop learning as some do like to say
And from Nature we learn something new every day
Though the weather is cool and a chill in the breeze
The pink blossoms are blooming on the fruit bearing trees
A sign to everyone that seems obviously clear
That we are in the early Springtime of the year
From the behaviour of Nature's flora and fauna it should be obvious to all
What Season Spring, Summer or Winter or Fall.

Sheila Becker's Memories

The mental pictures of the past she does retain
Memories of people of her young years with her remain
And old meadows where she often crowered the hay
When summer sun shone through the clouds of gray

The author Dr Sheila Sullivan Becker to many is a well known name
An octogenarian woman who enjoys a worldly fame
In Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town her life's journey began
And her memories more than seven decades do span

A good mother to her children and to Jay Becker a good wife
Out of Claraghatlea she has lived most of her life
For years she has lived in the U S of A
From old Clara Mountain many miles away

From that old green countryside by Millstreet Town
Her journey in life has taken her to renown
And though great success in her life she has known
Her memories of her past she never does disown

A person that i never may get to meet
But i feel proud to say that she hails from Millstreet
From old Claraghatlea a place as old as time
Where she migrated from before she reached her prime.

Thursday, September 22, 2011

By Trying To Kill Off Rhyme

Many of the twenty first century literary critics applaud the passing of rhyme
As something that belong to another time
But rhyme does live on in the words of the song
With music to dance to and with to sing along
Many of the literary critics who claim to be well read
Would like you to believe that rhyme it is dead
By trying to kill off rhyme they try to kill off song
In some of their thinking they do have it wrong
Many of the great rhyming poets amongst the forever gone
But their songs and their poems sung and read and live on
If some of the twenty first century literary critics did have their way
The writing of rhyme would be a crime today
But rhyme does survive despite what some of it does say
And to that i do feel like shouting hooray.

The Former Rose Of Duhallow

Does she like most others in hair dyes cloak her gray
The former Rose of Duhallow where might she be today?
Back in the mid nineteen fifties as i do recall
In green old Duhallow she was the fairest of all

Duhallow's unmarried young women of her time
Then nineteen or twenty approaching her prime
But in old Duhallow one destined not to stay
The wanderlust in her for lands far away

From the lush fertile fields where the Blackwater flow
The home to the badger and the silver back crow
She left when the hawthorns wore their white blooms of the May
And on shed rafters the sparrows built their nests of feathers and hay.

With shoulder length wavy brown hair and eyes blue as ripened sloe
The former Rose of Duhallow six decades ago
She seemed down to earth free of conceit or guile
And i still remember her beautiful smile

The past may be gone but the memories with me remain
Of the former Rose of Duhallow and i see her again
Walking on the roadway her hair blowing in the breeze
On a nice day in Summer close to twenty degrees.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011


With wrinkles and gray hair she is ageing with grace
But oh she does have such a beautiful face
With kindly brown eyes and a wonderful smile
One who is untainted by conceit or guile
She never gave birth or never was anyone's wife
To the caring of the have nots she devoted her life
A missionary nursing sister in South America for years
She remembers the past with nostalgia and tears
Without monetary reward she helped those in poor health and dire poverty
A woman blessed with the gifts of compassion, kindness and empathy
A humble person for helping the poorest she does not wish to be known
In her one bedroom flat Elida lives on her own
In her early eighties her hair silver gray
For years a nurse to the poorest in a land far away.

Such Is life One Suppose

In life on our ancestral pathways we trod
We follow their ways and we worship their god
Their values and cultures we do happily retain
And though long dead their influence with us does remain
We follow their ways as if perfection in life they had known
As if we do not have minds of our own
Though the flames of hatred like us they had fanned
As they warred over god and they warred over land
Their old hatreds and grudges we carry today
When we fight their old wars in lands far away
The breath of life from them it may be long gone
But the flaws that they had in us seem to live on
To them we have similar friends and to them we have similar foes
And we carry their genes such is life one suppose.

Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Beauty In Nature

Everywhere i turn to look i do see
The beauty in Nature everywhere around me
Pink blossoms are blooming on the fruit bearing tree
And the silver bill magpie proclaims his territory
On a sunny Spring morning of nineteen degrees
His warbling notes carry in the freshening breeze
On the twentieth of September the first month of the Spring
The beauty in Nature is an eternal thing
Of her ways so little i can claim to know
But my wonderment of her only does grow
There is so much beauty in her to admire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
So good to be living on such a nice day.


His best days behind him to the forever gone
And the clock on his life as ever ticking on
He does look his age a seventy one years old man
But he wants to live on for as long as he can

His wife Katie died seven years ago
A good mum to their son and daughter and a good wife to Joe
Eight times a grandfather time has left him walking slow
Of life's ups and downs he is one who does know

A man who loves life that's how he seems to me
On the town park pathway walking him i often does see
He always greets me with a cheerful good day
A very nice man in his own charming way

Four decades have passed since he was in his prime
Eventually we all become victims of time
Yes time eventually becomes everyone's foe
In that way any of us are not different to Joe.

Monday, September 19, 2011

You Daydream Of

You daydream of great wealth and glory and you feel a change of luck is your due
But daydreams are that only daydreams and daydreams do seldom come true
A change of luck may well come your way and better times to you may bring
But that does not mean the masses will know of you and your praises the millions will sing
Most people daydream of becoming wealthy and famous though wealth and fame only comes to a few
You may say to that thanks but no thanks for telling us something we already knew
Yes only a few become wealthy and famous though millions do daydream of fame
An escape from reality for the daydreamer to imagine your's as a renowned name
 But for one to become wealthy and successful and famous so many are destined for to lose
And of losing anyone does not daydream it's a thing anyone in his or her right mind would wish for to choose
But even for the wealthy and famous life is not always easy when you scale the heights of renown
Not everyone is your admirer to size some like to cut the tall poppies down
For to daydream of great wealth and renown is healthy for your self esteem
Though life's winners do take all of the glory at least that is how it does seem.

Sunday, September 18, 2011

How Lucky

You may have been born into poverty
As the child of a narcotic addicted  mother disowned by her family
Prostituting herself just for to make ends meet
In a cold and damp one bedroom flat on poverty street
Or in a refugge camp to a refugee
Condemned by circumstance to a life of misery
Compared to millions of people you are lucky indeed
As you have never been homeless or hungry or of anything in need
You feel by lady luck that you have been denied
And though you have a better income than most you are not satisfied
Millions are homeless and hungry in the Human World of today
Compared to them you are doing rather okay
Born to well to do parents how lucky can you be
Though with what i say of you of course you disagree.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

You Power Hungry Politicians

You power hungry politicians to you can i make it clear
That your deceitful propaganda i no longer wish for to hear
On your demonizing of the homeless and the stateless your redneck voters to satisfy
Of the very poorest of the poor of a fair go you do deny
On vying for the votes of narrow minded voters you do not do anything to enhance humanity's name
Politics at the expense of asylum seeking people in reality does seem a shame
To seek advantage at the expense of the disadvantaged does seem rather shabby to me
When politicians become poll driven the loser is the refugee
Those with the power of big decisions do seem lacking in empathy
Amongst the so called very high achievers you will not find much humanity
The fair go for all as ever in name only to the wealthy and powerful only does apply
Of a fair go to humanity's true battlers those with the power do see fit to deny
Many of those with the power of big decisions in their own small ways can be quite small
To human rights they pay lip service but they do not believe on a fair go for all.

Friday, September 16, 2011

He Died Nailed To A Timber Cross

He died nailed to a timber cross on Calvary
The one whose name and deeds outlive mortality
The son of God Jesus by men crucified
The one who has millions of followers Worldwide

Yet many good people are murdered today
Their lives taken from them in a brutal way
The lessons not learned from the generations long gone
Man's inhumanity to man will forever live on

The ways of the human being hard to understand
People kill people out of jealousy for money and for god and for land
Because of the anger of others many good people with their lives pay
Heaven on Earth will never be that does seem sad to say

Though the praises of Jesus by millions are sung
Good people every day through foul means dying young
The mistakes of the past many choose to ignore
And man's inhumanity to man will be forever more.

