Tuesday, December 31, 2013

On The Tall Eucalyptus Trees

On the tall eucalyptus trees in the fading twilight
Long bill corellas are squawking as they settle for the night
A large flock of them squawking together on the nerves can grate
But this is how corellas with each other communicate
The neighbor annoyed by their squawking uses his air gun to try to scare them away
Whilst some of them fly off most of them stay
The popping noise of the air gun only some of them scare
That the air gun will not harm them many of them have become aware
They grow silent when darkness spreads across the sky
And the only sounds one does hear are the male possum's hoarse cry
And the calling of a boobook owl on the trees nearby
Birds that in daylight to venture out are too shy
When night creatures are sleeping creatures that rest by day
Are out searching for food Nature works on this way.

Those With A Sense Of Honor

Those with a sense of honor in honor take pride
Behind a cloak of falseness such people never do hide
Their word is their bond and on keeping their word they insist
If everyone were like them written contracts would not exist
To their higher selves they do remain true
And great credit for this they surely are due
Their word is their bond and true to their word they remain
Even though in their word for them no financial gain
If everybody had honor of written contracts there would not be any need
But the greatest barrier to honor is of course human greed
When i say people who stick to their word are and were always few
On this i am not saying anything that is new
Truly honorable people one can only admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire.

In Your Memories

In your memories the home you were raised in does take pride of place
It is back to there your first memories in life you can trace
I have seen aging migrants very close to tears
For their first home in life they had not seen for years
The alcohol stirred up old feelings of nostalgia that had not died
Though in the World out there they had traveled far and wide
The nostalgia for what was in them latent does remain
That the alcohol in them stirs to life again
Old memories die hard as the wise one did say
They linger in you though time has left you gray
Time may ease the ache of homesickness but nostalgia never does die
For to say otherwise would be telling a lie
I have seen grown men hardened by life the tears struggle to contain
At old memories the alcohol had brought to life again.

Monday, December 30, 2013

It Does Seem A Sad Thing

It does seem a sad thing for to have to say
That the gap between the poor and the wealthy is growing wider by the day
Not alone in poor Countries but in Lands Worldwide
There are millions at the wrong end of the social divide
In the twenty first century it does not seem right
That millions of children are sleeping rough tonight
Of a successful future for them little chance
The poor and sad victims of bad birth circumstance
Many of them with drug addicted parents serving time in jail
The poorest of the poor who are born to fail
In a world where millions live in dire poverty
It is wrong that a minority own the majority of the wealth would you not agree?
Many hungry and homeless children are sleeping rough tonight
In the twenty first century this does not seem right.

I Have Written The Rhymes

I have written the rhymes of the far away hills
And the streams and the creeks and the rippiling rills
That flow to the river bound for the ocean shore
Nature is eternal and is forever more

I have written the rhymes of people i have known
Dear friends of the past i could never disown
And i have written of Nature the animals, birds and bees
And the grass and the flowers and the bushes and trees

I have written the rhymes that are not hard to write
That are easy to understand memorize and recite
It must be my addiction for i rhyme every day
With rhyme words i am one who does like to play

I have been penning stuff for four decades of years
The rhymes that are born of laughter and tears
If i said i did not enjoy doing it this would be a lie
And i hope to be doing it till the day i do die

I have written the rhymes of the woodland and lake
Of birdsong in the fields at evening and daybreak
And though my best years in life to the forever gone
I do enjoy rhyming and i hope to rhyme on.

The Brown Hills Of South Gippsland

The brown hills of South Gippsland from me may seem far away
But in fancy i do visit them every day
And i hear the birds sing in the bushes and trees
In the cool of the day in the freshening breeze

Above the countryside bordering Toora Town
The old hills of Toora are looking quite brown
The subject of story and song and of rhyme
They were very old even in the Dreamtime

By Inverloch through the coastal lands to Venus Bay
The brown Tarwin waters babble on their way
It has flowed forever and will forever more
On it's long winding journey to the Pacific shore

Above the mudflats of McLoughlins beach in the clear blue sky
The dappled brown eastern curlews do sing as they fly
From the cold Winter of Siberia they journey down to the southern Spring
The workings of Nature is an amazing thing

The brown hills of South Gippsland once familiar to me
From the high Loch-Wonthaggi road the ocean one can see
From where i now live they may seem far away
But in fancy i do visit them every day.

Sunday, December 29, 2013

It Is Cold Today In Duhallow

In the gray fogs of rain Clara hidden away
It is cold in the fields west of Millstreet today
The streams bank high to the river in brown flood waters flow
And the cold wind is soughing in the naked hedgerow

In late December in Duhallow at the end of the old year
The chirping of the migratory redwings in the bare groves one does hear
Close to the coldest time of Winter many weeks from the Spring
When the grass will commence growing and the nesting birds will sing

And the cattle out of wintering sheds on months of living on silage and hay
On the nutritious grass of April will gain weight by the day
And the hawthorns in their pinkish buds that will bloom white to gray
When Nature is at her finest in the  time of bloom in May

It is cold today in Duhallow just west of Millstreet Town
And the streams to the rivers flowing bank high in flood waters of brown
On the cold and wet days after Christmas another year almost gone
Just a few sleeps before New Year and the clock is ticking on.

The Better Man Than Me

A good side to everyone he only seems to see
I like him for his non judgmental ways the better man than me
I have never heard him in his words put anybody down
A credit to his neighborhood and to his side of the town
A quietly spoken gentleman never has that much to say
One that i do see often though not every day
He lives a quiet sort of a life to many he is not known
And he does not seem to have a tribe he is always on his own
He once told me he is two times a grandfather his wife of forty years died three years ago
That she was the soul mate of his life and he does miss her so
One who has loved Mother Nature since he was a young boy
Watching and studying the ways of birds is something he does enjoy
A darker side to anyone he never seems to see
I only can look up to him the better man than me.

Make The Most Of The Now

From past experience it is said lessons in life we do gain
But only the memories of what was with us does remain
Tomorrow is coming and yesterday has gone
And we live in the now and time is ticking on
From the passing of time i look balder and gray
And for me like all others there will be a last night and day
For a decades of years a man and a woman are in their physical prime
And the Seasons passed quickly on looking back in time
Many young people plan for the decades ahead
Without realizing they soon may be with the dead
As mortals we age like the dog, sheep or cow
So try to live as happy and make the most of the now
On life it is true there is no guarantee
Tomorrow it may not dawn for you and it may not dawn for me.

Saturday, December 28, 2013

The Old Barwon River

Generations of people to life have come to and from life have gone
But the old Barwon waters to the ocean flows on
The river that has inspired song, story and rhyme
That has flowed to the Pacific through the centuries of time

Long before it was given the Barwon it's given name
And centuries before the first people to Australia came
And centuries before the Town was built that is known as Barwon Heads today
The river to the ocean slowly flowed on it's way

On through Barwon Heads to the Pacific shore
The Barwon does flow and will forever more
As it nears saltwater deep, dark and slow
Devoid of a babble it silently does flow

On through Barwon Heads by night and by day
The river to the Pacific silently flows on it's way
For as long as the southern winds have been blowing
The old Barwon River to the sea has been flowing.

The Beautiful People

I am lucky in life it does seem this way
With the beautiful people i meet every day
Though the World of their type is in need of far more
My faith in humanity they help to restore
Such beautiful people i feel privileged to know
The seeds of good Karma every day they do sow
Always willing to help those who of help are in need
They are kind and beautiful people indeed
They do not wish to be celebrated or to be admired
But of singing their praises i could never grow tired
They may not be amongst the celebrated of the town
But they are always willing to help anyone financially or mentally down
To describe them i do not have the words to say
The beautiful and selfless people i do meet every day.

I Am Just An Amateur Rhymer

I am just an amateur rhymer and at that not well known
But i can say in truth that my rhymes are my own
To the twelve thousand plus i have written i add more every day
Addicted to rhyming it does seem this way
I never refer to myself as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
I only say here what i have said before
I write for my own enjoyment and little else more
Since in it for me there is not fame or pay
If i did not enjoy rhyming i would give it away
The sort of rhymes i do pen a young child could write
They are simple in structure and easy to read memorize and recite
My physical best days in life to the forever gone
But for as long as i can do i will keep rhyming on.

Friday, December 27, 2013

Christmas Day In Koroit In 2013

Christmas Day in south west Victoria and few cars pass up and down
On Commercial Road the main street of quiet old Koroit Town
The shops and pubs closed for the day perhaps the quietest of the year
On a day that is warm and sunny the sky is blue and clear
A weather forecast high for the day of twenty nine degrees
And warmth in the sunshine with only a slight breeze
After their Christmas dinner many Koroitians to keep cool
Will drive to nearby beaches in Port Fairy, Killarney and Warrnambool
Koroit like every other town is quiet on Christmas day
Though after their Christmas dinner in the park family cricket some families play
And some families after their Christmas dinner swap stories of Christmases long gone
The Christmas spirit in Koroit is alive and will live on
And for as long as there is a Koroit in the south west Victoria countryside
By the spirit and traditions of the Season Koroitians will abide.

