Thursday, February 28, 2013

From Where I Was Born

From where i was born and raised i've been so long away
That to many there i would be a stranger today
The babe when i left there now in his or her life's prime
I've not been there for twenty six  years that does seem a long time
My physical best years to the forever long gone
But people grow older and life does  go on
I was in my life's prime four decades ago
But time as they say becomes everyone's  foe
And in the  townland where into a man i did grow
So few of me nowadays would even know
But the past it has gone and the future ahead
And we  live in the now as has often been said
And the longest lived human life in time not a long span
So hang on to it for as  long as you can.

What Is Only Our Due

They thank those who vote them into office on election day
On from some of  the promises they made to them by backing away
By trusting the words of some politicians in disappointment you will pay
Some of them are not known to stand by what they say
Not all politicians are lacking in trust
Some of them do seem quite honorable and  just
Yet the  dishonorable amongst them for sake of party loyalty they tolerate
They taint themselves when sticking by a  crooked mate
Many of them with ambiguous words do like to play
And tell you that you misunderstood what to you they did say
That their promises to you not broken your  trust they did not betray
They even have you believe all with them is okay
There is an old saying i believe to be true
That we receive from life what is  only our due.

Does Judge Not

You believe all good things come to those who wait
And will to you too if you do keep the faith
If to your chosen god you kneel to pray
For a half an hour or sometimes more every day

You believe post bodily death your soul has  wings to fly
Up to your god's eternal paradise somewhere beyond the sky
That from your earthly cares and worries your soul will have release
To live forever more in god's kingdom in lasting joy and peace

Your neighbor the known atheist you believe a post earthly life for him of hell
You must be an extraordinary seer in seeing you can foretell
The fate that does await him on the day his body die
Is judge not and thou shalt not be judged to you a blatant lie

Good things await those who do pray this is what you do believe
That if you worship your universal god good things in return you will receive
As a reward for your  loyalty in heaven's paradise beyond  the sky
Does judge not and thou shalt not be judged to you not apply?

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

Some Of Us

Some of us in our moments that border despair
Do tell ourselves life to us not at all fair
But few wish to know of you when you are feeling down
They leave you to be a sad sack of the town

But the passage of time leave some feeling more wise
And that than them many worse off they do come to realize
In third World Countries of famines and wars and disease
In refugee camps millions of refugees

Even people near to you tonight sleeping rough
Homeless and on below poverty line incomes and doing it tough
They do have life choices of them the  judgemental may say
Those who have never been homeless even for a day

Some of us in our darker moments of self doubt
May ask ourselves is this what life is about
But someone on a  park bench to where you live nearby
Does sleep without a blanket under the night sky.

Surely Not Wrong

That years of absence weaken the  ties that bind surely not wrong
My bond for my first homeplace  used to be strong
For old Claraghatlea in view of Claramore
Far inland  by road from Hibernia's shore
Though old memories of it today living in me
Perhaps it is a place i will never more see
Most of the mentors of my younger years amongst the deceased lay
In the burial ground by Cashman's Hill from here miles away
Time bring with it changes as some like to say
And perhaps i would  feel a stranger today
In the place i have not seen for twenty six years
For it i have shed the last of my nostalgic tears
But the old fields some of them had their given name
As they once were to me today would look the same.

Power Can Corrupt

We read of and hear of corruption by people in politics every day
The more power some of them have the more corrupt they become this does seem sad to say
Those who say that power can corrupt are not wrong at all
Some invested with high office in their ways are so small
Some members of Parliament are involved in corruption and greed
Of their sort to represent them people are not in need
Amongst some who hold important portfolios corruption is rife
By their criminal behavior one would swear that they are struggling in life
With some politicians enough never does seem enough
In a World where millions of poor people are doing it tough
It is said the politicians who represent us are our reflective mirrors if this then be true
Through them we are only receiving what in life is our due
To good and honest politicians they do give a bad name
And this in itself seems a bit of a shame.

Tuesday, February 26, 2013

Old Tarwin

On towards Tarwin Lower by Inverloch Town
Old Tarwin is flowing in waters of brown
Though an old countryside quite  old in the Dreamtime
That has  often inspired to creativity the  makers of story and rhyme
In long gone Summers out of the sun in the shade of the trees
Australia's first people danced their corroborees
Close to the brown bank of where Tarwin does flow
In the home  of the  gray roo and the pale eyed crow
But South Gippsland first people will dance never more
Where Tarwin flows on to the Pacific shore
To be as old as the country it flows in is  it's great claim to fame
And long before the  arrival of Australia's second race of people it had another name
Like Nature's Seasons  people to life come and go but the river remain
And in fancy by old Tarwin i often walk again.

What I Would Give

Sixty six years have passed since my life's journey began
And in the life of a human being in time  this is a good span
And since for all of us there is a last night and day
The end of me cannot be that far away
Though death is  part of life which seems obviously clear
It is only the fear of dying that i do fear
And  since i am one not born to be brave
To fear one might say i have become a slave
How quickly the Seasons do seem to go by
On looking back the years how fast time did fly
It is said from living life experience we do gain
But what i would give for to be young again
Walking in the fields on a  balmy evening in Spring
Listening to the nesting birds whistle and sing.

Doing Something I Love Doing

For many Seasons i've  been a rhyming buff
And over the years i have  penned reams of stuff
Some four decades have passed since i penned my first rhyme
One surely can say this is going back in time

The physical best years of my life long gone
To rhyming i must be addicted to keep rhyming on
Some  tell me that i ought to call it a day
That this penning of doggerel i should give away

But to their words i never do pay any heed
As their sort of advice i feel i do not need
For to be a good rhymer i may lack in the necessary skill
But i do enjoy rhyming and i always will

And since with rhyming words i am one who likes to have a play
No shortage of things to rhyme of every day
Today the sun is shining and the nectar gathering bees
Are buzzing whilst taking nectar from the blossoming trees

A warm day in mid February in the late Summer of the year
And the cooler Autumn weather in time now is near
One more rhyme to add to the many i have penned
I am doing something i love  doing of that i won't pretend.

Monday, February 25, 2013

No Votes For Politicians

No votes for politicians in being kind to boat refugees
So they send them to their detention camps in Islands overseas
To Manus Island and Nauru this the majority of the voters does please
Fear of voter backlash amongst democratically elected politicians seems like  a disease
The way the Australian Government and it's main Opposition Parties treat asylum seekers is surely a shame
And a human disgace for want of a better name
To appease redneck voters they abuse the human rights of the poor and dispossessed
I as one of the growing minority with their behavior disappointed and unimpressed
The  politicians elected to Parliament are reflective mirrors of the majority that does seem fair to say
Though to any fair minded person anyone wanting a better life for self and family is okay
Australian politicians in the twenty first century are living scared of what is known as voter fear
And quite hostile to asylum seekers in 2013 an election year
Nauru and Manus Island detention camps not a nice place  to be
For any poor Stateless asylum seeking refugee.

That Apart From Yourself

That apart from yourself your children and your  wife
Are the very most important things of  your life
Is quite understandable as most would agree
Since most people  think this way of family

But since of yourself and your family you can only talk about
Of the depth of your knowledge one must cast some doubt
One might have thought by now that you should have known
That there is far more to life  than me and  my own

Everytime i do meet you without asking you do tell me
Of your son's great new job and your daughter's uni degree
As  if these things you never told me of before
Though i must have heard them from you fifty times maybe more

Since there is more to life than self and family
Your depth of knowledge does seem limited to me
But one thing for certain of you it does seem
You never will suffer of low self esteem.

Of Nature

Of Nature so much of to write and to say
We learn from her in our walks every day
How pleasant in Summer the pleasant scent of  new mown hay
That in the senses with us does stay
I have loved Mother Nature since i was a boy
And learning about her today i enjoy
My wonder of her never ceases to grow
Yet so little about her i realize i do know
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And every day of her we learn something new
In my many walks i feel privileged to see
The natural beauty everywhere around me
That for to enjoy money i do not pay
And to describe words i do not have to say.

Sunday, February 24, 2013

Where The Araglen Flow

Far north of this Land into men they did grow
Where old Araglen to the Blackwater does flow
The old village they have not seen for decades of years
But for the past they have shed all of their tears
Their chidren are Australians  by birthright
They never have heard the male snipe on a  Spring night
Above the bog with wings and tail in the moonlight
Making goat like bleating sounds in his courtship flight
In the local pub where they socalize they often recall
How in their club colours they played gaelic football
In the Duhallow Championship many Seasons ago
Before they migrated and time became their foe
And the passing of the Seasons left them walking slow
Far south of the fields where the Araglen flow.