Thursday, September 15, 2011

The Adult Bully

That some people learn from life is a fact one ought not deny
And some school yard bullies change their ways as years go by
But the adult bully as a bully stay
The old dog never learn new tricks it seems this way
The adult bully a bully for life
A bully to his children and his wife
Some men do not grow wiser only grow old and gray
The leopard does not change it's spots as some do say
The adult bullies not only of male kind
Amongst females too some bullies you will find
Adult bullies can be found in every gender and every race
Their downfall self love they cannot embrace
The adult bully as a bully remain
Why this should be beyond me to explain.

Tim Kiely's Match Report

Tim Kiely plays for Millstreet Celtic Football Club one who is into sport
And on the Millstreet Website he writes his match report
A Millstreet man who does his bit for the World game of football
And his penmanship pleases many but many is never all.

That one cannot please everyone at that why feel surprised
Of late his usage of the English language has been harshly criticized
But you win some and you lose some in life as some do say
And lets hope Tim does not take it to heart and give writing away

The English language it has changed a lot since Geoffrey Chaucer's time
Within the past few decades we've witnessed the death of rhyme
And those who talk of perfection and on such does believe
Must also realize that perfection is beyond any human to achieve

The near perfect usage of language is for the so called literary elite
Tim Kiely does it his way he speaks the language of Millstreet
If everyone used near perfect language how boring we would be
Difference makes us more interesting that's how it seems to me

One who writes in the true dialect of Duhallow's Millstreet Town
Lets hope the criticism it does not get him down
He ought to be commended for his service to his favourite sport
I am one who enjoy reading Tim Kiely's match report.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

The Rhymes Do Come To Me

The rhymes do come to me on notepaper i pen them down
But not for financial gain or even local renown
Some even tell me i waste far too much of my time
On penning what to them is doggerel rhyme
But i repeat here what i have said before
This sort of advice i do always ignore
Why should i stop doing what gives pleasure to me
That would be self defeatist would you not agree?
For many years i have been a rhyming man
And i will keep penning rhymes for as long as i can
I hope to rhyme on till my life's final day
What i enjoy doing why should i give away
The urge to pen more rhymes i cannot resist
Just another one here for to add to my list.

On The Trees Of Mount Eccles

On the trees of Mount Eccles above Lake Surprise
In the still morning air the white cocky cries
And the whistling of the shrike thrush is pleasant to hear
In september a beautiful time of the year
Mount Eccles the home to koala and roo
And sulphur crested cocky and the dark brown weerloo
On the once volcanic hill in the dawning gray
A safe haven for Nature's creatures today
Such beauty is nearer than one realize
I am on Mount Eccles when i visualize
The magpies are piping on the blackwood trees
Their pleasant notes carrying in the freshening breeze
On Peaceful Mount Eccles in the dawn of the day
A safe haven for wildlife from here far away.

I Have Not Seen Them For Years

I have not seen them for years that is to my regret
But the friends of my past i will never forget
In my memory they remain young their hair free of gray
Though in the flesh they may look different if i met them today
Where i once was known to everyone in my first homeplace
Mine to many there now would be a stranger's face
But the old fields i loved to me would look the same
Many of them i recall by their given name
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
In fancy i can hear the silver tongued rill
Babbling to the river down the fields by the hill
Where to every local i was well known
And everyone knew me as one of their own.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

The Miserly Fellow

He died in his sixties did not live to be old
But it cannot be said of him that he had a 'heart of gold'
Though a money millionaire he lived as a miserly man
He accumulated over a million in money in his given time span

He did not father children did not have a wife
A miserly man who led a miserable life
Thanks to him some of his nephews and nieces financially better off today
Though they did not grieve his passing or for his soul pray

He was not broad minded in his ways he was small
He had a short fuse to his temper as those who knew him recall
He must have had some good points one would have to suppose
Though in his life he made far fewer friends than foes

We all have our life crosses to bear in some way
An undiagnosed manic depressive some of him did say
A millionaire in money yet one of mind poverty
The beauty in Nature he never could see

'Tis said how we live is our life's destiny
Though some with such reasoning may well not agree
From his cares and worries death gave him release
The miserly fellow may he rest in peace.