Mortlake's Rose

With shoulder length wavy hair of chestnut brown
The most beautiful woman in old Mortlake Town
With eyes as dark blue as ripe Autumn sloes
She does deserve the title of Mortlake's Rose
Single in her early twenties near the prime of her life
The type young men do dream of when they dream of a wife
But in Mortlake where she first looked on the lamp of day
There for a few more months she will only stay
It looks like her future it will be elsewhere
In one of the big cities of the big World out there
For one of twenty two going on twenty three
In the bigger World out there many places to see
Down to earth and attractive and slender and tall
In Mortlake Town she is the fairest of all.

In The Age Of The Selfie

We are in the age of the selfie where self centeredness for many does seem the in thing
The people who do crave attention their own praises they only sing
They take love of self to the extreme their favorite words me, myself and i
They do not grow kinder but older as self centered they live and will die
Self love in moderation is a good thing but too much of it to narcissism can lead
Of humble and down to earth people one much does not hear of or read
Some love to be the center of attention they love to be in the limelight
Wherever the media are present they never do hide out of sight
That we are in the age of the selfie only happens for to be true
Some people they do crave attention they feel in life this is their due
They seek the admiration of others and carry love of self to the extreme
One must say what does this say of them do they suffer of low self esteem?
The World seems to revolve around them with them it is me, myself and i
To say their egos need to be inflated of them would be telling a lie.

Thursday, December 26, 2013

It Is Not Life But Myself

When i am in the dark mood that borders despair
I say to myself life to me is unfair
But later in a reflective mood it occurs to me
That it is not life that creates my reality
For my own reality i only have myself to blame
Low self esteem never leads one to wealth and fame
For me decisions life does never make
Responsibility for my living circumstances i myself have to take
As the wise one does say life does not owe us a thing
And self pity a change in luck to you never does bring
The one who blames life when financially down
Will never become the wealthiest one in the town
I tend to blame life for my dark moods bordering despair
But is is not life but myself that to me is unfair.

Australia's Magpie Larks

The dainty black and white birds whose song sounds much like pee wee
The most endearing magpie larks so pretty for to see
They build their cup shaped nest of mud on low branch of a tree
Familiar birds to many and familiar birds to me
Well known in every neighborhood one sees them every day
They allow one get quite close to them before they fly away
Perhaps Australia's easiest to study birds they do seem almost tame
To be so well known to people one of their great claims to avian fame
They sing pee wee pee wee on all Seasons on weather wet or fine
I love them for their confiding ways these favorite birds of mine
Birds that one often does see in your backyard the park or on the street
They are not hard to get to know and are always nice to meet
Pee wee pee wee echoes at daybreak in the suburban park
The voice that none ought to mistake of Australia's magpie lark.

Barwon Heads

In the cafes the holidaymakers relax with cake and tea
In the Town where the Barwon flows into the sea
As a holiday resort Barwon Heads is well known
A big rural coastal Town with a charm of it's own
A coastal part of Victoria that many hold dear
And they spend a few weeks there in January every year
By the mouth of the Barwon the great waterway
In a nice place to spend one's Summer holiday
The lure of the sea side Town cannot be denied
People come to Barwon Heads from places far and wide
Where the weather on most days of the year is fine
And scarce a day there that does not have sunshine
As nice a Town of that one could wish to know
Where the Barwon into the Pacific does flow.

Wednesday, December 25, 2013

You May Feel That

You may feel that luck is against you but you are just one of  many in the World of today
Who feels by life they are hard done by since nothing seems to be going their way
But everyone have their good and their bad days this is how life is meant to be
Today things are not going well for you tomorrow things may not go well for me
If every day for us was a good day happiness we would not appreciate
The one who is well used of losing a win with gusto celebrate
Not many wish to spend time talking to the one with the forlorn face
Amongst a group of happy people such a person does seem out of place
I know you are having a bad day but such days to our lives come and go
Tomorrow for you may be better at least one can only hope so
It is true when you laugh the whole World laughs with you and when you cry you cry on your own
Yet even the happiest of people some sad days in their lives have known
You may feel that luck is not with you this for you is not a good day
But everyone know of good and bad times since life is meant to be this way.

For My Own Enjoyment

There is not money or fame for me in the rhymes i do write
And regularly email to an internet site
Amongst internet bloggers not one to the fore
I just write rhymes for my own enjoyment and little else more
I write easy to write stuff as most would agree
And every day the rhymes keep coming to me
And though my worth as a rhymer at times i do doubt
Never a shortage of rhyming material for me to write rhymes about
Since in it for me no glory or monetary pay
I have been advised by some to give rhyming away
But to their unsolicited advice i never pay any heed
Since to pen more rhymes in me there is the need
My physical best years in the forever gone
But true to my calling i will keep rhyming on.

Perhaps I Won't See Old Duhallow Again

Perhaps i won't see old Duhallow again
And hear the birds sing in the drizzling rain
When the mild April winds from the mountains do blow
And the stream bank high in brown flood to the river does flow
A stranger in Duhallow today i might be
Where many would not know or know of me
I left there in December in eighty six a time of year when grass refuse to grow
And the Boggeragh Hills were in their hats of snow
On looking back the Seasons this does seem long ago
And time that rusts iron has become my foe
The wanderlust in me for places elsewhere
To see a small part of the big World out there
And i did not return to Duhallow in Spring
When the fields wear their flowers and the nesting birds sing.

Tuesday, December 24, 2013

Old Heroes

In their young years they were fearless and proved themselves brave
But old heroes will only find peace in the grave
They still bear their old grudges against the old foe
That they carry from battles they fought in many decades ago

They refuse to allow patriotism to fade
As they shuffle uptown after the citizen band in the war day parade
On their coat lapels their medals for their war bravery they do display
With applause from the admiring onlookers they shuffle on their way

Up to the war memorial where after the speeches the last post is played
In their young years they marched to battle of death unafraid
They may have grown old and tired but their big egos intact does remain
And if they were asked to they would go to war again

I have been told by patriots and nationalist that they risked their lives for the likes of me
But with their sort of rhetoric of course i did not agree
There would not be wars to fight in if men refused to fight
And as is said two wrongs  never does make a right

Applauded by their proud descendants and their admiring old wives as they shuffle on their way
The years have left them looking weary and feeble and gray
The clock ticking on to their last night and day
Old heroes die hard as the wise one did say

But since i am one not devoid of empathy
For the aged war heroes i can feel sympathy
As boys they watched old war heroes on parade
And this is how patriots and war men are made.

On Hearing A Willy Wagtail Singing At Night

I heard the willy wagtail in the moonlight
Singing his familiar ditty in the calm of the night
Also known as the black and white fantail or the Australian nightingale
The singing duties as in most birds belong to the male
At every few hourly intervals i did awake
But he kept on singing until after daybreak
In his breeding Season with borders to defend
Willy does not even trust his own kind as a friend
Medium sized flycatchers of Australia that are widely known
The willy wagtails have a charm of their own
For birds of their size they display great bravery
They try to drive bigger birds such as magpies out of their territory
Their tails ever wagging as they scan for flies
In their breeding Season they sing all night until after sunrise.

That Poverty Can Be Relative

You do always find some reason for to complain
Yet you have never known the feeling of hunger pain
And you have never been homeless as many poor people are
Where real poverty is one does not need to walk far

And poverty does come in varying degrees
In a World of millions of refugees
By drought and by war from their home regions displaced
Far greater challenges in life than you have these poor people have faced

Yes poverty is relative as we all know too well
Of your own hard life you only have stories to tell
But compared to the hardship endured by many in life you are doing okay
Though obviously you do not see it this way

The hard life you think you have in your own mind you only create
But then self centered people to self only relate
A homeless poor person with your sort of lifestyle would be well satisfied
That poverty is relative cannot be denied

You have never experienced real poverty yet in your mind
You have formed the opinion that life to you is unkind
Though to find worse off than you one would not need to walk far
But having this said suppose we are what we are.

Monday, December 23, 2013

The Wise Are Few

There are many educated people in the World who are known to be knowledgeable on various subjects too
Who for a living are gainfully employed and good at the work that they do
These things as we know are important in life and respect to them for this is due
Suppose you cannot be true to anyone if to your own self you cannot be true
But this is only one aspect of  living life for to live as a good person a beginning that is all
Some people who earn their living in the honest way in some of their ways can be quite small
Truly honorable people are in minority not many to be found anywhere
Though in search of them you may travel far and wide in the bigger World out there
True goodness it is quite a relative thing what is relative to some to others may not apply
And that there are many good living people in the World is something one cannot deny
Yet people of wisdom the rarest of all one does not have to be well educated for to be wise
That wisdom and education little in common do share is something many do not seem to realize
And when i say that wisdom when it comes to people is at a premium i am not saying anything that is new
For there are many who are well educated but the wise now as they were always are few.

Go Sing It Again Eugene Brosnan

Go sing it again Eugene Brosnan i sure do love his solstice song
By him so well rendered and so well written up there with the best he belong
In Millstreet an old Town in Duhallow where he grew into a young man
The lust of the wander was in him and from there the journey to fame for him began

Eugene is a well traveled fellow one who does have fans Worldwide
That he is a talented musician and singer songwriter of him cannot be denied
He has traveled all over Europe and sung in venues in many a city and town
Success in life does not come easy it is a hard climb to renown

Far beyond the borders of Duhallow Eugene is famous and well known
He is not one who sings many covers most of the songs he does sing are his own
In Millstreet there may not be one again quite like him since entertainers like him are quite rare
In his genre he has been quite successful and with the best he does compare

He has the gifts of song and music one who has brought to so many joy
Far beyond the borders of Duhallow and Millstreet where he lived as a boy
Go sing it again Eugene Brosnan from Murphy's Terrace he has traveled far
He has progressed to playing in the big venues from the local club and public bar.

