Sunday, June 30, 2013

It May Not Be By Cashman's Hill

Though two miles west of there i first saw light of day
It may not be by Cashman's Hill my last remains will lay
Or if i am cremated that will not be worrying me
The dead are past all caring and what will be will be
On looking back the decades how fast the years went by
Time does not wait for any one how quickly it seems to fly
It seems like only yesterday when i was in my life's prime
But that was nearly forty ago and this is going back in time
The school boy of the fifties now showing his years in gray
And it is obvious he is one who has known a better day
It has been twenty seven years since i last heard a cow
On a nice Summer's evening in a field by the Finnow
But sooner or later death comes to us all on that we can depend
And a long way south of Claragahtlea my life's journey may end.

When People Ask Me

When people ask me what part of Ireland i am from i tell them from Millstreet
Not too far from the rushy fields where the rivers do meet
From old Claraghatlea in view of Clara Hill
Just a few minutes walk from the silver tongued rill
That from the higher fields babbles night and day
To the rivers to the ocean many miles away
The passage of time has left it's mark on me
And a Claraghatlea fellow is all i can be
A mile at the most west of Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
And though i have not been there for many a year
Fond memories are with me of a place i love dear
And if someone ask what part of Ireland i am from i tell them from Millstreet
Not too far from the rushy fields where the rivers do meet.

By Lake Wendouree

In Ballarat off of Pleasant Street by Lake Wendouree
The familiar calls of the magpie larks the birds known to some as pee wee
From the pee wee sounding intermittent calls that they are known to make
Near where the female black duck are quacking on the waters of the lake

By Lake Wendouree a year ago on a nice Summer's day
I met the Rose of Wendouree memories of her with me stay
With shoulder length wavy hair  as dark as raven's wing and lovely sloe blue eyes
A lovely young woman in life's prime without conceit to disguise

In a place of such beauty she did not seem out of place
She said hello in greeting with a smiling pretty face
Wherever she is at today joy is to be found
For she carries it with her and shares it around

A silver billed magpie was warbling on a black wattle tree
When i met her on the pathway by the lake of Wendouree
A beautiful young woman in the bloom of her prime
A memory from a few years ago that will not fade with time.

Saturday, June 29, 2013

Most People Have Their Worries

Most people have their own worries or so it would appear
And of your life's problems few do wish for to hear
When you are in trouble few for support on whom you can depend
At such a time you do come to know of your true friend
The one with heaps of money his or her friends are not in the few
To this you may well even say do tell us something that is new
But then the super rich though they think they know will never know who their friends are
Since such people for their admirers never need to look that far
Most people have their worries and would you not agree
That you do not wish to know of others worries if you are in poverty
This is how it always is and it always will be
That you know your friends when you are down does make good sense to me
When you do tell to others of the troubles you have known
From them do not expect sympathy if they have worries of their own.

The Past In The Forever

The past in the forever but the memories live on
Of the good times i knew in decades long gone
When i was a boy many decades ago
Long before time on my body did become my foe
In  the fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
Some creatures of Nature i first got to know
The fox and the badger, the rabbit and hare
And the hedgehog back then who was known to be rare
In Spring the birds built their nests on ground, bush and tree
I knew some of them by voice and most of them to see
Till the lure of the wander did lure me away
From the place where i first looked on the lamp of day
And only the memories with me now remain
Of a past that i never can live in again.

Poor Syria

In the Syrian civil war one hundred thousand people reportedly have died
And thousands badly injured and thousands of homes destroyed
And in Lebanon one million Syrian war refugees
Of war and it's brutality never any good memories
And the great western powers on a peace plan for Syria cannot agree
Politics before people's lives and suffering this is how it is and will always be
In wars people are dying and being injured, homeless and dispossessed  every day
War men have not learned from past wars it does seem this way
Poor Syria the Land of death, bloodshed and tears
The civil war there it could go on for years
And for war refugees no welcome anywhere
In their search for a safe home in the big World out there
Thousands have died and have been injured in the war in Syria far away
Humanity has it's dark side this does seem fair to say.