For Many

For many life is a great battle an uphill climb all of the way
For the children of very poor parents from their first to their life's final day
For them no such a thing as life choices born for to struggle to survive
For their kind it is an achievement in their fifties for to be alive
For their children like them life is a battle the vicious circle never ends
Without money for socializing the poor never have any friends
The most of them survive on welfare they struggle for to make ends meet
Why even pretend of life's choices for the poor souls of poverty street
In the human world poverty is rife and it does seem a sad thing to have to say
That millions are homeless and malnourished and many die of hunger every day
And to those of you who believe everyone has life choices i ask why would anyone wish for to live in poverty
And be born to the poorest of poor parents very few would choose such a life 'twould seem to me
For millions life is a huge battle they only know of want and unhappiness
The poor homeless who often are hungry survival for them is success.

Monday, September 12, 2011

A Sad Thing To Say

'Tis said that their numbers are growing ever rare
That climate change is taking toll on the white Arctic bear
That due to a thinning of the ice which makes it harder for them to catch prey
Of drowning and of hunger they are dying every day
The Siberian tiger the largest of the big cats in the wild state quite rare
And are even more endangered than the Polar bear
Climate change it does seem is now out of control
And on many species of birds and animals is taking toll
Some claim that climate change is escalated by human greed
That to bring about our own extinction we may even succeed
People still burning fossil fuels despite climate experts advice
The successes of human kind it does come at a price
The children of the future for our mistakes will pay
And that does indeed seem a sad thing to say.

'Tis True Self Promotion

'Tis true self promotion nowadays the in thing
And many their own praises do like to sing
And the humble an endangered species 'twould seem
Some even look on humility as a form of low self esteem
Those who form the habit of putting themselves down
Do never become the best in the town
It should not come to anyone as a surprise
To know that the successful themselves never do criticize
To the losers in life none ever drink a toast
And the tag of good loser is not worth a boast
For success every day people do compete
To be best in the town or be best on the street
Most people daydream of fame and of being admired everywhere
And known as the best at what they do in the big World out there.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

John Shaw Neilson Of Nature

John Shaw Neilson of Nature in his verses did sing
Of The Orange Tree and The Little Blue Flower Of The Spring
And The Native Companions Dancing and The Poor Country Out There
Poets like he was as ever remain very rare
He began life on his hard journey to renown
In a humble shack in South Australia's Penola Town
Where from as a boy he moved with his family to the Victoria Town of Nhill
Where he grew to love and learn of Nature and hone his poetic skill
One who never fathered children or never had a wife
In Melbourne in Victoria he lived the last years of his life
Since John Shaw Neilson breathed his last sixty nine years in time has gone
But the poems of the Mallee's greatest poet alive and living on
A master wordsmith one of literary note
His name lives on as an exceptional poet.

The Collingwood Barracker Fred

One would think there would be more to life than Collingwood and A F L Football
But to a well known local the biggest thing of all
That he has happening in his life he swears by Collingwood
When they are going well winning games life with him is all good

His wife Elaine says to her friends i worry about Fred
His black and white beanie of Collingwood he even wears to bed
He has a Collingwood addiction that does seem sad to say
At their every game in Melbourne he goes to watch them play

She says Fred takes more interest in Collingwood than on our children Jude and Joe
He wears his magpie beanie on his head to whereever he does go
He must be Collingwood's greatest barracker perhaps their most loyal fan
But Jude worries about the mental state of her footy mad man

He goes to cheer on Collingwood his favourite Football Club
He watches football on t v and talks football at the pub
He wears his black and white beanie all of the time he even wears it to bed
Collingwood has no greater fan than their ever devoted Fred.

Saturday, September 10, 2011

The Memories Remain

I come from the place of the silver back crow
Where the Cails and Finnow to the Blackwater flow
Where the badgers at twilight from their setts venture out
In the old fields at night in search of food they roam about
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
And my wonder of her only does seem to grow
Though little about her i can claim to know
Where i was born and raised in from here far away
And though i've not been back there for many a day
In fancy on barn rafters i see the sparrows building their nests of hay
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
The past may be gone but the memories remain
And in fancy i walk in the old fields again.