Pat Kelly

The principal teacher in Millstreet boys primary school of time quite a span
In Millstreet Town he first saw light of day and grew into a man
And in Coomlogane they raised their children he and Patricia his devoted wife
Pat Kelly will be missed from Millstreet where he lived all of his life

A prominent member of the working committee of the Millstreet Coursing Club for many years
Pat Kelly's passing in Millstreet would not have gone without tears
His great love of greyhounds came from his long deceased father Joe
Who owned, bred and trained track and coursing dogs decades ago

He followed Bill Keeffe as principal of Millstreet Boys Primary School when in his life's prime
A teacher and mentor to generations of Millstreet boys going way back in time
Well liked and respected and in Duhallow well known
Pat Kelly was surely one of Millstreet's own

In his late sixties or early seventies when he drew his life's final breath
One loved by many in life who will not be forgotten in death
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's where many of the deceased of Millstreet lay
Forever in peace he is with them today.

Sunday, December 22, 2013

For To Commit Words To Paper

The rhymes i have written may not be much good
But at least they can easily be understood
Since rhymes they are never that hard for to write
And are easy to read, memorize or recite
Though it is a gift that i could do without
Never a shortage of things for me to write rhymes about
On this warm day in December of over thirty degrees
The air full of the buzzings of flies and of bees
So humid this sort of weather without any breeze
The cattle shelter from the sun in the shade of the trees
One might say of this quite a nice swimming day
For to cool the body and wash the sweat away
And to keep cool lay in the trees shade and in a relaxed mood write rhyme
For to commit words to paper this would be a good time.

We Do Spend Too Much Time

We do spend too much time worrying on what others of us do say
Without realizing their opinions hardly matter anyway
Since others opinions only just that and how their judgements affect you
Does seem to say more of you than words can ever do
Since many of those with good public images personality deception know how to play
Their true selves from others they manage to keep hidden away
That to be flawed is to be human some do fail to realize
And the one who does not care what others think of him or her one in ways who is quite wise
Those who pass judgement on others suffer of low self esteem
Their way of avoiding self analysis or so it does seem
There is truth in the old saying of live and let live
For you cannot receive good things in life if good things you do not give
And those who say unkind things of you to them do not pay any heed
Since for their own Karma they are planting the seed.

St Leonards

A beautiful place to live in for a long stay
For the quieter life and there grow old and gray
Or even for to visit or a short holiday
St Leonards by the ocean from where i live far away

No matter your color black or white or brown
You will find St Leonards quite a welcoming Town
The people there do not differentiate between nationality or race
They do make St Leonards quite a welcoming place

Every year St Leonards by the sea more new friends does gain
And many return to there to visit and holiday again
For it's hospitable people  it has become known far and wide
The people of St Leonards in their Town take great pride

In a Town where no factory chimney puff black smoke to the sky
The lure of St Leonards none ought to deny
Where Nature and humans live in harmony
In that unpolluted and beautiful Town by the sea.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

Not Easy To Satisfy

Three months ago the then Government by the voters were voted out
Of their dissatisfaction with them they did not leave them in doubt
But going by the latest opinion polls the newly elected Government have nothing to celebrate
If an election were held tomorrow of their predecessors theirs would be the same fate
That the electorate of their Government quickly grow dissatisfied
In the early years of the twenty first century cannot be denied
The political party that was very popular three months ago most unpopular today
That people are not easy to satisfy it does seem this way 
The present Government have almost three years of their contract with the people for to run
But now they realize that Governing the Country is not much fun
The majority of the voters now sorry to power they voted them in
Nowadays in politics the trust of the majority is becoming harder to win
It is a fact of life and fact one cannot deny
That people are not easy to satisfy.

In December

In the nearby paddock the sweet scent of grass that has been mowed for hay
And the rose trees covered in beautiful roses on this nice Summer day
White butterflies dancing in the gentle breeze
In the sunlit park around the bushes and trees
And Nature looking green after recent rain
With such pleasant weather one cannot complain
On the paddock fence willy wagtail does sing
His distinctive little song is a familiar thing
The magpies lay on the grass to take in the sun birds too love basking in the sunshine
A weather forecast high for the day of a warm twenty nine
Many birds are familiar by their chirp or their song
And the coarse song of the mynas one cannot get wrong
In this place that to Earthly Utopia is near
In December a beautiful time of the year.

He Is Hardly An Honorable Fellow

Though society sees him as a good person since he leads a materially successful life
He is hardly an honorable fellow since he beats his children and his wife
His wife often seen in dark glasses to hide from view the swelling around her eyes
That there is a dark side to many a successful fellow should not come as any surprise
In the twenty first century to be short of money seen as shameful but for some men to beat their wives and children allowances far too often made
Sad to think that such unlawful actions from the memory seem quick for to fade
In the twenty first century kindness and compassion are not what they once used to be
In the eyes of many they are out of fashion and that does seem sad would you not agree
In the Human World where the accumulation of money is seen as an important thing
The praises of the wealthy and famous the gullible masses do sing
We are in the time when the kind and the caring the people who do their good deeds every day
Are not seen as community leaders though they help others for love not for pay
He is looked up to by the town's impressionable to them a role model of life
Though he is far from a good person since he beats his children and wife.

Friday, December 20, 2013

Nature Forever Lives On

In a World of billions of people the Earth has more mouths for to feed
And billionaires exploiting the Planet's resources for to satiate their greed
The mine owners make billions in money in profit yet any taxes do not want to pay
And poor people are dying of the hunger in drought ravaged regions every day
With the billions of poor people of the World the super wealthy do not wish to share
Though there are a few generous super rich people to say the least their type are rare
The future does not look very peaceful with threats of war about religion and borders and access to water and oil
Worldwide the pot of trouble is simmering and will eventually come to a boil
The future it is looking gloomy for the poor of the World of today
Far too many hungry and homeless people which does seem a sad thing to say
The unequal distribution of wealth in the World condemning more to dire poverty
In a fair and equal Human World something like this would never be
Greedy men keep stealing from Nature her resources one must wonder how long this can go on
Extinction too can be for humans but Nature forever lives on.

Some People With Their Words

Some people with their words can be cruel and unkind
In verbally putting down others pleasure they do find
Afflicted by low self worth and low self esteem
By their very words this is how they do seem
They do lack in compassion and in empathy
And are arrogant and ignorant as ignorant can be
Such people in their ways are so very small
And not that much for to like in them at all
Those who find joy in their words on putting others down
Do never become the best loved in the town
They seem to forget you will never make a friend
Of the one you deliberately choose to offend
To such people i never have much to say
Except when i meet them to wish them good day.

A Woman From Fermoy

She will never again see old Fermoy Town
Where she used to live when her hair was dark brown
But good memories of there with her does remain
And the Cork accent she brought with her she does retain

Life in the big World out there she yearned for to see
So she left Fermoy Town when she was twenty three
This is going back some two decades ago
And as we know time becomes everyone's foe

Single in her early forties her best years long gone
And time never wait it does tick on and on
Her hair visibly greying she looks well for her years
Though she is one who has known misfortune and tears

Her mum and dad are deceased they did not live to be old
And the family home by her sister at auction was sold
Never more to see Fermoy in Australia she will stay
For as long as she live till her last night and day

She does not have children or will never be any man's wife
A motor car accident ruined her life
Fifteen years in a wheelchair yet life she does enjoy
This beautiful person from distant Fermoy.

Monday, December 16, 2013

It Is All To His Due

In his younger years he used to daydream of football renown
The hard working man of the old rural town
And though he was voted the best player on ground on a long gone regional grand final day
For a far greater honor than that he was hoping for to play

Five times a grandfather he lives with his local born and raised wife
They have lived together for thirty two of his fifty seven years of life
Working for a concreting company he works hard for his every pay
His hair that was light brown twenty five years ago is now silver gray

To say that those who do not realize their life's dream are not in the few
To anyone would not be anything new
There are millions of them to be found everywhere
In every city and village and town in the big World out there

To wish to be famous and wealthy is not an unnatural thing
But the praises of the renowned few the majority are left to sing
He yearned to be a great A F L footballer but it is all to his due
That he can accept without regret that his dream for him did not come true.

Christmas Is For The Wealthy

A time of feasting and drinking and Santa and toys
And a joyful occasion for many young girls and boys
When they find their presents on the Christmas tree
So kind is old Santa and so full of generosity

But at Christmas some adults far too much alcohol do drink
Which does impair their ability for to think
And in the pubs at Christmas there is often a brawl
Alcohol can make small men feel sturdy and tall

Christmas a time of prayer and carol singing and supposed to be a time of peace
But for some it is a time of anger release
In war zones many do die on Christmas Day
As well as many homicides Worldwide so sad for to say

To the children of the displaced and the homeless Santa will not come this year
To where they live joy and peace is not anywhere near
For them this year there will not be turkey and cake
At a young age they know of hunger and heartache

Christmas is celebrated by people Worldwide
But sadly for many God is not on their side
The gap between the poor and the wealthy has never been so wide
And that Christmas is for the wealthy cannot be denied.