To Her I Will Return

The Land  i was born and raised in from here far away
But perhaps in this far southern Country my last remains will lay
And  whether i am buried or cremated it will not matter to me
The deceased past all feelings and of all cares are free

I never fought for any Country or any National flag ever did wave
And the last post will never be played at my grave
And it sure will not matter to me the  least then
If i am one of the millions of forgotten men

From the place i was  born and raised in i live many a sky mile
And i did feel nostalgic for there for awhile
But in this warm souhern Country i am ageing and gray
Though here i feel content and happy to stay

Till the Reaper claims the life's breath from me
In the not distant future whenever that be
And whether i am buried entire or cremated my ashes in an urn
I belong to Nature and to her i will return.

Steven O Riordan 'The Power Of One'

Some people as unsung do go to their grave
But as it is said fortune favours the brave
And the bravest and most honorable of people speak out for the oppressed
What is  all wrong with human society by them is addressed

The barrier of injustice some help to tear down
One such a person is Steven O Riordan he hails from Millstreet Town
In his fight for the rights of 'The Forgotten Maggies' his has become a great name
Life for him will never again be  the same

In his late  twenties Steven is a person worthy of being admired
By the 2006 Peter Mullan's film The Magdalene Sisters he was inspired
Into action on behalf of the  women who had lived through hell
Of their silence he  helped to free them their harrowing stories to tell

Of the abuse they suffered in catholic run instituitons in Ireland years ago
Their stories are stories of sadness and woe
The likes of Steven has forced the Irish Government to them for past wrongs to apologize
The power of one  is  far greater than anyone seem to realize

Abuse of young innocent people in catholic run institutions in Ireland for too long has gone on
And one cannot say that the past is the past and in the forever gone
When the crimes committed against them are only being addressed today
Though too late is better than never as some do like to say

Steven O Riordan the man who spoke up from the silent crowd
His parents of him have a right to feel proud
The great flag of justice he proudly does wave
There is truth in the saying fortune favours the brave.

Saturday, February 23, 2013

I Do Not Hate Anybody

I do not hate anybody this is not my way
Anyone who does wrong me i leave to karma since to karma we  pay
For our sins against others what we give in turn we do receive
On such a  philosophy i for  one does  believe
What goes around comes around does seem so true
What we do unto others does become  our due
Good karma does await the compassionate and kind
Since they do not have to live with guilt of the mind
I do not hate anybody hate for the mind is an unhealthy thing
The praises of good people i would prefer to sing
In life i believe we receive what we sow
Poor seeds to good crops are never known for to grow
I suppose this is how it is and it always will be
I do leave to karma  the one who is doing wrong by me.

I Hope Of Life

I hope of life a few more years of me ahead
I may not be worth much living but i would be worthless dead
Just an aging hack of an old rural town
Were i born a horse by now i'd be put down
Some arrogant people i do meet every day
Full of self importance  they do seem this way
They do feel superior to self effacing me
How arrogant and self conceited some  people do seem to be
To them i have little in common to share
As we does see life quite different of such i'm aware
To me us humans no different to all life forms born to die
Is life after bodily death an imaginary lie?
My best years in life to the forever gone
But for as long as i can do i want to live on.

His Ghosts Of The Mind

It is said he is a genius one of a rare kind
But he cannot hide from his ghosts of the mind
For as long as he live with him they will stay
Though strong medication does keep them at bay
He is a young man only thirty three
One in science and technology who has a degree
Till the ghosts of his mind to him became a foe
By invading his brain about six years ago
The woman he loved  who was to become his wife
Changed her mind on that and walked out of his life
She decided she  could not cope with one  mentally unwell
She left him on his own for to live in his own Earthly Hell
The supposed great future ahead of him is not to be
For some  life has heavy crosses it does seem to me.

Friday, February 22, 2013

In Life Every Day

In life every day a new challenge to face
Well at least for many this does seem the case
For millions of people it is a struggle to survive
Circumstance of birth of opportunity in life them does deprive
Some will tell you poverty is relative and can come in varying degrees
But in a World of millions of homeless people and refugees
One must say amongst the Planets human population poverty is on the increase
What the Human World needs is freedom from war and hunger that would lead to prosperity and peace
Sad for those who are  doing it tough in the Human World of today
That many of them destined to die young does seem sad to say
Some will never know of success though hard for it they do try
The fair go to all to all does not apply
For some to grow wealthy many in poverty
Suppose this is how it is and it always will be.

Brendan O Sullivan

From Rathduane in Ballydaly Brendan  Sullivan for Ireland is flying the flag
An Olympic bronze medal for floorball is surely worthy of a brag
A son of Margaret and Tom and of the late Jerome the Yank a grandson
The first in Duhallow an Olympic medal in floorball to have won

One not found  to be  wanting when put to the test
With success he competed against the World's best
In the prime of his life and full of youthful elan
The dashing young Brendan is a mighty man

In Humphrey Hickey's Bush Bar in Millstreet Town
A huge celebration for the man who knows of the feel of renown
For Brendan the plaudits were many and the applause was loud
His mum and his dad of him must feel so proud

On behalf of L T V and the Millstreet Website
Sean Radley was there for to report of and to write
Of the young man from Ballydaly who wears the mantle of fame
As a hero for Ireland in the World Floorball game

Since in sports his has become quite a famous name
Life for young Brendan O Sullivan will never again be the same
In future years a sporting memory from February 2013 for Duhallow sports fans to recall
Of one of their own a hero of the World game of Floorball.

Rabbits Rights

It is true human rights should be for everyone
But as for rabbits rights there has never been none
Between myxomatosis and clavixal virus and  being poisoned, snared and shot
At the hands of human beings they have suffered a lot

Rabbits are timid cratures they are not known for  to bite
But they multiply quickly and have a huge appetite
On the farmer's cows and sheep they eat most of the grass
So the farmer to kill them their burrows does gas

Rabbits must be the creatures of the lesser gods
And yet they survive against all of the odds
Humans cannot make them extinct though hard they do try
Since  their anti extinction antidote is they are quick to multiply

Human rights  should be for everyone of every race
But sadly in the  Human World of today this is not the case
But as for rabbits there has never been rights or never will be
This does seem all wrong would  you not agree?

Thursday, February 21, 2013


Goodbye to Claraghatlea in view of Claramore
And to every town, city and village i have lived in before
Coming to live in Koroit in Victoria's south west
On our journeys in life for all many a test

Goodbye to the people i will never more meet
In every town i have lived in since i left Millstreet
Some of them my friends though them i may not meet again
Though good memories of them are mine to retain

The memories are with us though the  past it has gone
Of faces and places when in life we move on
Of people we liked we may never more see
With those who say to this such is life  i for one must agree

In our journeys in life for our mistakes we pay
Goodbye to the past and to every yesterday
Not everyone we do meet will become a friend
As we go on our way on to our journey's end.

On The Death Of Charlie Brown

Of Summer, Ella, Shane and Lisa his human family the pride
Charlie Brown the golden labrador of snakebite toxin has died
Their dog grieved by the  family for them such a sad day
Life has it's joys and sorrows but it has always been this way

Charlie Brown was a grand old dog not hard to please at all
Content with a few pats and a good feed every day his  needs in life were small
At seven years of age deceased for a dog to die that's young
Good deceased dogs like good people their praises ought to be sung

A devoted friend of the Gibson family devoted friends in life are rare
Life has it's share of crosses some of them heavy to bear
In the Gibson household the tears of loss are shed
For their faithful till death labrador who lay in his earthy bed

The Gibsons grieve for a true friend devoted Charlie Brown
Your canine is your friend for life one who never lets you down
From life for poor old Charlie it was a painful release
But that all now behind him and  may he rest in peace.

The Dad Is A Bully

The dad is a  bully and so is his son
Breeding begets breedng when all is  said and done
Thirty five years ago the dad was the schoolyard bully the son is today
And the schoolyard bully through life as a bully does stay
Why some are born to be  bullies ask some other than me
Since on human behavior i do not have a degree
Perhaps the bully gene through generations passed down
And  no shortage of bullies in any village, city or town
But the worst sort of bully is the one with political power
In fear of him millions in silence do cower
Too scared in public one word against him for to say
For such a brave act with their lives they might have to pay
Bullies do not grow wise they just grow old and gray
And the son of a former schoolyard bully is the schoolyard bully today.