Of The Feelings Of Others

Of the feelings of others one ought to feel aware
Sometimes before speaking some thought you might spare
On the consequences of what you are about to say
There are many occasions on which prudence does pay
Wise people do never use words that gives rise to offense
Than that one can say they have far better sense
That the hurtful with their words loose lips of the town
Who find pleasure on verbally putting others down
Remember that others do have feelings too
And do unto them as you'd like them do to you
Enemies with your words are not hard for to make
But those you offend may give as good as they take
So sometimes before speaking once maybe you should think twice
For verbally hurting one's feelings for to pay there's a price.

Would You Not Agree

Our different likes and dislikes make us more interesting would you not agree
What is great to you may not be so to me
Or vice versa it would seem fair to say
That no two look at life in quite the same way
But with those of different values you do not socialize with why otherwise pretend
A like minded person will become your friend
Humanity is made up of tribes that's how it seems to be
We feel happy to socialize in like minded company
Each to his or her own as some do like to say
The lion and the horse together never lay
And though difference in thinking it hardly is a bonding thing
Of the praises of difference i feel happy to sing
As it makes us more interesting how boring we would be
If on everything we did see fit to agree

Friday, September 9, 2011

Rose Of Camperdown

With shoulder length wavy hair and eyes of brown
She lives quite a way from her rural Hometown
Down to earth one who does not yearn for renown
Such a beautiful person Rose of Camperdown

The life of Suburbia she does enjoy
She does feel content and at home in Fitzroy
Unattached without children one who is carefree
Next year in July she will be twenty three

She does not have siblings twice a month she
Drives to Camperdown mum and dad for to see
For some lucky bloke she would make a good wife
Though she is happy at present in her single life

So charming and attractive with a beautiful smile
She is what she seems one untainted by guile
The charm of the rural town girl she retain
Surely Camperdown's loss has to be Fitzroy's gain.

A Good Rhyming Poem

A good rhyming poem can be sung as a song
That when put to music makes for a good sing along
The World's great songs were born of poems that rhyme
The musical words do stand the test of time

A good rhyming poem is memorable and easy to recite
But surely is never easy for the poet for to write
Many of the rhyming poems of Burns alive in song today
The music in his words will never fade away

Though the breath of life from them forever has long gone
The great rhyming bards their poems are living on
Mangan and Burns, Masefield, Service and Clare
With literary history's greats these great poets do compare

A good rhyming poem is one destined to live
Such pleasure to the masses it does give
It is indeed a  joyous and a pleasurable  thing
When the music in the words to you does sing.

Near Where The Waters Of The Hopkins

The silver bill magpie pipes on a gum tree
Where old Hopkins River crawls down to the sea
Near the end of it's journey from it's source far away
It ever creeps onwards by night and by day
The familiar and distinctive call of the pied pee wee
In the still morning air is sweet music to me
In the paddocks of Warrnambool Spring has spread her green
And Nature's wildflowers plentiful to be seen
'Tis early September the morning is calm and cool
Two miles from the C B D of  Warrnambool
The song of the blackbird melodious and clear
He sings at his best at this time of the year
Where  the waters of the Hopkins crawls on silently
Near the end of it's journey at the Pacific sea.

Thursday, September 8, 2011

I'm A lucky Man

I'm not an asset to Country or to any bank
But for my lack of money i have myself to thank
One can say as success goes i have drawn a blank
Which keeps me at the bottom of the social rank
Though my worth as a person i have reason to doubt
I have plenty in my life for to smile about
I never go to bed hungry and my health is okay
I have heaps to be thankful for it does seem this way
I've never known what it is like to be homeless or to be a refugee
There are millions of people far worse off than me
And since i'm not the poorest of all in the town
I have little reason to feel sad and down
Close to my sixty fifth birthday of time quite a span
Life has been kind to me i'm a lucky man.

This Feeling Of Nostalgia

This feeling of nostalgia beyond me to explain
In fancy i hear the robin singing in the drizzling rain
When Spring is in the leafy grove and the fields are decked with flowers
And the countryside lush and quite green after recent April showers
In my dreams i hear the dipper singing in the upland rill
That babbles to the river down the high fields by the hill
Memories of walks in the old fields remain with me to enjoy
Where i gazed on Nature's beauty with the wonderment of a boy
Some say the now is all that matter this very well may be
But life would be very boring without our gift of memory
The nostalgia that is sleeping it sometimes does awake
And in fancy i hear the wild duck quacking in the mountain lake
The shy cock pheasant cucking where the rank rushes grow
And the tiny brown dunnock singing midst the foliage of the hedgerow.