In The Park By The Bay

The blackbirds and magpies are singing in the park by the bay
And sun brightly shining in sky blue and gray
And wherever i turn to look i do see
The beauty of Nature that is all around me
On near perfect temperatures of twenty five degrees
The air is kept cool by the freshening breeze
The joy i do feel the words not in me to say
Of how great life can be on such a nice day
The park looking so green after the recent rain
With such splendid weather how can one complain
The birds who build cup shaped nest of mud on branch of tree
The magpie larks utter their familiar pee wee
And the sun shining bright on a nice Summer's day
On the old coastal town and the park by the bay.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

December By The Merri

December near to Christmas in the City of Warrnambool
And the happy echo of laughter in the deep dark Merri River pool
Of teenagers enjoying themselves in the evening sunshine
In weather warm and pleasant with a temperature high of twenty nine

How marvelous to be living on this nice Summer's day
Where the quiet deep Merri waters crawl on towards Lady Bay
Long before there was a City known as Warrnambool or long before the birth of rhyme
The waterway now known as The Merri flowed through the centuries of time

Where Australia's first people fished and hunted and had their corroborees
The people who had lived in the coastal lands for thousands of centuries
Under the scrub by the old river their hidden graves do lay
It is said their spirits living by The Merri today

The laughter of teenagers swimming a happy sound to hear
December by The Merri is such a lovely time of year
The beauty all around me in mental images i will retain
And store it in my memory for to visualize again.

What Is Or Is Not Poetry

What is or is not poetry not for me to tell
Since the poems i like reading by many of the literary critics dismissed as doggerel
And as we know literary critics do have literary degrees
And such things do not grow on bushes and trees
For many years i have been penning rhyming stuff
And for longer than that have been a rhyming buff
And since a simple rhymer is all i can be
What is or is not poetry why ask one like me?
Some people will tell you writers are born not made
Whilst others refer to literature as the wordsmith trade
And what is or is not poetry is a relative thing
Depends on whose praises you do like to sing
And what you like in literature does suit me fine
For this is your business and your business cannot be mine.

A Former Rose

In her twenties her shoulder length wavy hair was nugget brown
When she was the Rose of the old country town
But now in blonde hair dye she cloaks her silver gray
The divorced grandmother has known a far better day
From her old hometown in the countryside she lives far away
She is in the big city for the long stay
Quite attractive for one in her early sixties though physically better days she has known
Single without even a casual partner she now lives on her own
Perhaps never more to have a man in her life
For many years to an abusive ex husband she was a good wife
The Rose of her hometown thirty five years ago
Time eventually does become everyone's foe
The physical beauty of youth with one does not remain
Though for one in her sixth decade she looks better than plain.

Saturday, December 14, 2013

By Old Clara Today

In the gray fogs of rain the hills hidden away
It is cold in the fields by old Clara today
The deciduous trees without their leaves looking bare
In December in Duhallow sunshine is quite rare

The weather temperatures one below zero degrees
And the cold wind is soughing in the bushes and trees
Quite close to ten weeks from the calendar Spring
In bare Winter groves the wild birds never sing

In weather often wet and windy and cold enough to snow
The stream from the hill in brown flood waters flow
In the Claraghatlea fields from it's source in high Claramore
To the rivers that flow to the Atlantic shore

In Duhallow in December a cold time of year
The hills often snow clad and the sky seldom clear
The cattle in farm shed live on silage and hay
Their next feed of grass from them more than three months away

Quite close to Christmas and the new year and the old year getting old
In Duhallow in December the weather quite wet and cold
In the gray fogs of rain the hills hidden away
It is cold in the fields by old Clara today.

Time It Does Rust Iron

Time it does rust iron one ought not to forget
And the one who grows younger has not been born yet
This is something that is quite impossible and never will be
Since humans like all other life forms born to mortality
The fastest human being in the World of today Usain Bolt will eventually grow old
Though centuries after his death stories of his greatness will be told
But he too will grow older and like all others die
This a mere fact of life and fact never lie
Muhammad Ali the World heavyweight champion in his prime
Was arguably the greatest boxer of his time
Not many in the World who of him would not know
But time has left him feeling feeble and walking quite slow
On the great and the ordinary time ticks away
And for all of us there is a last night and day.

I Have Heard Old Joe Say

I have heard old Joe say at midnight the deceased of the town
From the cemetery on high street to the park walk down
And talk of the past when they lived in years gone by
In the still of the night under the starlit sky

He never does see them though to him they are near
Their voices and footsteps he often does hear
The familiar voices he says he does know
Of his mentors long before into a man he did grow

The locals say old Joe is not right in the head
That he imagines he hears the voices of the dead
There is something about him that just is not right
Since he often goes to the town-park at twelve in the night

But he always looks relaxed and quite sound mentally
At least anyway this is how he seems to me
That he can or cannot connect to the dead is not for me to say
Since everyone is gifted in some sort of a way

At midnight to the town-park he often does walk
Where the ghosts of the town cemetery meet for to talk
The deceased mentors of his boyhood seventy years ago
He knows them by their voices though they are invisible to Joe.

Friday, December 13, 2013

For Most Of Us

For most of us our existence revolves around the me, myself and i
And this includes me of that why should i lie
Suppose the selfish gene we do need to survive
As materially the self centered do seem to thrive
This is how it always was and is and always will be
In a Human World lacking in spiritual poverty
In a World of millions of homeless people and millions of refugees
The material wealth spread amongst the population to varying degrees
For every millionaire many are living rough
For millions survival is tougher than tough
In centuries from now the status quo will remain
And one person's loss will become to someone else a material gain
At least anyhow this is how it seems to me
But with this i am sure plenty would disagree.

Do Not Call Me Sir Or Mister

Do not call me sir or mister such titles not worthy of me
Just call me Frank, Francis or Francie since i do answer to all three
Sir and mister does seem a bit formal i am not into formality
Those who like titles to their names welcome suppose we all do see things differently
Where i was born and raised in sir and mister were titles to many unknown
But then in any given place the people there always have ways of their own
Titles such as dame, sir or even mister do have their sources in royalty
But the Reaper of lives does not respect titles we are all born to mortality
Some people may refer to you as sir, mrs, miss or mister if they do not know you by first name
But these are just forms of greeting like hello or good day much the same
Call me Frank, Francis or Francie these are names that i answer to
These are the names that i am known by and for me they ought to do
Perhaps to be called sir or mister by a stranger is quite okay
Though those i do not know i always do greet with a simple hello or good day.

The Moods Of The Mind

For years you have known your dark moods of despair
And you feel that life to you is rather unfair
Life has it's high points and low points it does seem this way
And the moods of the mind we deal with every day
Laughter is the best of medicine as the wise one did say
And what you need in your life is a few good laughs a day
As it does lift the spirits of the one who is down
Not much joy in life for a sad one of the town
The dregs of depression you may have known
But in that you surely are not on your own
The happy and carefree at all times are rare
Am i telling you something of which you are aware?
The dark moods of depression that you have come to know
Do block from the mind the happiness glow.

Thursday, December 12, 2013

Old Jim

When last he saw Nancy the old year was old
And the winds of December from the mountains blew cold
The dark clouds of rain were in the morning sky
She was tearful as he hugged and kissed her goodbye

He promised that he would return to her in the Spring
In the prime of the May when the nesting birds sing
But sadly for him it was not meant to be
In life there is a thing known as destiny

With shoulder length wavy dark hair and eyes of light brown
The prettiest young woman in the old country town
His only visual memory of her a photo that has known a better day
To her he did not return when the wildflowers bloomed in May

A man who knows of the good and bad days of life
Five years ago to cancer he lost his wife
A grandfather five times his best years long gone
In his early eighties and time on him ticking on

Memories of that letter from Nancy's mother are with him today
To tell him his young darling from life had passed away
In her twentieth year of an accident not even in her life's prime
Old Jim remembers that letter though since then six decades in time

Have ticked on and the years have left him looking frail and gray
And physically he has known a far better day
But he feels lucky to have known the love of two women in his life
The long deceased Nancy and Kathy his beloved wife.

On Hearing A Blackbird

When i hear a blackbird singing it always takes me far away
To my first home by the old stream in the dawn of a Spring day
A few hours before the sun shines in the sky of blue and gray
When the nesting birds are singing in the time of bloom in May
Though the past i do remember for it i have no more tears
The sweet song of a blackbird takes me back the long gone years
The memories of the young years in the migrant mind remain
And the song of a familiar bird brings them to life again
We only have the memories of the what used to be
But with that the now is all that matters i feel sure most would agree
Where everybody knew me and mine was a familiar face
Today i would be a stranger to many back in my first homeplace
The years go by so quickly and time does tick on fast
And only fading memories remain of the distant past.

The Wind Turbines Of Macarthur

They do spin quite loud on every windy night and day
And they can be heard from some distance away
The wind turbines of Macarthur at times loud in the extreme
To live near them must be hard on the ear drums or so it would seem

I was talking to a farmer who lives near them of the noise he did complain
He said they have left him dizzy in the brain
And that he and his wife and their young daughter never sleep well at night
And of the noise pollution an end not in sight

To many people wind turbines are something that is great
Since cheaper electricity they do create
But with their views on such the Macarthur farmer does not agree
They do not have to live near them he said to me

These huge electricity generators on the higher ground
On windy days and nights can be heard for miles around
With the people who live near them i can only empathize
As spinning in unison they create loud noise

On the hills of Macarthur they can be seen for miles about
And that they create cheaper electricity for the user does go without doubt
But a farmer who lives near them of them does not have any kind things to say
He said from our home i wish they were further away.