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

Some Say We Receive From Life

Some say we reaceive from life what is our due
But to one's higher self one can only be true
Be true to yourself and to others be kind
In we reap what we sow some truth you will find
Treat others as you would like them to treat you
And if you can help one in need of help by all means do
There is more to life than living for me, myself and i
That narcisissm, selfishness and greed are siblings is not a lie
Kindness begets kindness as some like to say
And some do perform a good deed or two every day
Always willing to help those of helping in need
For their future good karma they do plant the good seed
Some say in life we do reap what we sow
That from poor seed a good crop will not grow.

Port Fairy's Rose

Her shoulder length wavy hair is as dark as the wing of a crow
The Pride of the Town where the Moyne waters flow
On towards Griffith Island to the Pacific shore
The rivers of Nature flow forever more

The eyes are as blue as the ripe Autumn sloes
Of the beautiful one known as  Port Fairy's Rose
Single at twenty one a few years from her life's prime
For falling in love and  marriage and children she has  plenty of time

Yet of her great beauty she does not seem aware
Her sort of person nowadays does seem rather rare
So charming and unpretentious and she does seem carefree
That humility is a great gift would you not agree

Without dyes or  makeup she  is what you see
She does look quite natural as natural as can be
Of all of the Moyne Roses she has  been voted the  best
Port Fairy's Rose of Victoria's south west.

For Me Not Far Away

What is in life for me now an aging old hack
The end of my life's journey not distant there is no turning back
I can only return in memory to my life's prime
The only way that we can go back in time

A worn out old crock of a rural coastal town
It has been many years since my hair was dark brown
Without any success to talk of and a stranger to renown
By now were i born a horse i would have been put down

Some people have you believe how  important they are
To meet their sort you do not have to drive in your car
Just a three minute walk from where you live  not far
They drink in their own groups in the local public bar

Since like all other life forms we are born to die
Are they any different to you or to i
A minority of our kind of years see the four score
We live for awhile death is forever more

And though i've been called negative and  cynical and one of low self esteem
I only see life as to me how it does seem
Are the animals and birds and fish i eat any different to me
As one day i too must die this is my destiny

An aging old hack in my sixty sixth year
It is only the fear of death that i do fear
On my balding head my hair once dark brown is now silver gray
And the end of my life's  journey for me not far away.

Tuesday, February 19, 2013

On New Zealand

The first people of their history do rightfully feel Proud
Of New Zealand the Islands of the long white cloud
In the park, pub or cafe their social club or the street
The Maoris rub noses with their friends when they meet
The home of the weka, the takahe, the kiwi and kakapo
That it is a beautiful green Country happens to be so
In New Zealand in the Pacific the scenic Land  in the far south
The  kiwi can be heard calling in the high country when the stars are out
Many miles by car from the nearest big town
The shy long billed flightless bird in feathers of dark brown
New Zealand people are known as kiwis by nickname
To have some of the greatest rugby players in the World one of their claims to fame
The All Blacks sing and dance  the  Maori Haka before going out to play
The World Champion rugby team in the  World of today

Most Of Us

Most of us  have our ups and down days it does seem
And most of us have our moments of low self esteem
And most of us have our moments that border on despair
When we secretly feel life to us is unfair
In life for one to win many have to lose
And losing is a thing anyone does not choose
And it does take great courage for to lose graciously
Not many of this sort would you not agree?
Most of us have our moments when we are feeling down
Only one can become the happiest one in the town
And no two look at life  in the very same way
We all are quite different as some like to say
And most of us daydream of riches and fame
But not everyone's does become a great name.

Niall Moynihan

Niall Moynihan the eldest son of Michael and  Margaret was born and raised near Millstreet Town
But far from there in the World of modern technology he carves his own renown
A genius in his  own right in the bigger World he is widely known
But in Millstreet they feel proud of him and like to claim him for their own

Niall Moynihan the go getter in life great things does achieve
That from life we receive our due rewards i am one who does believe
People like him are not plentiful not in the majority anywhere
He has  built a great name for himself in the bigger World out there

He is quite a daring fellow one  who does not easily scare
Took the plunge in bungee jumping one not scared to have a dare
But he lives to tell the story his will not be an early grave
There is an old saying i believe in fortune does  favour the  brave

I knew Niall in his teen years as one who did not have a foe
He was quite a nice young person this is going back years ago
With the great minds of technology for success he does compete
His life a marvellous success story from the west side of Millstreet

In modern technology his is quite a  well known face
And the World for him living in it is much a better place
In life he has a positive outlook no challenge for him too great
One from by the Town of Millstreet that we have to celebrate.

Monday, February 18, 2013

They Sow The Seeds Of Good Karma

They sow the seeds of good karma every day
And to help those in need of helping go out of their way
People who believe in to give to receive
On the  good side of humanity they do believe
There is more to living life than me, myself and i
An obsession that some do cling on to till the day they do die
Though narcissism in the Human World is on the rise
With the competition for success amongst people this does not come as a surprise
Since they do give for to receive every day
Those in touch with their higher selves are not this way
Generosity of spirit is such a great thing
Of the praises of such i feel happy to sing
Those who sow the seeds of good karma receive what they sow
And of good luck in living they do usually know.

Bruce And Sam

Of the bond of friendship and trust between people and their dogs writers like to write
I do know of such a friendship between Bruce Lowental and his  dog Sam  a west highland white
Wherever Bruce goes to in his truck Sam with him goes along
The bond between him and his dog will always be strong

Sam a hairy sturdy white eight year old for a dog well past his prime
Fifteen years is considered very old for a dog though that is not a long span in time
Of  his dog Bruce  will tell you he is my best friend
For loyalty, love and trust on him i can depend

Where Bruce is  Sam usually not that far away
He takes him with him in the truck almost every day
Except in Summer when the weather temperature is well over thirty degrees
On warm humid days devoid of a cool breeze

A few pats every day a drive in the truck and a good feed
For a lifetime of love and devotion is all Sam does need
On the friendship of your dog you can always depend
Since dogs with their feelings are honest they do not know how to pretend

A very old saying but a saying that is true
You treat your dog well and your dog will love you
Bruce Lowenthal loves his dog Sam and always treats him well
And that the bond between them is strong is not hard to tell.

On A Photo Of A One Handed Catch By Din Connors

An old framed photograph in John Joe Daly's kitchen in Inchaleigh hanging on the wall
Holds a memory for me for as long as i live from the past that i will recall
From the  1945 All Ireland senior football final Cork v Cavan one to top them all
Of Din Connors of Cork and Millstreet with a one handed catch of the gaelic football

Din Connors then was in his physical prime a fellow full of life's youthful elan
By all accounts a great gaelic footballer a very humble and yet a mighty man
The  first Millstreet player to win an All Ireland senior gaelic football medal he was one of Cork and Ireland's best
And one who was never found to be wanting the man who proved himself in every test

I never did have the honour of watching the great man in action a gentleman on and off of the field of play
But the mental image of the photo of his marvellous one handed catch is living in my memory today
He was one of the star players of Duhallow a hero of a great Cork Gaelic Football win
In his prime few gaelic footballers in Ireland could hope  to match it with the mighty Din

From his Hometown by old  Clara in Duhallow thousands of sky miles by plane  away
From Millstreet where he  was born and raised in Din Connors last remains in Boston lay
An old photo of his one  handed catch of the football on the late John Joe Daly's kitchen wall
 Until i die will live on in my memory for me it is  the one that tops them all.

Sunday, February 17, 2013

In The Home Of

In the home of the  moorhen, black duck and the pale eyed crow
Old Merri through the  flat country by Warrnambool flow
To Lake Pertobe en route to the Pacific at Lady Bay
It does slowly creep onwards by night and by day
The river that has inspired song, story and rhyme
It was even old in the  early Dreamtime
In Summer by the banks of the Merri in the shade of the trees
Australia's first people danced their corroborees
But sad to say by the banks of the Merri by the Pacific shore
Australia's first people may not dance never more
The Seasons do come and the Seasons do go
And eventually times becomes everyone's foe
But the old Merri river by night and by day
Flows to Lake Pertobe then to Lady Bay

The Last Time I See Him

The last time i see him he was walking on Sturt Street
I little thought then that him i would never more meet
That life can be  cruel on some it does seem so
He died of a heart attack ten years ago
In his  mid twenties married without children his wife for him in tears
Her sense of loss remain with her for years
He was quite a nice  young man one worthy of recall
For his local club in Ballarat he played Australian Rules Football
A true sportsman even liked by opponents in the oval of play
He is remembered and missed by the club fans today
Of him anyone did not have a negative word for to say
For  to help others he often went out of his way
Never for to be seen in Ballarat again
In those who knew him fond memories of the good man remain.