Friday, June 28, 2013

Lilli Wilkinson

A native of Warrnambool where she is well liked and widely known
The lovely dark haired Lilli Wilkinson in a class of her own
And looking quite well for one in years of ten with three score
The Human World of her sort is in need of far more

A woman of generosity of spirit one loving and kind
Her very equal would not be easy to find
She grieved for her beloved husband Tony who died a few years ago
And that time is the great healer of grief  it ever is so

The sadder side of life of she has come to know
Her husband Tony suffered much his death painful and slow
How very sad indeed for some life can be
It does have it's heartbreaks would you not agree?

About her she has such a generous way
The woman who does her good deeds every day
A kind hearted person one free of conceit
 Lilli Wilkinson as good as one would wish for to meet.

Nature Lives Forever More

The high paddocks green in Springtime in the Summer does look brown
On the narrow mountain roadway that leads to Wonthaggi Town
Way back in the pre pioneering days on those old hills were many trees
Where Australia's first people lived and hunted and had their corroborees
For to create land for farming the pioneer farmers removed the scrub and trees from the high ground
Few trees nowadays for to be seen where in numbers they did abound
The new people brought with them changes to the high coastal countryside
And with the birth of a new culture the old culture sadly died
In  hidden graves in high coastal Gippsland the bones of the black tribes lay
They would not know the land they lived on if they returned to life today
The mountain road from Loch to Wonthaggi that often inspired the creators of art, story and rhyme
That i often used to drive on though i've not driven there now for some time
Near Archies Creek one can see the white waves splash on the Pacific shore
People come and go as always but Nature lives forever more.

They Should Not Have To Live In Fear

In some Countries it is a crime for people to live as gay
The people who are not responsible for the over-population of the Human World of today
Discriminated against for their sexual preferences which ought to be a basic human right
To live as equal to all others for them does seem an uphill fight
People who are not heterosexual of redneck gangs must live in fear
Every day on news radio and in  the newspaper we do read of and hear
People bashed because of their sexual preferences even in democratically run Countries
It does seem utterly appalling crimes against minorities
Those who do not have self love in them respect to others cannot show
Crimes against the vulnerable minorities World-wide in numbers grow
Things in some cases have not changed much from the dark ages in this twenty first century
In a just and equal Human World people of fear of others would live free
For his or for her sexual preference they should not be made to pay
They should not have to live in fear of others people who do live as gay.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Have You Ever Felt So Lonely

Have you ever felt so lonely as you fought to fight back the tears
When you thought of friends and family members that you had not seen for years
Some of them with life's departed and in the flesh never more to see
Often times our fondest memories can feel sad as sad can be

Have you ever felt so lonely that you've felt life is scarce worthwhile
And to all others you seemed grumpy when to them you could not bring yourself to smile
As you replied to their greetings  with a sour faced hello
It is hard when you feel lonely and time has become your foe

Your biological clock is ticking many decades past your prime
But some sad comfort in your memories of for you a happier time
But life goes on around you and you feel lonely on your own
With none to share with you the memories of the good times you have known

The happy days of the past becomes a memory of a time forever gone
And though you are feeling sad and lonely life around you does go on
Out there in the sunlit park-land children laugh as they play ball
Years from now they will have the memories of their life's happy moments to recall

Have you ever felt so lonely that the tears you fought to choke
In the company of others when you could not laugh at a joke
There are many others like you who feel lonely every day
Who cling to the comfort they find in their old memories in decay.

In Fancy

In fancy i can hear the robin singing on a sunlit leafy alder tree
In my thoughts today he lives near me and him i often hear and see
The past i did not leave behind me from a far place i brought it with me
To grow old far south of my first home-place in life became my destiny
No different to most other people in life for me many an up and down
The lust of the wander did take me from my first home by Millstreet Town
There today i would be a stranger to many the years have left me looking balder and gray
I have shed my last tears of nostalgia but the old memories with me does stay
Of when i was young in Duhallow old memories are mine to enjoy
In my first home in Claragahtlea i fell in love with Nature i even loved her as a boy
In Spring the dipper he sang in the old stream that to the ocean bound river did flow
When i visualize i can hear him the dark brown bird with breast white as snow
A migrant far south of my first home-place and an aging victim of time
I left Claraghatlea my first home-place when i was ten years past my prime.