Wednesday, December 11, 2013


Worldwide politicians do seem much the same
The government blames the opposition the opposition the government does blame
For bad policies in the now and bad policies in the past
It looks like the blame game in politics forever will last

Politicians do look at life in a negative way
About members of opposite parties they seldom have kind things to say
Their views seldom impartial in politics the negative thrive
An honest person in politics would find it hard to survive

Ambiguous in their words and would you not agree
That most politicians are not known for their honesty
Yes honest politicians to say the least rare
Of lies most of them have told their own share

Parliamentarians often described as the honorable members though few of them honorable or just
Most politicians are not the type one ought to trust
Many of them ambiguous in their words few of them mean what they say
Suppose to survive in politics they have to be this way.

Our Own Stories To Tell

Though some of us materially not doing well
Of life we all have our own stories to tell
Of our good and bad days in Seasons now gone
The clocks on our lives ever keep ticking on
Some may tell you that success is a relative thing
But of the praises of paupers you will not hear many sing
This is how it always was and is and always will be
In life success linked to the accumulation of money would you not agree?
Though others on this may have different to say
This is how it does seem to me anyway
But to your own self you can only be true
And how you treat others in return they treat you
And though financially or materially you may not be doing well
Of life you too have your own story to tell.

The World's Greatest Killers

Since a deceased person can never put a bullet in my head
I only fear the living why should i fear the dead
We hear and read of maiming and murders every day
And for this the dead not responsible in any way
But i do fear the living of this why should i lie
Since it is at the hands of the living that many do die
By means of a gun or a bomb or a knife
Some people do not place a high value on human life
Human deaths by other creatures Worldwide seem quite rare
The greatest killer in the World is not a lion or a tiger or a shark or a bear
Or a snake or a spider or a large crocodile
The creature that is said that does have have death in it's smile
The World's greatest killers of human beings that we read of and hear of every day
Are living humans which does seem sad to say.

Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Duhallow's Yarn Spinners

On Winter nights around the fireplace when i was young
Old stories were told and old ballads were sung
By aging men who were well beyond their physical prime
They related their memories of a long gone time

Of the war of independence and Duhallow's brave fighting men
The heroes of the ambush of Tureengarriffe Glen
The war of independence followed by the civil war
That left in poor Ireland a deep mental scar

They told of Duhallow's long deceased sporting greats now in the hall of fame
Their legends live on so many one could name
They were Ireland's best a century ago
But eventually time becomes everyone's foe

Of miracles in Duhallow they had many to tell
Such as those that did occur at Tubrid's Holy Well
Where crippled people who came to do the rounds and pray
Without their crutches from there walked away

They told us stories of Duhallow house hauntings that filled us with fear
And of loud screams in the night that were frightening to hear
Though some of their stories fictitious good tales by them told
They did spin good yarns those yarn spinners of old

In the trees the cold winds of Winter did sough in the night
Whilst indoors the peat from Gneeves glowed warm and bright
Where the old story tellers their stories did tell
Of war and sports heroes and house hauntings and miracles at Tubrid Well.

From Worrying More Worries

We can only learn from the past since the past it has gone
Make the most of your life for time keeps ticking on
Each day sees us nearer to our final day
And worrying will not make your worries go away
The one who can laugh though financially poor is quite lucky indeed
For laughter a friend in life that we do need
The sad sacks of the town few do wish to know
And those who are happy their friends in numbers grow
This is how it is and it always will be
At least anyway this is how it seems to me
Some people they take themselves too seriously
Beyond their own needs in life they cannot see
You do not win friends when of your hard life you complain
And from worrying more worries you only do gain.

I Will Rhyme On

I am one of those who does pen heaps of rhyme
And i have been doing it for four decades of time
Of Nature and people i pen rhymes every day
An addictive rhymer of me one might say

A poet i have never pretended to be
Such a word is not best to describe one like me
An ordinary rhymer that will do me fine
With the distinguished literati i will never sip wine

Of material to rhyme on i never run out
And always plenty of things for me to rhyme about
I do not have to look for them the rhymes come to me
To rhyme is so easy as easy can be

Anyone who claims the title of poet for himself or herself with me is okay
Since we all look at ourselves in our own sort of a way
I have been called negative and one of low self esteem by more than a few
But they tell me of myself what i already know and that to me nothing new

For four decades of years i have been penning rhyming stuff
And for longer than that i have been a rhyming buff
My best physical years in decades long gone
But true to my rhyming ways i will rhyme on.

Monday, December 9, 2013

Shy People

New challenges in life shy people often face
At parties they always do feel out of place
Suppose it is a cross in life she or he has to bear
Though such people sad for them are not even rare
Shy people find it hard themselves to promote
I know one in his early twenties he is a good poet
I have read some of the excellent poems he did write
Though in public them he never does read or recite
Though some people to conquer their bashfulness do try
The limelight can be too daunting for one who is shy
Their shyness begins for them as a young girl or boy
To be the center of attention they could never enjoy
About themselves they never have that much to say
I do like shy people for their humble way.

On Hearing A Fox

Out there in the paddock in the faint moonlight
A red fox is calling in the calm of the night
A shrill and wild voice of a creature of the nocturnal countryside
That many rural people do loathe Worldwide
But of foxes their cunning and survival instincts of them cannot be denied
Those who wish to harm them they know how to avoid
That they are very clever does go without doubt
Much of them has been written and spoken about
John Masefield's long narrative poem 'Reynard The Fox' is a classic read
As it brilliantly describes the fox and the life it does lead
Foxes mostly nocturnal and seldom seen out by day
Are amongst the wiliest and elusive creatures of prey
In the calm of the night a barking fox i do hear
To where i am standing he seems rather near.

So Lucky Are You

So lucky are you to have the inner glow
Since it does make you such a nice person to know
You sow your seeds of good Karma every day
When to help others out you go out of your way
A new friend for yourself every day you do win
Since you help to make the World better for to live in
Always nice to others you are never rude
To life you are one with a great attitude
Though not amongst the celebrated people of the town
But you are willing to help one financially down
Not surprising your friends in numbers do grow
As you are one who has the inner glow
When it comes to compassion and kindness you are to the fore
And the World of your sort is in need of far more.

Sunday, December 8, 2013

Most People Have A Hobby

Most people have a hobby to enjoy their free time
And the hobby that is lawful is never a crime
Some people go walking or jogging play tennis or golf or football
And some do play bingo or bridge or cards in the local community hall
And some into writing and some into art
In the lives of most people a hobby plays some part
How boring we would be if we all were the same
If we had the same interest and played the same game
Some like to watch films or t v or books like to read
We are all very different in the lifestyles we do lead
And some like playing games on computer and others like browsing online
And some like going to the pub for music, beer and wine
And though deemed to be unlawful some have in them the need
To relax smoking pot alias wizzy weed.

Billy From Mallow

He does live far south of where the Blackwater flow
And much about life he can claim for to know
Billy from Mallow has physically known a far better day
The hair on his balding head now silver gray

A carefree youth in Mallow Town he did enjoy
In the Blackwater in Summer with his young friends he did swim as a boy
And though good memories of it have lived with him for years
For the place of his youth he does not have any tears

Five times a grandfather his Aussie wife Jo
Left him for another a decade ago
But Billy will tell you it was her choice not mine
And what she does with her life it does suit me fine

In his early seventies he lives on his own
And locally  he is well liked and well known
One who enjoys a beer and music and song
On Saturday evening in the pub he joins in the sing along

Though the accent of North Cork with him does remain
Perhaps he will never see Mallow again
Quite likeable about him he has a nice way
Life is what you make of it as Billy does say.

Mushera Valley In December

It is cold in Mushera Valley when the chill winds of December blow
And the swollen from rain Aubane River bank high in the old fields does flow
In the farm sheds cattle for fodder are bellowing as the dawn is breaking cold and gray
In Winter in Mushera Valley the sun seldom shines any day
The high and narrow Butter Road is quiet in December few cars and trucks pass up and down
In Spring, Summer and early Autumn there are far more traveling to and from Millstreet Town
But the worst of weather does not stop people of dancing in Aubane Hall where they do dance all year round
Happy people live in Mushera Valley above Millstreet on the high ground
It is cold in December by Mushera too cold for any grass to grow
The gray fogs of rain steal down the mountain in weather cold enough to snow
The migratory redwing thrushes are chirping on the naked bushes and trees
In the northern woods they breed in the Winter months much colder than by Mushera perhaps minus twenty degrees
It is cold by Mushera in December in the last weeks of the old year
And do expect snow on the foothills as Christmas with each day draws near.

Saturday, December 7, 2013

Thomas Buchanan Read

From Chester County in Pennsylvania a renowned artist and poet
In American culture one worthy of note
For future generations such beauty he did create
Thomas Buchanan Read was an artistic and a literary great

He died from injuries due to an accident just beyond his life's prime
But his poetry and art they have lived on in time
It can be said of him with words he had a way
And the art he created is highly valued today

A multitalented person one of Chester's County pride
Through the internet his fame it has spread Worldwide
One whose name has become quite famous beyond his Hometown
And for his talents did scale the summits of art and literary renown

Multitalented  people like Thomas have been and will always be few
In this i am not saying anything that is new
He did not live for to die as an old man
But he did make the most out of his lifetime span.