The Great Denis Long

Duhallow sporting greats are often honoured in story and song
And not to laud them for their sporting achievements would surely seem wrong
I talk here of a classy gaelic footballer who was deceptively strong
The Pride of Annagloor the great Denis Long

For Cork a minor and under twenty one and then a senior All Ireland in seventy three
Before he left the Millstreet Club to join Austin Stacks a Club near where he lived in Tralee
With Austin Stacks three Kerry County Senior  Championships and an All Ireland Club medal to add to his dual All Star
On the success ladder of gaelic football the former Annagloor boy was one  who did climb far

Those who criticized him for leaving Millstreet for Austin Stacks were guilty of an oversight
Since anyone's personal choice as an individual happens to be one's right
In the late nineteen seventies he signed for to play with the Millstreet Club again
And  from the Millstreet fans a new found respect he did gain

He played for Cullen as a minor where he and Dan Morley a minor All Ireland with Cork did win
The  will to succeed in anything in life comes from a will born within
And Denis Long in gaelic football had the will to succeed
And his record tells that he was quite successful indeed

Time does take care  of all as some are known to say
And physically the great Denis Long has known a far better day
Since he played his last game of gaelic football some three decades in time has gone
But good memories of the  great player he was today living on.

Saturday, February 16, 2013

The Fearless One

He is  not one who does easily scare
The fellow who does like to have a dare
In deep and in dangerous waters he does swim
Fear is a complete stranger to him

Some locals forecast for him an early grave
Those who believe only fools are this brave
But to what others think of him he does not lose sleep
He will swim where the waters are deep

To his mum and dad not the one they wish him to be
Since he does not have a uni degree
Instead as working as a scaffolder on a building site
Though at sixteen he left school able to read and write

A handsome brown haired man near his life's prime twenty three
And quite muscular few as well built as he
He has no intentions of taking a wife
Though one nights stands a feature of his  life

Though not a footy fan he often drinks at the footy club
And at the weekend he is in the local pub
Enjoying the sing song whilst drinking pots of beer
One who quite likes the bar-room atmosphere

If he does have worries of them he makes light
He enjoys his beer and  never looks for fight
To swim in deep waters of  swirling currents he has  to be brave
He is one who does not fear a watery grave.

We Eventually Die

Not unlike the moth or the bee or the fly
We are born to life and in numbers our kind multiply
And like all other life forms we eventually die
The same for the billionaire as you and  i
Up the ladder of success you may have climbed far
But you are not as great as you think that you are
Your life will not be a life the Reaper of lives will ignore
The Reaper who never has spared any life before
Millions of children are born in the World every day
No fear of human extinction due to lack of breeding it does seem this  way
The human population on the increase in the twenty first century
As well as a sharp increase in poverty
And no welcoming Land for any refugee
That this does seem sad would you not agree?

His Sort Becoming Rare

Like everyone else he is not a flawless man
But to gain out of someone's else's misfortune is not in his life's plan
If life is cruel to you and you are feeling down
He will not disown you as a sad sack of the town

Since he himself works for minimum award pay
He may not be able to help one in need of help in a big financial way
But the one in desperate need he would never ignore
In compassion and empathy he is to the fore

For  the hard up hard nots one who genuinely care
In a Human World of so much greed his sort beoming rare
Many only do take for as long as they live
But he has the kindness in him for to give

In me heaps of room for improvement he is known to say
But to help others out he often goes out of his way
For to sow the seeds of good karma always readily inclined
The Human World is in need of far more of his kind.

Friday, February 15, 2013

In Some Countries

In some Countries people who speak in public against the  regime for their words are made for to pay
They are condemned to serve years of imprisonment and tortured and beat every day
These are brave and wonderful people they do stand  for something that is great
For human rights they carry the banner and them we ought to celebrate
If everyone were only like them the Human World of oppressors and oppression would be free
We would not have people too scared for to speak for their rights we would not have any refugee
Some of the World's bravest people who are not guilty of any crime
Are  condemned for their bravery to serve a long term of prison time
Had they kept their silence they would not be in prison today
But they live  by their conscience this is  their way
To their higher selves they remain as ever true
And credit in abundance they surely are due
They refuse to be  cowed by those who rule  by fear
And stories of their bravery inspiring to read of and to hear.

Creatures Of Moods

We all do go through our bleak moments in life
Of worries and troubles and deep inner strife
And moments of lack of self worth the sibling of self doubt
One well might say this is what life  is about

Some tell us from life we do receive our due
But that not everyone can be a winner happens to be true
Most people are successful in their own sort of way
In life you win some and lose some as some  like to say

The praises of those they see as successful many people do sing
But success itself can be a relative thing
It all depends on what to you that you do relate
The one who is wonderful to you to me may be far from great

We all have our moments when we are feeling down
This even happens to those who know of wealth and  renown
That we are creatures of moods happens to be so
And moods to the mind they do come and do go.

A Memory

A memory from the past that today i recall
The night the cross on Clara in the storm did fall
The wind from the north did blow loud and strong
And in the tree branches did howl all night long

In the gray dawn the gale was a spent force and the air it was still
But when i looked to the mountain known as Clara Hill
Of the old timber cross just a  stump i could see
A mental picture that lives in my memory

Back then i was well past my physical prime
But since i have lived more than twenty eight years in time
In anyone's language this does seem long ago
And time to the memory often a foe

Local men erected a steel cross where the  timber cross stood
To overlook the fields by Claramore wood
Where male robin to proclaim his borders does sing
In his nesting time in the prime of the Spring

The memory with me remain of that August day
when i looked towards the  hill in the dawn cool and gray
An upright stump of wood all that was to be seen
In the spot where the beautiful old cross had been

Nice memories of what was today i retain
And in fancy i walk in the old fields again
And though the now is all that does matter as most would agree
Memories of what was often do come to me.

Thursday, February 14, 2013

An Ordinary Rhymer

An ordinary rhymer is the best i can be
But in that i am not alone there are many like me
There are millions of them in the  big World out there
Ordinary rhymers in numbers abound everywhere

Few become wealthy and famous in the wordsmith trade
And it is true about poets  that they are born not made
Just as in all things in life few writers of any genre seem to make the grade
All others are quick from the memory to fade

For many years i have  been a rhyming buff
And i am one who has written pages of stuff
I write rhymes because i enjoy doing it and  little else more
This is something you may have heard me say before

Of singing Nature's praises i never do tire
Her beauty it is free for all to admire
I learn new things about her every day
In life we never stop learning as some like to say

I never refer to myself as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
But i hope to be rhyming till the day i do die
To say otherwise of me would be a lie

Though the sky is overcast and the sun is not out
There is so much for me to be happy about
The flute like song of the magpie so lovely to hear
The bird who does sing every day of the year

From rhyming enjoyment for me enough gain
And my great love of it i do hope to retain
For as long as i live till my life's final day
Since with rhyme words i am one who does love to play.

The Sun It Is Hidden

The sun it is hidden in clouds of dark gray
And the sky overcast seems like rain is on the way
It is not what one would call a nice Summer's day
Though the magpie does sing in the park by the bay
But with one cloudy day one ought not to complain
Since  we've had lots of dry, warm amd sunny weather and are in need of some rain
Quite cool for early February a forecast high of twenty degrees
And the dampness of rain in the freshening coastal breeze
That does gently sough in the  leaves of the acacia trees
On a day like today one does not hear the buzzings of flies and of bees
Yet Nature is beautiful in all sorts of weather would you not agree
And all around me great natural beauty to see
And the magpie lark sings his familiar pee wee
He is doing for him what does come naturally.

Many People

Many people in their minds carry baggage at least this is how it does seem
Some people are victims of the past and some suffer of low self esteem
Some develop a mental illness the workings of the  mind in strife
Their calming effect medication their cross it is with them for life
In life everyone cannot be a winner some must lose for one for to win
The will to live on through the hard times does come from a  strength born within
The people who do not have such mental strength in them sometimes end their lives in suicide
From our cares and stresses and worries for us there is no place to hide
Many by the mental baggage they carry in their lives are weighted  down
Such people are of all classes and races in every village and city and town
Suppose everyone  cannot be near to perfect this is how it is and will always be
Those withhout mental or physical health issues seem lucky as people to me
Many people in their minds carry baggage strange the workings of the human brain
Why this should be even the top health specialists do find rather hard to explain.