Wednesday, September 7, 2011

The Mother Of Creation

The giver and taker of life than her there's none as great
The writers and the artists in their works her do celebrate
Unlike her every life form not for her mortality
The mother of creation far older than history

Us humans like her Seasons to life come and from go
Our lives are numbered in years and time becomes our foe
In fact the only known immortal and fact does never lie
And like all of her other life forms us humans born to die

Her ways are far too complex for us to understand
Her creations are amazing her oceans and land
Her deserts and her mountains, her forests, fertile lands and waterways
The beauty she does create never ceases to amaze

To destroy the strongest built human structures in her she has the power
Yet she can create things of beauty such as a tree, grass or a flower
She does even create life forms out of mortal decay
And excepting her for every other form of life a final night and day.

Old Stefan

The years have left him looking weary and gray
The old bloke from stockholm from here far away
He will end his days under an Aussie sky
Far south of Sweden even as the bird does fly
His Aussie wife Kate in her eternal rest lay
The bond of love between them even on her last day
And the years are showing on octogenarian  Stefan
Though he looks well for one in the twilight of his life span
On his eighty fourth year his best days he has seen
His oldest great grandchild a dad at nineteen
An aged migrant one without regret
There are years of living on old Stefan yet
On the sixth of august next year he will be eighty five
His favourite saying is 'tis great to be alive.

Though Wrong To Me

Though wrong to me they may have wilfully done
I feel no desire for to hate anyone
Or poisoning my thoughts by bearing a grudge
I will leave them to Karma for to be their judge
Though wrongs against me i find hard to forgive
With feelings of bitterness i could not live
Since hatred can lead one to serious crime
On such negative feelings why waste precious time
I will say again what i have said before
I just want to live and let live nothing more
Thoughts of an eye for an eye does not interest me
Harbouring of grudges one of the worst forms of mind poverty
Though wrong to me may have been wilfully done
I feel no desire for to hate anyone.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

On A Starving Seal Pup

It lay there on the jetty it's bones showing through it's skin
I have not see many animals as malnourished and thin
As the seal pup in Warrnambool on this balmy Spring day
His life may be a brief one it is looking this way
So many Australian fur seals do not outlive the puppy stage
Only the strongest and fittest live to an adult age
In Nature 'tis survival of the fittest that is how 'tis meant to be
For all of the world's life forms on land as well as sea
The strongest and the fittest their genes will live on
Their descendants the future of their species when the life from them has gone
The hungry seal pup at Warrnambool for to breed may not survive
By december's calendar summer it may not be alive
But where there is life there is hope as some are known to say
And this too applies to the starving seal pup at Warrnambool's Lady Bay.

About People

About people i learn something new every day
Some i thought were dishonest i found not to be that way
In my dealings with them i found them to be honest as the word can be
To pre judge people by looks now seems all wrong to me
About people of late i have come to realize
That some in their ways never cease to surprise
To be judged by appearance ought not to be anyone's due
That looks can deceive i now know to be true
Some i thought were not to be trusted are honest and kind
The reality to me a surprise to find
Yet how wrong of me to judge in the first place
By one's mannerisms or by appearance of face
About people i learn something new every day
In life we never stop learning it does seem this way.

Monday, September 5, 2011

Nature's Greatest Poet

Nature's greatest poet of the English language is arguably John Clare
For descriptive poetry on natural life forms with him few to compare
Yet he died in Northampton Asylum in dire poverty
How very sad indeed for some life can be
Of the most memorable poems on Nature he wrote some of the best
Great poems such as The Fox and The Badger, The Landrail and The Thrush's Nest
But the author of these poems led a tragic life
Far from his Village of Helpston and his children and Patty his wife
For him in his lifetime never a hooray
Yet one of the greatest poetic observers of Nature it would be fair to say
That lady luck in life was not on his side
Of any happiness by mental illness he was denied
Yet his legacy to humanity great poems for others to enjoy
The great Bard of Helpston the poor farmer's boy.