If You look For The Worst In Others

If you look for the worst in others then the worst you surely will find
You cannot see light where there is darkness this is how it is for the negatively inclined
We often do project our feelings sometimes this does happen to me
You cannot see the good in a person if the good you do not wish for to see
So few human beings near to perfect this is how we are one must suppose
In life we create our own friendships and in life we create our own foes
And between you and your once friend who now is your enemy the dislike can become intense
And dislike it can lead to hatred if out of this you can make sense
For some people can be quite intransigent and from a position will not back away
If you feel you are right then you cannot be wrong as the wise one has been known to say,
Some people are blessed with good people skills and with others know how to get along
And they are quite quick to apologize if they believe that they are wrong
But those who look for the worst in others the worst they do usually find
And it is not hard for you  to make enemies if to mistrust you are one inclined.

Compare Him To Old Jimmy The Rover

Ten years from his prime physically fit and healthy yet he felt he would be better off dead
He stole a gun from a near neighbor and put a bullet in his head
A young bloke fifteen years on his last birthday he felt quite depressed in the mind
Yet he was a very nice person and in his ways generous and kind

He did not do well in school exams which to him was a whole pile of stress
And victimization by the town's teenage bullies had him under a lot of duress
His young mind was clouded in fear created darkness of despair brought on by self doubt
He felt to seek professional help for his worries would be showing weakness so suicide for him seemed the best way out

Of the unhappiness that did engulf him that he felt he must bring to an end
It can be such a hard World to live in when you feel you do not have a friend
His father and his mother heartbroken his sister and his girl friend in tears
He lay in his grave in the town cemetery a decade short of his best physical years

Compare him to old Jimmy the Rover one of the oldest people of the town
A pensioner in his mid eighties and nothing in life gets him down
He has never had a wife or children and he does not seem to have a care
A happy at all times old fellow but then people like him are rare

The teenager in the town cemetery will not have to worry again
But for his nearest and dearest for years the grief of loss with them will remain
Compare him to old Jimmy the Rover who revels in the barroom cheer
On Saturday evening at the local enjoying his schooner of beer.

Friday, December 6, 2013

It Is True Enough

It is true enough anyone can pen rhyme
I have been doing it myself for quite a long time
And since addiction can come in many forms would you not agree
It has become a bit of an addiction with me

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one who has penned a whole heap of stuff
More than twelve thousand since nineteen seventy three
Perhaps of my addiction i will never be free

I am not a poet never pretended for to be
Since poets in the World are in a minority
But anyone who refer to himself or herself as a poet with me is okay
Though words as is said are quite easy to say

And though my worth as a rhymer i always do doubt
No shortage of  subject material for me to rhyme about
On this nice and calm early December day
The birds chirp and sing in the park by the bay

And the nearby paddocks lush and green after recent rain
With such pleasant weather how can one complain
And the rhymes keep coming to me on notebook i pen them down
An old fashioned rhymer in a coastal country town.

On The passing Of Nelson Mandela

For South Africa and South African people surely a very sad day
The great humanitarian and political leader from life has passed away
A political prisoner on Robin Island for many years
In South Africa their first democratically elected President they will farewell with honor and tears
With honor he died and with honor he did live
Those who had wrongfully imprisoned him he was willing to forgive
On Becoming President revenge against those who imprisoned him he never sought
A new respect Worldwide for South Africa President Mandela brought
In the life of Mandela a lesson for us all
That great people in their thinking are never narrow or small
The breath of life from his mortal body may have gone
But the legacy in his life he created destined to live on
For as long as human beings in the World do live
Hope to poor and oppressed people Nelson Mandela did give.

The Young Danny Boy

It does seem he will never grow old Danny Boy
As long a life as Methuselah he will enjoy
The day i was born of time he had lived quite a span
And today i am aging and  he remains as a young man
The song about him i often hear at the community club
And by ballad singers at the local pub
I have been listening to his song perhaps for too long
Danny Boy remains young in the words of the song
Long after my bones lay whitened and cold
The young Danny Boy he will not be old
In centuries from now he will be young
At the local pub his song will be sung
Just goes to prove the fact and fact never lie
That music and song they will never die.

Thursday, December 5, 2013


All he has are the memories of what used to be
Of when he was in his prime going back half of a century
When wherever he shore he was top shearer of the shearing shed
A man amongst shearers the sun bronzed shearer Fred
Though he is one without children or never has had a wife
A lot of women have come to and gone from his life
In his early eighties he lives on his own
Gray haired with age wrinkles better days he has known
Yet in the pub on Saturday  evening he makes merry and is in the mood for song
And with the pub singers he does sing along
He always seems happy and he never complain
And the great love of life in him does remain
No children or wife to grieve by his death bed
But living is all that does matter to Fred.

Margaret O' Regan

On remembering Margaret O'Regan what does come to mind
A very nice person down to earth and kind
In Millstreet Town she first looked on the light of day
And in Millstreet Town at the West End her last remains lay
Of Margaret only nice things one could ever say
She was always so helpful in her own nice way
In Millstreet Town in the flesh never more to be seen
But in all who knew her good memories of her will remain evergreen
One who had seen the birth of many a new year
But the news of the passing of a good person always sad to read of or hear
One never more to be seen again on the Main Street
But she will be remembered when her old Millstreet friends meet
And talk of the past in the decades long gone
Whilst on all of our lives time does keep ticking on.

The New Multicultural Millstreet

The Millstreet i was born and raised in and where i lived when my hair was dark brown
In the early years of the twenty first century has become a new Multicultural Town
Which does make it seem to be more interesting it used to be a monocultural place
Difference brings with it variety and comes with the arrival of every new race
A new Multicultural Millstreet i never thought that i would live to see the day
That it would become a place of many races new arrivals from Lands far away
They bring with them their food and their music and this in itself a good thing
Though the praises of multiculturalism is something of which everyone does not sing
The new Multicultural Millstreet is now part of the big World out there
Thanks to the food and the culture of those who arrived from elsewhere
The changes there all for the better it is something that Millstreet does need
Where different races live in harmony with each other makes multiculturalism seem worthwhile indeed
So let us drink a toast to the new Millstreet and it's praises allow me to sing
It has joined the Multicultural World and that in itself a good thing.

Wednesday, December 4, 2013

This Only Happens To Be True

The one who deliberately you does offend
Is one who will never become your friend
Not that as a friend you ever would wish him or her for to be
Friendship not built on insult would you not agree
Friendships built on mutual dislike does never begin for to end
This is how it was and is and it always will be why otherwise pretend
It is hard to like one who deliberately offends you and to you never apologize
The hurt of hurt feelings can linger for longer than some realize
If you treat a person with respect in turn from them respect you will receive
And to receive in life one has to give on such i for one does believe
The one who deliberately offends you is not one with whom you will socialize
In saying you never again trust this person should not come as any surprise
The one you thought was a friend in truth never a friend to you
In life such things do happen and this only happens to be true.

A Sad World For Many

We hear and read of murder and mayhem in the news media every day
For God and for borders in Lands far away
For religious and racial and cultural difference there is hell to pay
A sad World to live in is all one can say

And those made to suffer are the poor and downtrod
The people who must belong to the lesser God
War condemns poor people into extreme poverty
There is such a dark side to humanity

War the angry relative of nationalism and racism and patriotic pride
And the people convinced that they have God on their side
To the refugee camps of the World war victims in their thousands do flee
For them a sad World to live in would you not agree

To be poor and oppressed should never be anyone's due
And that the wealthy never suffers in war only seems to be true
The white flower of peace has gone into decay
Where anger and bitterness is rife left to wither away

A sad World for many to live in indeed
Of more rational and fair minded people the Human World is in need
For humanity it has been another bad year
In Countries where the poor and oppressed for their lives do live in fear.

The Pride Of The Moyne

Her wavy shoulder length hair dark as the wing of a crow
She is from the place where the Moyne waters flow
On to Port Fairy to the Pacific shore
The old river will flow on forever more
In the prime of her life she is only twenty three
Single without a partner she does seem carefree
So beautiful and graceful and slender and tall
Her eyes are as brown as the ripe chestnuts of the Fall
Unconceited and happy and quite free of guile
She greets everyone with a beautiful smile

For her natural beauty she is widely known
The Pride of the Moyne in a class of her own
She does not wear makeup or use tints or dyes in her hair
In all of the Moyne shire than her none so fair
In the Moyne Shire young beautiful women not rare
But with her the best of them cannot compare
In the prime of her life she blooms like a rose
And beauty is with her to wherever she goes.

Tuesday, December 3, 2013

In Queensland

In the cool of the evening just before sundown
The pied butcher birds are singing in the southern Queensland town
Where people from the beach through the park walk home in their swimwear
From early Spring to late Autumn wet and cool days in south Queensland to say the least are rare

Further north in the Queensland tropics where sun lovers abound
The mosquitoes are abundant and it is warm all year round
Where the temperatures in Summer can soar to forty degrees
Though it cools down in the evening in the freshening coastal breeze

Where the weather is often sunny and warm and the sky most days is clear
One does not read or hear of snow in Queensland at any time of year
But where there are many biting insects and dangerous creatures are not few
To say it is far from an Earthly Utopia is not saying anything that is new

In the Queensland sub tropics and tropics in every coastal city and town
The birds sing in the park-lands just before sundown
And people in their swimwear bronzed from sunshine by the sea
Walk home through the parkland for to have their evening tea.