Wednesday, February 13, 2013

The Fringe Dweller

Community he does not subscribe to and any social gathering he never does  attend
Even his neighbors treat him as a stranger the man who does not have a friend
One  can say that he is a loner to a tribe he does not belong
Yet he never seems  surly or moody and about him there is nothing wrong

Sports and politics does not interest him on t v he never watches football
With the majority of the locals he has little in common at all
He is one who loves our Earth Mother and of her ways so much he does know
If you mention to him human abuse of the natural environment the sadness in his face does show

In his early forties one  without children he does not have regrets in life
And he is not one to hold grudges not even against his ex wife
She now is the wife of a neighbor and everytime he sees her he bids her good day
He is not one for harbouring grudges though she did hurt him in a cruel way

The things that he finds most interesting are Global Warming and Climate Change
The one different in thinking to most others by many is looked on as strange
One of a social fringe dwelling minority yet he knows every species of bird by the song it does sing
He does live his  life in his own way the fellow who does his own thing.

When The Shark Kills The Man

The man who killed the shark is hero of the day
But the shark who killed the man with it's life it will pay
It must flee for safety to deep waters far out of the bay
Where it killed and eat the man death it's lot if it stay
In this instance Moses Fifth Commandment to the shark does apply
But not to the man of this one wonders why?
It is okay when the man the shark flesh does eat
But the shark it must die for eating human meat
If in where the shark lived the  man did not swim
He would be living today on land the shark could not reach him
As he swam in the bay the thought of danger did not enter his head
And the shark felt quite hungry and the man is now dead
When the shark kills the  man with it's life it must pay
But the man who kills the shark is hero of the day.

Laughing Billy

Everytime i do see Billy he has a big smile on his face
In his ways happy go lucky his gift of life he does embrace
He does not have a wife or children or a car to call his own
He will tell you he is lucky the hard life he has not known
The nickname of Laughing Billy does seem apt for him to me
When not smiling he is  laughing one who always seems carefree
A dark haired man in his mid twenties of one night stands he has had more than a few
One might say that nights of passion to him are nothing new
Why should he  wish to get married when for sex he does not pay
To many of his age he is  different looks at life in a different way
He is the life of every party and he makes a new friend every day
He has made love to many beautiful women though with none of them he wishes for to stay
He always carries happiness with him and generously shares it around
His kind are a rare breed of people in large numbers they do not abound.

Tuesday, February 12, 2013

I Do Have My Struggles

I do have my struggles like many with the darkened moods  of despair
But no point in for myself feeling sorry since life to me is not unfair
In most ways i am not a poor person many know of it far tougher than me
I do not know how it feels to be homeless or live the life of a refugee
The World out there can be a tough one where many must sleep rough tonight
That people live hungry and homeless is surely not morally right
The  gap between the haves and the have nots is getting bigger by the day
That this should be in the twenty first century one could hardly say is okay
From life we receive what we warrant in some cases does seem quite true
If you sow the seeds of bad Karma most likely good things not your due
Unlike the poor old homeless fellow the frail looking gray haired Ned
Tonight he will lay on a park bench whilst i sleep in a comfortable bed
Some say his poverty is self inflicted those who to the suffering of others are blind
Some people do lack in compassion they do not know how to be kind.

A Loser You Never Will Be

If you can accept what life gives you in grace  though times for you have been quite tough
And never complain to others of your lot as a person you are good enough
You refuse to surrender to your  ghosts of despair and with life's battle carry on
You feel that life for you could even be worse and all hope out of your life has not gone
You feel that your luck may be about to change the gift of hope is  a wonderful thing
You do not seek sympathy of any sort the praises of people like you one ought sing
You are not a quitter you never have been though today for  you another bad day
You have been known to say times for you could  be worse you see life in a positive way
On the dole with a wife and two young children to support for work every day you do try
In life success does come to those who try hard and that to you too must apply
Eventually you will get a job start perserverance  for  you it will pay
Everything comes  to those who do wait this is what a wise one did say
If you can accept what life gives you in grace though you are in dire poverty
Then you are a person one ought to admire for a loser you never will be.

Nature Does Not Seem Settled

 A cool Summer day just nineteen degrees the sky it is looking quite gray
Behind the clouds well hidden from view the sun has not been out today
But the change in the weather not an unwelcome thing the dry ground is in need of rain
And by the weather forecast tomorrow will be warm and quite sunny again
The paddocks  it does seem in need of plenty rain surrounding the old country town
The long spell of dry and warm weather does tell on them today they do look quite bare and brown
But in parts of Queensland and northern New South Wales the overflowing waterways have flooded miles of countryside
And a few human lives  to the floods have been lost and thousands of animals of drowning have died
Compared to them our weather not bad at all since we have received little rain
But some people can be hard to satisfy and  will find a reason to complain
In the age of climate change weatherwise one can expect anything since  the weather seems so quick to change
Nature does not seem settled in her ways of late she has been acting strange
When she does grow angry in earthquakes, storms, floods and fires she gives rise to tears and heartbreak
And death and destruction and sorrow of loss she leaves behind her in her wake.

Monday, February 11, 2013

The Rose Of Ballydaly

She lived by the roadway that leads to Rathmore three miles west of old Millstreet Town
Her eyes were as blue as ripe November sloes and her wavy shoulder length hair brown
The Rose of Ballydaly lovely to behold down to earth and charming in her sweet way
Though she is now many years past her life's prime young in my memory she does stay

In her early twenties she left her first home for to learn about life elsewhere
The bug of the wander was in her young mind to see some of the big World  out there
To some lucky bloke did she become a  wife i wonder where she lives today
For anyone time it is  not known to wait on this we do not have a say

Memories of the beauty are with me today of a charming one so nice to meet
The pride of the roadway that leads to Rathmore three miles west of the Town of Millstreet
She had many suitors but none of them she did love before she sought adventure in life
I do not know where she is  living today or if she became some fellow's wife

The Rose of Ballydaly when i was young and that is a long time ago
And  time for anyone is not known to wait and it does become everyone's foe
She left Ballydaly's green countryside as many had done before
To follow her dreams in the World far beyond the road from Millstreet to Rathmore.

The Butcherbirds Of Birdsland

The bird with hooked bill and feathers of dark brown and gray
Sings on low branch of black wattle in Birdsland today
His is quite a musical bubbling song
From once heard the voice of the gray butcherbird would be hard to get wrong
In Birdsland the gray butcherbirds singing one often does hear
Their music distinctive  quite melodious and clear
The mouse skink or small bird that they do kill
They impale on a thorn and tear the flesh to eat with their hook on bill
Their butcher like behavior perhaps the reason as butcherbirds they are known
One can say of  them that they have ways of their own
Though the Yarra Ranges to me is not anywhere near
The butcherbirds of Birdsland i fancy i hear
With aggression even towards human they defend  nesting territory
Their bubbling songs once familiar to me.

As Weak As Piss

In the pub at night they do talk of the job
And all agree foreman Dick needs a smack in the gob
But in the workplace when big Dick to them is near
One harsh word to his face from them you will not hear

Big Dick a muscular man of a commanding size
To speak behind his back for them seems more wise
Than daring to say one angry word to his face
Suppose for everything there is a time and a  place

Their voices are loud but at will they are weak
What they think of Dick to his face they dare not speak
Even if they ganged up on him all of them he would beat
And when in his presence their words they must eat

They do all their talking behind big Dick's back
If he knew what they say of him their jaws he would crack
Acting like scared little boys in the workplace and talking like great warriors in the bar
One must say of their sort that they are what they are

The bar-room for them seems a safe enough place
For to talk of punching their foreman big Dick in the  face
As they drink their beer they boast of their manhood and their girlfriends they do kiss
But when in Dick's presence  they are as weak as piss.

Sunday, February 10, 2013

It Is Easy To Rhyme

With what i am about to say most people would agree
It is easy to rhyme as easy as can be
Dan rhymes with Ann and see rhymes with tree
It is easy to rhyme even easy for  me

It is easy to rhyme on such a nice day
The magpies do sing in the park by the  bay
Just a few clouds of gray in the sunny blue sky
And the swallows in pursuit of flying insects do chirp as they fly

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one who has written a whole  heap of stuff
The rhymes i email to the internet site
Are the type of rhymes anybody could write

My rhymes like wild rabbits in numbers do grow
That anybody can rhyme i for one ought to know
I add to my number of rhymes very day
Suppose i am one born for to be this way.