The True Gentleman

Devoted to his long term wife with her now he does lay
The true gentleman he was buried today
His children and grandchildren and his friends at his graveside did weep
For one who died peacefully in bed in his sleep
Devoted to his friends one who loved his family and his wife
To many he was a role model in life
Of  life he had lived for eight decades of years
A man who was well worthy of parting tears
For him bonfires never did blaze in the town
To be a good person his claim to renown
But of living a good life one who did succeed
Of more of his kind the Human World is in need
From life for him it was a painless release
The true gentleman may he now rest in peace.

Joy Too Goes Along

Her type does inspire the song writers to song
Where-ever she goes to joy too goes along
So beautiful looking and free of conceit
One nicer than her would be hard for to meet
Wavy shoulder length hair the colour of gold
With lovely big brown eyes one beautiful to behold
Yet of her striking beauty she does not seem aware
Young women nowadays like her to say the least rare
In her early twenties with time on her side
The wanderlust in her to travel far and wide
Unattached near her prime and of any care free
Some of the bigger World out there she is anxious to see
Her kind of woman inspires song writers to song
Where-ever she goes to joy too goes along.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

I Do Feel Lucky

For all of us there is a final day
And for me that cannot be too far away
Since i've seen many Seasons come and go
And time it has become my greatest foe
So good to be alive on this the first day of the southern calendar Spring
The great gift of life is such a marvellous thing
The green Goddess of Spring did creep in overnight
To silver bill magpie's fanfare in the pale moonlight
The first of September quite a pleasant day
The sun shines in the clouds of blue and gray
The blackbird's song so pleasant for to hear
It is indeed a lovely time of year
I do feel lucky as lucky as can be
That another Spring i have survived to see.

He Did Not Wish To Hear

I told of my problems to one i did know
Though any sympathy for me he did not show
He said to me seems like your problems have grown
But i do have heaps of worries of my own
I should have realized from him not to expect sympathy
As he has more worries by far than me
Made redundant of late with three young children and a wife and a huge house mortgage to pay
Compared to him financially i am doing okay
I am not the poorest fellow in the town
But small worries always seem to get me down
And though financially cash strapped and low in self esteem
Poverty can be relative so it does seem
One doing it quite tough to me he made it clear
Of my problems he did not wish for to hear.

The Love Of A Mother

They may be in prison for wrong they have done
But the mother does stand by her daughter and son
Though they have brought shame on the family name
She will not disown them despite their ill fame
She stands by her offsprings though from grace they did fall
The love of a mother the greatest love of all
Than all of loves a greater love never known
The mother her children will never disown
Though they may have brought upon themselves disgrace
In her mind they always retain pride of place
Despite their sins them she will never deny
The children she gave birth to she always stands by
The love of a mother stands the test of time
It has inspired writers to story and rhyme.

Saturday, September 3, 2011

The Second Last Day Of August

The hidden frogs sing in the watery drain
And the gray clouds of evening are pregnant with rain
The day it is cool just eleven degrees
And the currawongs calling on the higher trees

The second last day of August and Winter's end near
And the song of the blackbird is pleasant to hear
And the flute of the magpie to it has a melodious ring
Just thirty three hours from the calendar Spring

A voice familiar to many and familiar to me
In the town park the distinctive call of the pee wee
Male nesting birds are quite vocal with borders to defend
At this time of year males of their own kind to them not a friend

Behind the gray clouds the sun hidden away
On a cool but a typical late Winter's day
And tomorrow at midnight in her emerald gown
The Goddess of Spring will creep into the town.

The Wild One Irene

Around the World the havoc she wreaked on t v to be seen
The wild child of Nature her name was Irene
On the east coast of the U S she blew great buildings down
And left death and destruction behind her in many a city and town
The news of her destruction broadcast Worldwide
But by the time she reached New York she all but had died
The one who spread terror and caused tears and heartbreak
And left death and destruction behind her in her wake
Nature's wild child died after blowing herself tame
Though she will always be remembered the one known as Irene by name
In a few days and nights on life and property she took a heavy toll
The wild child of Nature was out of control
By viewers the results of her anger on t v Worldwide seen
Her name will live on forever the wild one Irene.