Your Journeys In Life

Your journeys in life may take you far from home
To famous Cities such as London or New York or Paris or Rome
But how far you have traveled as a person of you little does say
Since the stay at home person may be as good if not better than you in many a way
We all look at life one might say differently
And you in your ways are quite different to me
But if we all were the same how boring we would be
Variety is the spice of life would you not agree
Your journeys in life may take you to Australia or New Zealand, Indonesia or Pakistan
Or India or China, Thailand or Africa or Japan
Or Canada, South America, Europe or the U S of A
But how far you have physically traveled as a person little of you does say
Since the home loving one who has never traveled far
May be a more compassionate and a better living person than you are.

It Does Seem To Me

It does seem to me they may lack on insight
Since to judge other people they feel they have the right
To live and let live and to each their own
For to promote such values such people are not known
To judge and thou shalt not be judged to the judgmental also does apply
And the right to a fair go none ought to deny
That self appointed judges are many it does seem sad to say
Respect to the truth in the fair go such people never do pay
The judgmental type you will meet in any town
It is not hard in words to put anyone down
But those who enjoy criticizing others resent criticism when it comes their way
You are likely to get burned when with fire you do play
When i say judgmental people now as ever not few
You very well may say tell us something that's new.

Monday, December 2, 2013

Caroline Dowling

In the Corporate World her's is now a great name
She has known great success and success comes with wealth and fame
The President of Flextronics International great success she has known
In Millstreet they are proud to claim the beautiful Caroline Dowling for their own
By her climb to success one can only feel amazed
In Murphy's Terrace in Millstreet she was born and raised
On the hill of success she has climbed the hard way
Her father Daithi he must feel a proud man today
One can say of her in a class of her own
In the Corporate World Caroline is well known
Of Caroline Dowling one can only say
That she fully deserves to be where she is at today
She rose through the ranks and came up the hard way
Perseverance and hard work for Caroline did pay.

In February Far Away

The cold winds of February from the mountains blow
And soughs in the bushes, bare trees and hedgerow
And in fancy i can hear a croaking breeding frog
In a flooded drain by Matty Owens bog
The memories of what was in me does remain
Of faces and places i may not see again
Where the sun seldom shines in clouds foggy gray
By the Boggeragh hills in February far away
Today is what matter yesterday has been and gone
And tomorrow will dawn and the clock ticking on
But in fancy in farmyard shed i can hear the cattle bellowing for silage or hay
In the cold frosty dawn of a February day
As the wintery winds blow with a cold chill
And the gray fogs of rain slowly envelope the hill.

On Brendan And Jerry On L T V

The chats on Nature between Brendan Murphy and Jerry Riordan from Millstreet far away
To see and listen to for to say the least interesting and always brings enjoyment to my day
When Jerry says Brendan is a fountain of knowledge on Nature due respect to the man he does pay
Since Brendan is one who knows about Nature and i must agree with what Jerry of him does say

Brendan is a man who knows much about Nature and learning of her ways he does enjoy
He has been living near and learning of our Earth Mother ever since he was a primary school going boy
Millstreet has plenty of celebrated people but of  Brendan's type there they are in need of more
And it is sad to think that people who love Nature in communities are never to the fore

Jerry does play his part in the conversation since he is good at drawing Brendan out
Since Brendan in his ways is not over talkative though on Nature he knows what he is on about
They did mention that berry eating migratory birds in Ireland this would have to include the redwing thrushes and fieldfare
Due to Climate Change like most other migratory bird species of late in Winter months becoming rare

From listening to Brendan and Jerry talking on Nature on L T V in Millstreet one never fails to learn something new
On the natural environment Brendan is one well informed though sad to think his type nowadays are few
For many years he has lived close to Nature and of Nature's ways so much he does surely know
He learned from looking at wildlife in the fields of Millstreet where from a boy to manhood he did grow.

Sunday, December 1, 2013

The First Day Of Summer

When magpie was warbling in the moonlight
On silent wings Summer flew into the town at midnight
For her yearly three months mostly sunny stay
With the first of December dawned Summer's first day
And blackbird in the cool before sunrise did sing
His is a well known voice of the southern Spring
Time keeps ticking on as some do like to say
At midnight Spring to the Summer did quietly give way
And the year 2013 is drawing to a close
It will not even outlive the bloom of the rose
For the first of December a very warm day
And the warmest of Summer ahead of us lay
And with each passing day 2014 drawing near
When we welcome the new and farewell the old year.

Old Jill

That time takes care of all things none ought to deny
She sits in her kennel and barks at the sky
Old Jill the dark brown chow chow her muzzle is gray
And clearly she has lived a far better day
Not even a mere imitation of the dog that she used to be
Near blind from age only shadows she does see
That she has outlived her usefulness would seem fair to say
Quite useless as a watchdog or a guard dog today
Time it does seem has become old Jill's foe
A noble dog in her prime a decade ago
She was a proud dog when she was in her prime
Like dogs humans too become victims of time
Her far better days in Seasons long gone by
She sits in her kennel and barks at the sky.

For Many Years

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one of those who has penned heaps of stuff
Easy to write and read with the rhythm of rhyme
That literary critics dismiss as of another time

In Nature heaps of material to write rhymes about
Like the pink spots on the skin of the wildborn trout
That in the summer sunshine laze in the shallows of the river pool
Nature's garden is such a great out of doors school

Any dreams of success i have had in me are long dead
But the seeds of rhyme do keep on growing in my head
And though my best years in life in the forever gone
True to my calling i keep on rhyming on

For the first day of December and Summer such a beautiful day
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
The parkland looking green after recent rain
With such pleasant weather how can one complain

On such a nice day so good to be alive
To go for a walk or on a country car drive
The song of the blackbird melodious and clear
It is such a beautiful time of the year.

Saturday, November 30, 2013

David Attenborough

David Attenborough is a hero of wildlife conservation like his brother Richard the actor and film producer he is known Worldwide
Due to his wildlife documentaries he is World famous that he is a fountain of knowledge on Nature of him cannot be denied
It is sad to see the years on him are telling gray haired and stiff time wrinkles on his face
When he will die as everyone must one day he will be near impossible to replace
His documentaries on wildlife are quite amazing his fans in numbers over the years have grown
It can be said of him he is a genius he surely is in a class of his own
He has been making wildlife documentaries for as long as i remember he was World famous when i was in my prime
And since then there has been a lot of Seasons for this is going back forty years in time
In this time of climate change many wildlife species are endangered and Nature of many more friends is in need
The scourge of climate change it now is rampant it has found a great ally in human greed
In David Attenborough  Nature has an ally but people like him sad to say too few
From every documentary of his i have watched i have never failed to learn something new
In this time of climate change when many creatures are endangered of more people like David Attenborough we are in need
And Nature's creatures need all of the friends that they have for these are trying times for them indeed.

On Pale Eyed Crows

On fence posts on paddocks or by the roadway
The pale eyed ravens i see every day
By the name of little raven they are widely known
In south eastern Australia these plentiful corvids do have ways of their own
Like all other corvids quite clever birds indeed
To survive in climate change birds likely to succeed
In shallows of the town park lake to soften i have seen them dipping to eat stale hardened bread
At survival methods of most other birds they do seem far ahead
Whilst many species of birds are threatened crows do seem to thrive
In the harshest of environments they are known to survive
From where people are they are never far away
The pale eyed corvids i see them every day
Also known as the pale eyed ravens or the pale eyed crow
In south east Australia their numbers grow and grow.

This Is Not A Surprise

I have seen the twilight of many a day
And i have looked at life in many a way
But the more i think about life the more i have come to realize
That i know little about it this is not a surprise
For my years of life i have little in knowledge to show
This much about myself i can claim to know
Yet we learn as we live it does seem this way
And from life we do learn something new every day
But those who think they know it all one important point seem to miss
That in life one never stops learning but then suppose ignorance can be bliss
My life's journey has taken me far south of my first homeplace
Where to many today mine would be a stranger's face
And one might say in knowledge i have some way to go
Though time i realize has become my foe.

Friday, November 29, 2013

The Second Last Day Of Spring

The second last day of Spring and November and the calendar Summer near
In south west Victoria a nice time of year
After recent rain the paddocks and town park are looking quite green
And Nature at her very finest is seen
The warbling of the magpie distinctive and clear
And the song of the blackbird so pleasant to hear
And the pee wee of the magpie lark none can mistake
This morning i woke to birdsong at daybreak
Sporadic bursts of sunshine in clouds blue and gray
Not too warm or cool just a pleasant Spring day
The beauty around me i can only admire
Of singing Nature's praises how could one ever tire
The beauty of Nature is all around me
Such beauty that one does not pay for to see.