For Narcissistic People

For narcissistic people some  sympathy one  must spare
Since with most in common they have  little to share
But sad to think nowadays their kind are not rare
Their numbers on the increase of that i am aware
Their lives revolve around me, myself and i
And this  is how they will be till the day they do die
But suppose as people we cannot help the way we are
Some do take self love one might say way too far
Of love of self everyone is in need
Though too much of such for narcissism can plant the seed
Far too many nowadays their own praises only do sing
Excessive love of self for the mind is not a healthy thing
But for those obsessed with the self one must feel some sympathy
That they do seem quite unhappy would you not agree?

The Hero Is Dead

Of the young who died brave stories we read of and hear
They fell under gunfire in the gap of fear
But the wise one who did not go to fight in the war far away
Is happily married and a father today
Of men like him heroes are never made
And the last post at his grave will never be played
But the last post to life does not bring back the dead
And the so called coward of himself has years of life ahead
He does not live with regrets and life for him goes on
But the brave one from the World of the living has gone
The so called coward never does wave the National flag
And of his Country's greatness he never does brag
But of him many Seasons of living ahead
And whilst he is enjoying life the hero is dead.

Saturday, February 9, 2013

None Quite So Great

Since to  be one of  a tribe he has never shown the desire
He is one that most do find hard to admire
Like a bird without a flock he is one on his own
And apart from all others in his ways he has  grown
Yet his neighbour aged pensioner Mrs Watt of him says he is caring and kind
And that better than he is would be hard to find
He trims her hedge for her and her garden does weed
And only accepts minimum wages he is not one of  greed
One who never does crave any sort of renown
He will never become the toast of the town
The praises of anyone he never does sing
He lives in his own way and he does his own thing
But his  aged neighbour poor Mrs Watt does emphatically state
That than him as a person there is none  quite so great.

An Ordinary Rhymer

I never refer to myself as a poet
Nor should i be one worthy of literary note
Though i am one of those who has penned heaps of rhyme
In four decades of rhyming that is going back in time

Far apart in my thinking from some i have grown
As a good person i only wish to be known
So much truth in the  saying of live and let live
For to receive in life we must learn how to give

 I have loved our Earth Mother since i was a boy
And  learning of her ways today i enjoy
We will be learning from life till our life's final day
We never stop learning it does seem this way

To others i only wish to be more kind
And to pass judgement on them feel quite un-inclined
Of the feelings of others we ought to be more aware
Since they too have their crosses in life for to bear

The rhymes i do write do keep coming to me
But an ordinary rhymer is all i can be
I never refer to myself as a poet
Nor do i feel worthy of literary note.

Far South

Far south of the  road from Millstreet to Rathmore
Thousands of sky miles south of Hibernia's shore
Under a blue Summer sky with just a few clouds of gray
The silver billed magpie is singing today

Far south of Caherbarnagh and The Paps of Shrone
And old Gortavehy in his face of stone
Upon a low branch of a black wattle tree
The dainty magpie lark does call out pee wee

Old  Mushera looks cold in his white hat of snow
And across Aubane valley the frosty winds blow
But in the Land of the south it is  thirty degrees
And warmth in the  sunshine and warmth in the breeze

Old Clara obscured in the gray fogs  of rain
And brown storm water gurgling in the roadside drain
Far south it is sunny and breezy and bright
And white butterflies dancing in the  warm sunlight

Near where Finnow bank high to the Blackwater flow
The hungry cattle in farm shed for fodder bellow
Far south it is Summer and in the sunny sky
In pursuit of flying insects the dark swallows fly

Winter in Duhallow a cold and wet time of  year
Where the gales in the bare trees one often does hear
But far south as the migratory bird fly in the sunlit park by the bay
The wild birds are singing and whistling today.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Goodbye Denis Reardon

A magazine that by Millstreet and Duhallow migrants was read Worldwide
It is so sad to learn that The Clara News has died
The editor Denis Reardon his last editorial is  to write
For future news from the Millstreet Parish refer to the Milltsreet web site

Yes The Clara News editor Denis Reardon has called it a  day
But everything does have an ending since life is this way
Nothing last forever as some do like to say
The former fair Rose of Duhallow now cloaks her wrinkles and gray

Goodbye to Denis Reardon everyone must do for one's self what is best
In his literary career he is taking a rest
But if he should return to journalism in the future it would not be a surprise
As old loves do die hard from the  mouths of the  wise

Though for some of his editorials some of his political opponents did wish him in hell
Denis always does have a good story to tell
In life to make friends you will make a few foes
This is how it does have to be one must suppose

There is a silver lining to every dark cloud
Goodbye Denis Reardon you did yourself proud
Like it or not in The Clara News of your feelings you left none in doubt
Everyone who read you knew of what you were on about

The  Clara News  is now history to the forever gone
And time it does not wait and life does go on
And though the magazine he has edited is now of the past
One has the feeling of Denis that we have not heard the last.

I Do Stand For Something

My achievements in life compared to most others may seem small
But i do stand for something and that is a fair go for all
Of people of all Races of white, black and brown
Colour, race or creed or gender should not be for anyone a barrier to renown
Of discrimination in the Human Race we are not in need
Since everyone's blood does flow red when they bleed
In humanity no such a thing as a superior race
In the twenty first century for such thinking there ought not to be a place
Of  a fair go in life none we ought to deny
Such a  thing to everyone ought to apply
But a fair go for everyone often is not the case
As some  are condemned by their colour or race
The spirit in the fair go is a beautiful thing
And the praises of such i feel happy to sing.

Kanturk In Late January

In the depths of Winter far north in Duhalow old Allow River in flood waters of brown
In the bare fields it rushes on bank high towards the Blackwater and through Kanturk Town
Late January cold and wet in Duhallow when the old Boggeraghs wear their hats of snow
In the bare trees the winter gales howling down from the northern mountains they do blow
Late January in Kanturk often far from pleasant only the memories i have to retain
Of the fields from the overnight frost gray and hardened the frost that always does bring heavy rain
On the bare hedgerows the migratory redwings are chirping they will fly home for to breed in the Spring
The northern Countries  they come from in Winter far colder than  Duhallow weather too can be a relative thing
Winter in Kanturk like in all parts of Ireland is far from a beautiful time of year
The cold gray dawning is bereft of bird song the cattle bellowing for feed in farmsheds is all one does hear
I only tell you of  what happens to be true  of Winter in Duhallow windy, wet and cold
To write of such i just happen to be one of many similar stories by others are told
Where the Allow from heavy rain swollen bank high in the old  fields in flood waters of brown
In a great hurry to join the Blackwater roaring it's way on through old Kanturk Town.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

John Coleman The Man

John Coleman the man who played rugby and with Cork and Millstreet played gaelic football
By many today he is  remembered as the  man who made big men seem small
In seventy three with Cork he won an All Ireland along with fellow Clubmen Con Hartnett, Humphrey Kelleher and Denis Long
They became heroes of Cork County and were honoured in story and song

Like is said of the past it is in the forever gone
But his tussles with Clonakilty's big Tim F Hayes in memory lives on
At the hits taken and given between the colossus of Clon and Millstreet's tigerish centre back
One does have to wonder why bones did not crack

But any hard feelings between them was always left on the  field of play
At the ref's final whistle they always shook hands and bid each other good day
The likes of such men we may not see again
And such good memories of them at their best we retain

Of the sporting achievements of John and his champion brother rally driver Billy the legend does  grow
Bonfires often blazed for them in Minor Row
And though the Coleman brothers are admired far and wide
They always take the mantle of fame in their stride

A great hero of Millstreet who is getting old
Of John Coleman the man many stories are told
I watched  him play gaelic football many Seasons ago
Many years before time did become his foe.

Mrs C

Whenever i meet her she  is always smiling in a surly mood her i have yet for to see
Happiness does always seem to be with her The happy go lucky bubbly Mrs C
With two very pretty brown haired little daughters the eldest is five and the youngest is three
Her husband he is a quiet sort of a fellow to her he is different as different as can be
An attractive  woman in her late twenties her hair to her shoulders is wavy and brown
She possess a charm that is quite infectious the nicest person on her side of the town
For one so attractive she is unconceited she smiles to everyone  and bids them good day
Wherever she goes to happiness goes with her about her she does have such a charming way
Wherever i see her she is always smiling with her daughters in the park or on the street
Happiness always does seem to be with her and she is one i do feel happy to meet
Perhaps she too may well have her own worries though she appears as one without a care
For  one so pretty so warm and friendly the Mrs C's of the  World are rare
Wherever she goes to joy seems to go with her of any care she is one who seems free
The town is better for her living in it the charming, down to earth and  beautiful Mrs C.