Most Of Us

Most of us have our good times and tough times and days when we border on despair
Of ever again feeling happy and tell ourselves life is unfair
But in time happiness does return to us life has it's many an up and down
And friends you do not have in plenty if you are the sad sack of the town
You may never know the feeling of happiness unless you know how it feels to be sad
You take life as it does come to you the good days as well as the bad
Almost impossible to always feel happy we have our times of sadness and self doubt
And mixture of good and of bad days this is what life can be about
Though some seem more perfect than others in all of us there is some flaw
Life and it's trials and tribulations can often be like Murphy's Law
Most of us have our good and our bad days this is how it is and will always be
This is how it is for most people and this is how it is for me
And suppose if we were always happy and on all things in life did agree
We would then be quite near to perfect but perfection it is not for humanity.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

From St Mary's By Cashman's Hill

From St Mary's by Cashman's Hill where many of the dead of Millstreet are
On a cold day in Winter Heaven in distance does seem to be far
And many of them believed in God in Heaven from old St Mary's far away
Where their mortal remains in the dark earth forever in peace do lay

I wish them happiness in Heaven for whilst living they lived in fear of Hell
And in life many of them knew each other though at all times did not get along well
But there is always peace in St Mary's amongst the dead there is harmony
Dead people get on well together only the living disagree

Cannot say of a post Earhly life Heaven or of a post Earthly life Hell
Since any deceased person i have known of their existence have not come back to tell
Me of an after Earthly death life if there is one people Worldwide who have things in common and to the same God Do pray
In life may not like each other but in death there is peace where they lay.

Most of the elders of my young years on politics could not agree
But i am going far back in time now to at least close to half of a century
Political parties founded on civil war politics their followers never fail to divide
This is not restricted to any one  Country this is something that happens Worldwide

In St Mary's in the Tanyard in Millstreet by Cashman's Hill on a Winter's day
It is a cold place for to be in and Heaven from there does seem far away
Even far from an Earthly Utopia the wind in it has a cold chill
That blows down from the higher country across the face of Cashman's Hill.

It Is Harder To Make A Good Friend

In life it is hard to make a trusting friend and easy to make a foe
And our past goes with us to wherever we go
Few do wish to know the sad sack of the town
And you will never know your friends until you are financially down
It is an old saying but a true saying indeed
That you will not know who your friends are till of friends you are in need
When you are in need your true friends true to you will stay
This is how it is and has always been this way
Your best friends may not be those you socialize with and with wine and dine
And your life's experiences quite different to mine
If we all were the same how boring we would be
If on all things without question we did agree
It is harder to make a good friend than a foe
And our past does go with us to wherever we go.

Why Tell Me About It

Why tell me about it when i already know
That in life it is known we reap what we sow
Or what goes around come around as some like to say
We pay for our sins in some sort of a way

If the law does not get you Karma will one day
For our sins against others the price we must pay
From life we receive what is only our due
That we sow what we reap i believe to be true

Why tell me about it when i know all too well
That for many good people life can be an Earthly Hell
I cannot even say why this should be
For an answer to this ask one other than me

Can only say that maybe in their poverty they are paying for ancestral crime
Since on Karma there never is a use by time
For the sins of the grandparent the grand child does pay
Since Karma as is said often works in this way.

Tuesday, June 25, 2013

This Loneliness

This loneliness is such a deflating thing
Such a deep sadness to the mind it does bring
Like a toxic disease few it does seem to spare
It even can affect the billionaire
Loneliness is not a nice one to know
Like a cancer within the mind it does grow
The one who does eat happiness away
So many lonely people in the World today
Loneliness can be where laughter it is loud
The odd one out in the very happy crowd
The workings of the human mentality
To understand far too big a thing for me
And sad am i to even have to say
That lonely people i meet every day.