No Different To Me

That celebrities live on in history well may be so
But like everyone else to life they do come and from life they do go
Since the Reaper of lives treats everyone as the same
The poor and the humble and those of money and fame
You may be one that the masses celebrate
And see you as one worthy to be called great
But to the scythe of the Reaper you are destined to fall
Born to mortality does go for all
Are we any different to the cow or the dog or the sheep?
Since an appointment with Life's Reaper we have no choice but to keep
Like me as for them there's a last night and day
Whenever this will be the Reaper has the say
The wealthy and celebrated no different to me
Since they too have been born to mortality.

It Has Been Near Three Decades

It has been near three decades since my hair was light brown
When i lived in that green countryside just west of Millstreet Town
But the hair upon my balding head is now a silver gray
And it surely can be said of me that i have known a better day
Of any personal success stories i do not have to tell
But at sixty seven years i feel happy for to be feeling healthy and well
Some i did go to school with in Millstreet far away
By their gift of life forsaken with the deceased they lay
Where i first grew to love Nature when i was a young boy
And today learning about her is something i do enjoy
And though i can differentiate between a pheasant and a crow
So little of Mother Nature's ways that i can claim to know
So many lessons from life and Nature that we learn every day
We never do stop learning as the wise person does say.

Thursday, November 28, 2013

A Few Hearty Laughs

For to keep the stress that is in you at bay
You do need a few hearty laughs every day
The pressures of work and the pressures of life
You need a few laughs to combat your inner strife
A good laugh is good for one who is feeling down
For one with few friends a sad sack of the town
Laughter is the best of medicine as many would agree
A relief to stress that does lead to extreme melancholy
Some people have stress levels that are quite low
And anxiety in their minds is quick for to grow
An ally against stress and depression in laughter you will find
Something natural that is quite good for the mind
It is hard for to beat a few good laughs a day
As it does help to keep the stress in you at bay.

Our Lives They Are Journeys

Our lives they are journeys that do end one day
And on how long we live we do not have the say
Our biological clocks on us ticking away
And in our deteriorating physical appearance for aging we do pay
There is an old song that surely does not lie
Which goes by the name of 'the longer you live the sooner you will die'
Many claim after bodily death the soul in the brain does not stay
That time has it in distance millions of miles away
That the souls in them do have wings for to fly
To the Heaven or Hell Worlds way beyond the sky
Your journey in life it will come to an end
One certainty in life on which you can depend
I know death will come to me one day or night
To say such a thing one does not need foresight.

Everyone Is Gifted

Despite what the promoters of elitism does say
Everyone is gifted in some sort of a way
Your gift may not bring to you large amounts of money and fame
But you do have a gift of some sort just the same

The gift that you have only yours with others for to share
Though of this not everyone does seem aware
Though why some refuse to share their gifts without in return some financial gain
Is something that is not very hard to explain

Since in this twenty first century money only seems to count
And if you lack in it your importance as a person to little seems to amount
Some people are not very hard to impress
The accumulation of money is their idea of success

Your gift is your's for to share with others without asking for pay
At least this is how i see it anyway
Though many with this would not see fit to agree
Suppose we all look at life in our ways differently.

Wednesday, November 27, 2013

Jimi Hendrix

Though perhaps his best songs unwritten and never to be sung
Jimi Hendrix died famous and wealthy and young
At twenty seven from a drug overdose he passed away
Death from misadventure or suicide or call it what you may
News of his passing left millions of his young fans in tears
His legend did not die with him it will live on for years
He lived life in the fast lane as some like to say
But for self abuse the price is huge for to pay
He well may be living enjoying his fame
With thousands of his loyal fans chanting his name
On September the eighteenth nineteen seventy Jimi Hendrix was found dead
With many years of living life of him ahead
And though the breath of life from his mortal body long gone
His songs and his music today living on.

Of Life And It's Ways

Of life and it's ways i have come to realize
That everyone does grow older but few do grow wise
But from life we do learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
So much to learn and so little we know
Of life and it only goes for to show
That know it all people never learn anything
Yet the praises of fools you will hear many sing
Wise people with their words never put anyone down
And few of their kind living in any town
A wise person does not live on every street
Feel lucky if once a year one you do meet
We learn as we do live as some like to say
And for our every mistake in life some price to pay.

Of Your Inhibitions

You may live your life in a positive way
And make the most of your every day
But there is a side to you none do know of or see
Of your inhibitions you will never be free

Outwardly you may seem quite confident but looks can deceive
And what you see in human body language always do not believe
And though to look at you flaws in you seem hard to find
Most of the flaws we possess are hidden in the mind

In your financial successes you well may take pride
And you have got youth and good looks on your side
But to be flawed it is human though our flaws we may deny
And this to most people does surely apply

You may be one of the financial successes of the town
And wealth as we know does bring with it renown
But in the most confident mind there is at least one seed of doubt
That you have to suppress or else it will sprout

Though many look up to those who are a financial success
The many impressionable of the town are not hard to impress
You are not the person that you seem to be
Since of your inhibitions you will never be free.

Tuesday, November 26, 2013

The Pride Of Koroit

Beyond their Hometown in the south west countryside
The footballers and netballers and cricketers of Koroit are known far and wide
Quite joyful in victory and gracious in defeat
In the south west leagues the young men and women of Koroit always the hardest to beat
In Mickey Burke's and The Commercial Hotel after every big win the Koroit fans celebrate
They drink and make merry and party till late
In Koroit Town they do know how to party on
As their ancestors did in decades long gone
Even opposing fans sing their praises loud
The sporting young women and men of Koroit always do their Town proud
So jubilant in victory and in defeat never down
They sure are a credit to Koroit their Hometown
To wear Koroit's colors to them a sense of pride
Beyond their Hometown known and admired far and wide.

On Hearing A Greenfinch

The song of a male greenfinch takes me to far away
To a northern grove in the leafy month of May
When the old fields are wearing their wildflowers of the Spring
And the nesting wild songbirds chirp, whistle and sing
The low toned wheezy notes of a male greenfinch not hard to recognize
Though amidst the leafy greener camouflaged from the watching eyes
Amongst Nature's finest songsters they will never be known
But the green birds do possess a charm of their own
The sleeping nostalgia in me it did awake
That voice from the past i never could mistake
The voices of some birds including the greenfinch from once heard one never can get wrong
In May in the grove by my old home they sang all day long
Amongst the leafy greenery quite hard to be seen
As their name does suggest greenfinches are green.


His better days in the forever gone
But his love of life does keep him living on
Of late he has not been feeling well his health is on the decline
He even stays indoors on days of warm sunshine
I have not seen him in the park of late
Not the same man since his beloved wife Kate
Took her own life in an act of suicide
Jim must feel that lady luck is not on his side
For some aged people so sad life must be
His son and daughter and grandchildren nowadays he seldom see
It must be lonely for him living on his own
And better times like many he has known
He turned eighty one in July of this year
And his health of late not good so i do hear.

Monday, November 25, 2013


In our side of the town none for to take her place
With a beautiful smile on her beautiful face
Kind hearted Melinda was buried today
Amongst the deceased of the Parish her last remains lay
She never had children was never any man's wife
She worked as a nursing sister all of her working life
Till she retired at sixty five some eight years ago
Time eventually does become everyone's foe
Melinda would never see anyone down
She always was helping the poor of the town
She sowed the seeds of good Karma every day
About her she had such a beautiful way
She died of a heart attack quite suddenly
And her loss will be felt in the local community. 


Far south of the place where his life's journey began
Poor gray haired Giovanni is an aged man
He and his dark haired wife Sophia with their young children Dino and Marie
Came to live in this Country in nineteen sixty three

Five years ago his beloved Sophia passed away
She was a dark haired beauty on her day
They had lived as man and wife for fifty five years
Mention of her name  does have him close to tears

His better days in life Giovanni has known
Six times a grandfather he lives on his own
He never again may see Italy
And the town that he left when he was twenty three

He speaks good English but the accent he was born into he retain
And till the day he does die with him it will remain
A friendly old fellow and always nice to meet
One i often see walking on the park or the street.

Just One More Politician

Some politicians do seem obsessed with their own sense of power
They do not wish anyone else for to flower
He stood addressing the converted for an hour or more
Listening for too long to the one voice can become a bore
He sure did not suffer from low self esteem
His own ideas are all that did matter that's how to me it did seem
His over inflated ego seemed too big for his head
Though his audience hung on to every word he said
And though by most of his audience he was admired
Of listening to his waffle i quickly grew tired
Ambiguous and opinionated in the things he did say
But then many politicians they do seem this way
Just one more politician obsessed with his own sense of power
He does not want anyone else for to flower.

Sunday, November 24, 2013

I Am From Duhallow

I am from Duhallow just west of the Town of Millstreet
Near the damp rushy fields where the rivers do meet
And in unison to Drishane to the Blackwater flow
In the home of the rook and the silver back crow

Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And though my wonder of her only does seem to grow
So little about her i can claim to know

The friends of my younger years where might they be today?
With them i drunk porter and football did play
But in old Duhallow i was not destined to stay
The bug of the wander in me had it's way

I have not seen old Clara for many a year
But for what used to be i have shed my last tear
The nostalgia in me it has faded to die
To say i feel homesick now would be a lie

Where i used to imagine myself as a poet
A fellow quite worthy of literary note
But imagination and reality quite different it does seem
And lack of success leads to low self esteem

Still in many ways i feel a lucky man
I lay in the sunshine improving my tan
Far south of Claraghatlea in view of Clara Hill
In the wet and the cold winds of the November chill.