So Lucky Indeed

So lucky indeed are they who are not greedy who with what they have got feel quite satisfied
Who never do wish they were wealthy and famous and by luck in any feel they have never been denied
They feel privileged they have enough for to comfortably live on and poverty never did have to endure
They never do envy others their successes and feel happy to live as financially secure
They have no wish for to be known as succesful and a higher profile they do not desire
With what they have in life they do seem quite happy in them one can say there is much to admire
In a time when so many people in their lives are not happy they crave recognition through life's success
I do envy the people in their lives contented since others they do not feel the need to impress
Some of the wealthy and famous seem not at all happy which leaves one to wonder why this should be
Some people can never learn for to live happy at least anyhow that'show it seems to me
With others for their idea of what success is always competing suppose they cannot help the way that they are
Than their neighbours they want a bigger home and a nicer garden and for to drive in a far bigger car
So lucky are they in their minds the contented happy with what they have  they do never complain
With what they have in life they do feel quite happy and they never do envy others their gain.

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

An Over Inflated Ego

An over inflated ego for it's owner is not a good thing
Those who suffer of such an addiction their own praises only do sing
Life as such does revolve around them enamoured in their own success
Any interest in others than self they never do seem to express

An ego when over-inflated not good for the health of the mind
The one who has such is not a nice person and to others could never be kind
Far too many of these sort of people in the Human World of today
Who with themselves feel quite enamoured and this does seem a sad thing to say

Yet i know of many compassionate people who of self have little to say
For to help those in need of helping they always go out of their way
One reason that they are the way  they are is that their egos are under control
An ego that is over-inflated not healthy for the mind or the soul

An over-inflated ego not good for it's owner of that there can be little doubt
It is fair to say it is something that one would be better without
Far too many over pumped egos their sort does lack in empathy
As some like to say as people from each other we are as different as can be.

I Might Feel A Stranger

Where i did first look on the bright lamp of day
I might feel a straanger by Clara from here far away
A stranger to many in Claraghatlea by Millstreet Town
Where i used to live  when my hair was dark brown

I have not been in Millstreet for twenty six years
But for my fading memories of it i have shed all of  my tears
I do not feel nostalgic like i used to before
For the roadway from Millstreet that leads to Rathmore

Koroit twenty minutes by car from the City of Warrnambool
Is a long way south of where i went to school
Though not known here to be local it is home to me
Where we live to us home would you not agree?

Tomorrow will come and yesterday has gone
And we live in the now and life does go on
Perhaps the boys i went to school with like  me showing signs of time's decay
Some of them are the aging grandads of today

Of what used to be only memories remain
Though in fancy i walk in the  old fields again
I recall many of them had their own given name
If i see them today perhaps they would look the same

As the old fields i loved as a shy country boy
Memories of them to me remain a source of joy
The scratchy calls of the corncrake  on a  Summer's night
In the unmown meadow in the dim moonlight

A thing i will remember until the day i die
The past remains  with me of that why should i lie
But the now is all that does matter and the possibility with me remain
That i may never walk in the old fields again.

Only The Memories

The leaves on the trees gently stirring in the breeze
In weather temperatures near to perfect of twenty degrees
In the blue and sunny sky just a  few clouds of gray
How good to be living on such a nice day

The birds who do sing every day of the year
The flute like songs of the magpies melodious and clear
The pee wees are calling in the park by the bay
Earthly Utopia from this place cannot be far away

Of my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
But in Nature no shortage of things for  one to rhyme about
In our Earth Mother so much beauty for all to admire
Of singing her praises could one ever tire

The children in the park playground are enjoying their play
Youth does have it's fling as some are known to say
The sound of their laughter a thing of great joy
Bring back memories  to me of life as a boy

Where north of this town in a paark far away
My young friends and i we did laugh at our play
And only the memories with me now remain
Of a time that i never can live in again.

Tuesday, February 5, 2013

Eventually Time

The days and the weeks and the months do go fast
And  memories are all we have left of the past
Some awoke this morning to their life's final day
This is how life is and it will always be this way
As for all other life forms the same for you and i
We are born into life to eventually die
Death is part of life that's how  it seems to be
At least anyhow that's how it sees to me
In science and technology human beings have come far
But we are not as great as we think that we are
Like  the Seasons of Nature people to and from life do go
And eventually time becomes everyone's foe
A century of years of life only known to a few
You may say to that tell us something that is new.

I Yearn For A Home By The Hills

I would love to live in a place that is far quieter where no factory chimney puffs smoke  to the sky
In a cottage by a clear flowing creek from the foothills a short walk from a mountain wood nearby
Miles from the noisy streets full of man made air pollution from where life's cares are born many miles away
Where Nature lives free of human interference i daydream of such a place every day
In fancy i hear the lark above the mountain up to the clouds to sing he has to fly
And upwards ever upwards he  keeps singing a fading musical speck in the sky
To live in such a  place would be my Earthly Utopia far from where noise and air pollution it is rife
It is not a sin for to wish for something better though few can have what they want most in life
The man and  his wife my neighbours at each other are shouting in an hour they will walk in the  park hand in hand
Forgive me if in some of the ways of people i sometimes struggle for to understand
The ways  of Nature than humans i do feel is far easier for to get to know
And my wonderment of her and her ways only does seem for to grow and grow
This is why i do yearn for a home by the hills many miles from the noisy town
Where on the streets the cars and big trucks and buses at all times of day are buzzing up and down.

The Rhymes I Write

The rhymes i write i found them in the river and in the valley and the the field and  lake
And  i found them where the wind soughs in the tall trees and i found them in the bird song at daybreak
And i found them in the lives of other people in their times of sorrow and their times of joy
And i found them in the children of the playground the skipping girl and the running boy

The rhymes i write i found them on the hedgerows and i found them on the bushes and the  trees
And i found them in the beauty of the wildflowers and the buzzings of the nectar gathering bees
And  i found  them in the warmth of the sunshine and i found them in the wind and in the rain
They came  to me for them i did not pay money and from them i do not expect any gain

The rhymes i write i found them on the  mountains and in the brown lark who to sing has to fly
Above the hill how sweetly he does carol a fading musical speck in the sky
I found them in the creatures of the darkness and i found them in the creatures of the day
I write them down for others for to read them and for them i do never receive pay

The rhymes i write are simple little ditties and easy to write as easy as can be
I am one of many ordinary rhymers there are many in the World just like me
I used to think when i was Seasons younger that one day i might grow to be a poet
But i remain an ordinary rhymer i will never know of literary note.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Be Kind To All Creatures

Be kind  to all creatures scaly, furry and hairy
From the blue whale to the singing canary
They too like us were born for some reason
And bring forth new life when in their breeding Season
Be kind to pigs, sheep and birds and cattle
For to survive they do have their own battle
Eventually we kill them for to eat them
At least with dignity we ought to treat them
For them like us the sun sets and rises
Be kind to creatures of all shapes and sizes
We share the  World with them we are not their ruler
Those cruel to creatures to people no less crueler
Be kind to all creatures scaly, furry and hairy
From the blue whale to the singing canary.

I Admire

I admire the person the he or the she
Who speak on the rights of people who must endure the poverty
Inflicted upon them by the forces of greed
Every friend they do have in the World they do need

I admire the one who against racism speak out
And of his or her feelings on the matter leaves no one in doubt
Such noble people i have to admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire

I admire the people who speak out against oppression of every kind
Despite the threat of loss of freedom the courage in them they do find
To speak where most their silence would choose to keep
They stand apart from those who follow like sheep

I admire the people who does answer the  call
To speak on behalf of the fair go for all
In them and their way of thinking so much to admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire.

The World's Greatest Beauty

The World's greatest beauty i do not pay for to see
The beauty of Nature everywhere around me
That to look at money i do not have to pay
The unrivalled beauty i do see every day
The one who has in her the magical power
For to create a tree and a beautiful flower
Our Earth Mother who feeds all creatures great and small
The wonderful one who takes care of us all
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And from her every day we do learn something new
The one who sustain us for as long as we live
Yet we take and take from her and in return to her little give
The beauty she creates is beyond compare
And  beauty with all that she is willing to share.