Perhaps i was born for to live in this way
For to pen a few more doggerels every day
The rhymes come to me i just pen them down
But not for financial gain or for renown
I started penning stuff in my physical prime
And that is going back many years in time
In the early Fall of nineteen seventy three
Rhyming has become an addiction with me
Just one of those an ageing rhyming buff
One you can say who has penned heaps of stuff
To rhyme is so easy as easy as can be
Cat rhymes with rat and bee rhymes with tree
Every day of the year rhymes i do write
My stuff free to read on an internet site.

Friday, September 2, 2011

At The World Championships

A siver or bronze medal a great achievement but something not all does choose
Where for the winners of gold so many have to lose
Out on supreme glory in sports greatest test
Amongst the World's elite athletes only one can be best
To be best in your Country is quite a big thing
And your praises your Country's fans feel proud to sing
Of your Country's athletes the best of the cream
But to be best in the World is everyone's dream
At the World Championships you ran your greatest race
But you feel disappointed you just lost out on third place
In your code of sport in your Country the number one athlete
And against the best in the World you heroically did compete
And though you feel disappointed a bronze medal you did not win
To be fourth best in the World is never a sin.

You Can Be Like Kate

You have it in you for to be good and kind
Compassion and empathy if you search for you will find
In life it is said you must give to receive
Though not everyone on such  reasoning believe
You too can be like your unselfish neighbour Kate
Good karma for herself in life she does create
One who does her good deed or two every day
For to help those in need of helping she goes out of her way
One like her is an asset to humanity
A local leader in the fight against poverty
In life you give to receive is surely not a lie
You too can be like Kate and so too can i
In a Human World where there is such a strong emphasis on commercialism and greed
Of more people like her we are badly in need.

In Fancy I Can Hear

In fancy i can hear the silver back crow
Cawing on highest branch of a beech tree near where Finnow waters flow
Through fields flat and rushy babbling on it's way
On towards the Blackwater bound for Youghal Bay
'Tis not very hard for one to visualize
In the gray of the dawn just before sunrise
The robin does sing on the sycamore tree
The memories of what was does remain with me
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
The past may be gone but the memories remain
And in fancy i walk in the old fields again
And the dipper does sing in the silver tongued rill
Flowing down to the river from the field by the hill.

Thursday, September 1, 2011

I Am One Of Those

I am one of those low in the social rank
Due to a credit card owing money to a bank
But i do laugh and in the shower i do sing
And i have lived for to see another Spring
There are millions who are far worse off than i
Of hunger left slowly for to starve and die
Life is tough for many in the bigger World out there
And poor people are to be found everywhere
Many do daydream of great wealth and renown
Who would wish to be the poorest of the town
For to be a loser anyone would never choose
But in life for every winner many have to lose
I am lucky to have a roof over my head
And i never envy people who are dead.

Beer, Football And Women

His life revolves around women and beer and football
He only works because he needs money since work does not interest him at all
On saturday he goes to the football to urge his favourite team on
And after the game he goes to the local pub to drink with his mates Joe, Andy and Ron
And Later he goes to the disco which usually ends for him in a love making night
As long as he has beer, football and women all things for him in life all right
But monday is not his favourite day since work is not his favourite thing
He needs the money for the weekend and the praises of work he never does sing
'Tis need for money that keeps him working he hopes for a huge lotto win
If his daydream for him does come true he will quickly pack the job in
A young man in his early twenties at the doorstep of his life's prime
He does make the most of his weekend one who loves to have a good time
He enjoys going to the pub and discos making love and watching his team play football
But talk of work to him sounds boring the most boring subject of all.

Since On Karma

For my sins against others there will be some price to pay
What goes around does come around since this is karma's way
Karma applies to everyone and not alone to me
Though with this way of thinking many may not agree
I am struggling financially my self esteem is low
It must be true what's said of life we do reap what we sow
Suppose this is my karma for my sins of the past
I am growing older and poorer and time on me is ticking fast
Your karma i hope it is better than mine
That you do eat well and drink expensive wine
I did have my chances that i won't deny
But them i did not seize i let them go by
The fruits of the seeds i have sown i now do receive
Since on karma i am one who does firmly believe.