Sunday, February 3, 2013

At Our Lack Of Success

Have you ever felt that you are a failure complete
One without success on an ordinary street
Of what happens  to be quite an ordinary town
Where anyone cannot lay claim to renown

Where everyone are judged by their life's success
You are one of those who does fail to impress
The people who between people like to differentiate
Between those they see as failures and they see as great

Behind the achievers you do feel you lag
As you do not have achievements of which you can brag
Whilst the egotistical of their successes do boast
And smile in conceit when some to them drink a toast

It is true what is said the winner can grin
In a Human World where many do fail for one for to win
You may ask the question of how this can be
But for an answer to this ask one other than me

Suppose it is true that our feelings we own
And such feelings as you have by many are known
In our words our sense of failure we express
In our disappointment at our lack of success.

An Unsung Heroine

To help those in need of helping she goes out of her way
And i do see her often though not every day
The kind hearted woman who lives three doors down
The unsung heroine of our side of the town
In her early to mid seventies her hair silver gray
A beautiful person of her one can say
A widow and a grandmother one compassionate and kind
Her very equal would be quite hard to find
She  always has a smile on her beautiful face
The Human World for her in it is a much better place
It does seem all wrong that she remains as unsung
She would be lauded as a heroine were she  beautiful looking and young
We live in an ageist society today
Suppose for growing old there has to be some price  to pay.

The Man On His Own

They shoal together as fish do in a river pool
And  they dismiss the one  indifferent to them as a fool
Apart in his ways from the tribe  he has grown
A true individual is the man on his own

The praises of anyone he never does sing
He lives in his own way and he does his own thing
The friendships of others he does not seem to need
One might say he is one of a very rare breed

As a boy he was a loner and time has not caused him to change
In the prime of his life the judgemental look on him as strange
But since with them he has nothing in common to share
What others say of him he does not seem to care

He does not have a lover or a partner but of him it is said
That for sexual enjoyment he goes to the brothel instead
For his pleasures in life he is prepared to pay
The man on his own does things in his own way.

Saturday, February 2, 2013

I Was The Dunce Of The School

I was called many cruel things in my young years such as buffoon and idiot and fool
Such insults to me were quite hurtful when i was the dunce of the school
I remember in primary school at the teacher i used to stick out my tongue at him behind his back
Till once he did happen to see me at it which left my right palm sore and black

When young i was a local ratbag a bit of a  wild country boy
But learning of the ways of Nature a thing that i used to enjoy
And with Nature there is none to compare this is fact and fact never lie
Than us humans she is so much greater we go back to her when we die

You ask me why i don't have children i give  you here one reason why
In my twenties i watched others get the young women to chat them up i was too shy
Many of the boys i went to school with are aging grandfathers today
And some of them not aging with grace in cosmetics and hair dyes they hide the signs of time's decay

I remember the  nuns of the  convent in fairness some of them okay
Though some of them were cruel to children and i mean cruel in a  cruel way
I recall that they used to beat me for  my sins to them i did pay
But i am big enough to forgive them since at peace they forever do lay

Some of the priests on sunday preaching from the pulpit instilled in us the fear of god
They waffled on about morals and chastity which to say the  least seemed a bit odd
As our train of thought often betrays us and our body language our pivate thoughts  often divulge
When in the presence of young women in their trousers always a big bulge

Some of the boys i went to school with i did get along with okay
I often do wonder about them how many of them might be living today
We went on our separate life journeys and no two life journeys exactly the same
As a boy i was often called Francie though Francis is my given name

But some i went to school with i never could take to since they felt so superior to me
To prove themselves better than others they could boast of their uni degree
So full of their own self importance they became the  snobs of the town
Suppose you have some to look up to if on others you choose to look down

I used to be so proud to be one from Millstreet but of that i'm not proud anymore
Of the Parish i loved and was raised in i have never felt this way before
In Millstreet they follow the leader suppose they always were this way inclined
On injustices fueled by racism they seem to be  ignorant or blind

The so called community leaders of Millstreet did seem to have nothing to say
When a young man who was seeking asylum from his wife and children from there was taken away
And worse a few suggested that he was not a good person though him they did not even know
In everyone who is judgemental their ignorance in their words does show

Some brave souls did speak out for Kamar though most of them not from Millstreet and living elsewhere
They can empathize with those who do know of the hard life from the bigger World out there
Perhaps i have said enough on the matter since enough is enough as some say
Suppose i am a man of my own thinking and i look at life in my own way

The things i disliked of in Millstreet i see all around me today
My past me far south it did follow and with me till i die will stay
In every town i have lived in the things i dislike in others i see
Could they be  my reflective mirror are they that much different to me?

Snobbery, racism and class distinction are with us for to stay it does seem
At least this is how i do see it one shackled by low self esteem
I now  live in Koroit in Victoria near the City of Warrnambool
Far south of Millstreet in Duhallow where i was the dunce of the  school.

To Our Earth Mother

The men who dig up your ground and steal from you your gold
In money have grown wealthier but not wiser as they grow old
Where big machines have been digging huge holes in numbers abound
This is always the case where men dig in the ground
Mother Earth our greatest achievements to your's does seem small
You are the one who does feed and take care of us  all
Those who think they do own you have got it all wrong
Since you are  the one  to whom we do belong
Into you we were born and we must return to you one day
And in your cool earthy bosom our  last remains will lay
It is a fact for life on you we are dependant and fact never lie
We depend on you to live without you we would die
Yet from you our Earth Mother the one whom we depend on for  to live
We take and we take and in return to you nothing give.

Friday, February 1, 2013

Sad For Me

Sad for me to think that as a boy i was nearer to the universal god than i am today
The years have left me feeling bitter i look at life in a cynical way
Some people with age seem to mellow with me it is not this way at all
Though i do feel joy in old memories when happier days i recall
When i was a boy in the fifties the World to me seemed a beautiful place
I marvelled at the song of the dipper he sang where the stream rapids did race
On through the  fields to the big river that to the great ocean does flow
I was learning of the ways of Nature and  of Nature  there is so much to know
The years have left me feeling cynical though i knew of happiness as a  boy
I felt happy learning of Nature something today i too enjoy
From Nature we never stop learning we learn from her every day
Life for  us has so many lessons or at least it does seem this way
As a boy to god i was far nearer off of life's happy path i did stray
But from life i have learned one lesson that for my every mistake i must pay.

Nothing In Common To Share

At one of the posh uptown restaurants with his wealthy friends and wife and family he dine
And the meals that he order are not cheap and he drink the most expensive beer and wine
I know him just to see in passing and that in itself suits me  fine
Since we seem to share little in common and  his  values are different to mine

I often see him with his wife and teenage son and daughter in his new mercedes driving on the street of the town
He seems  so full of his own self importance his material success has brought him local renown
Maybe of him i sound a bit jealous but i only write of what i do see
He does not apear as one of the humble he does seem up himself to me

A new home and  big new car and a swimming pool in his backyard the trappings of material success
A cynical fellow like i am such things never seem to impress
like i do say our values are different no two look at life in the same way
The last time we met him i said hello to but to me he had nothing to say

Perhaps he sees me as one  to him inferior but what he thinks of me with me okay
We do mix in different company though him i do see every day
I said hello to him a few times but for me he did not have one word to spare
Like i say we have different values with nothing in common to share.

Connie Hartnett

Though that is going back now four decades in time
I remember Connie Hartnett when he was in his prime
One of Cork and Millstreet's great players of gaelic football
And quite a nice person as i do recall

For great Millstreet gaelic footballers one must go to the past
And Connie Hartnett was one of them he was skilful and fast
A clean and sporting player and so quick on his feet
And so often a hero for Cork and Millstreet

Irish gaelic football fans by him were often impressed
As he was quite a player when he was at his best
An attacking defender the dashing half back
Often sent Club and County deep into attack

One of the great gaelic footballers from the Town by Clara Hill
A player who was blessed with speed and with skill
His physical best years in life to the forever gone
But of the player he was the good memories live on

Why Millstreet faded as a force in Cork gaelic football seems hard to explain
And only memories  of their greatness with us now remain
Many of the Club's heroes are deceased and the rest getting old
They brought so much pride to the great green and gold

I believe Connie Hartnett is aging in Millstreet Town today
That time even takes care of the  best it does seem this way
When i say the years on us all do eventually show
Am i telling you something that you already know?