Live In The Now

Time has left me looking quite old and gray
And i never do look at life beyond today
The now is all that does matter and the future ahead
And the past just a memory since the past it is dead
I am what i am this is all i can be
And in this respect you are no different to me
On the ladder of success i have not climbed far
But i am far luckier than most people are
I have never experienced real poverty
And i have never been homeless or a refugee
So i try to be happy and make the most of my day
And  live in the now as the wise one did say
Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And live in the now and life does go on.

Those Who Tell Us

Those who tell us we can be anything that we wish to be
Are talking a whole lot of bulldust it does seem to me
I cannot become the monarch or i cannot become the pope
Or of becoming the president i do not have a hope

In life you can only do the best you can do
And at what you are good at some better than you
Super positive people tell you that you can be anything you choose
To be in a World where for every winner many have to lose

As a school going boy i used to daydream
Of being a star player in the World's greatest football team
But as a footballer i never made the grade
With second grade junior teams i only ever played

Those who say you can be anything that you wish for to be
Are talking a whole lot of bunkum would you not agree
It is in your mind only you can become anything
I will never become pope or president or king.

Monday, June 24, 2013

The Old Country Town

Though many young people have dreams of becoming a great name
The old country town is no launching pad to fame
And though many with my opinions on this may not agree
This is how it is and it always will be
It does seem a long hike to wealth and renown
From the often quiet streets of the old country town
Where from for success and adventure most of the young move to elsewhere
For to try out their luck in the big World out there
Though great success in life does not come everyone's way
In the big cities they find love and raise their children and grow old and gray
Though some never wish to live in places far away
And in the old country town are quite happy to stay
And in the old country town raise their children and grow old and die
That we all see things differently is not a lie.

Where Bass Waters Flow

In my flights of fancy the pale eyed crow
Caws on a black wattle near where Bass waters flow
In South West Gippsland on it's way to the Pacific shore
In a babble that will live forever more
Long before South Gippsland and Bass was was given it's name
And centuries before the first people to Australia came
The old water-way to the ocean did flow
How old is the Bass would anyone know?
In long gone Summers near the river in the shade of the trees
Australia's first people danced their corroborees
Since then many Seasons have come and have gone
But the old water-way to the ocean flows on
It's journey in the flat countryside to the ocean shore
In a babbling voice that will live forever more.

I May Not Have Grown Wiser

I may not have grown wiser though i've grown older and gray
But i have not grown bitter since this is not my way
Life is for living and live in the day
And we never stop learning as some like to say
For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one who has penned a whole heap of stuff
Though i cannot lay claim to the title of poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
Physically and mentally my best days in life to the forever gone
But true to my calling i keep rhyming on
And i just want to learn to live and let live
And the sins against me be willing to forgive
And for my good Karma plant the good seed
By helping the person of helping in need.

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Where The Blackwater Flow

Her hair is as dark as the wings of a crow
The girl from the town where the blackwater flow
And her eyes are as blue as the clear sunny sky
Of a Summer's day in the northern July

And though she often does think of her old home far away
She is in the sunny southern city for the long stay
Some twenty thousand kilometers or more
From where the Blackwater flows to the Atlantic shore

For a young Aussie fellow a lovely devoted young wife
With a two year old daughter the pride and joy of their life
And though to her fond memories she will always cling dear
For the town by the Blackwater she has shed her last tear

In her backyard a magpie is warbling on a gray gum tree
And the magpie lark sings his familiar pee wee
Far south of the home of the silver back crow
Where the mighty Blackwater to the Atlantic flow.

If The Law Does Not Get You

To some the taking of human life it is cheap
But it is true that in life what we sow we do reap
The law may not punish those who callously kill
But what the law fails to do Karma surely will
Yes in Karma i believe we do reap what we sow
Good crops from poor seed never known for to grow
Though few look at life in the very same way
And that opinions are just that it does seem fair to say
The political prisoners of conscience never committed a crime
Yet for their opinions serving years of prison time
Whilst many murderers are living wealthy and free
But to Karma for their crimes they will pay this is how it seems to me
If the law does not get you for your crimes sooner or later one day
To Karma the big price you will have to pay.

Those Affected By Xenophobia

Those affected by xenophobia not rare and not hard to be found
In fact in large numbers they seem to abound
Always waving their national flags in every national parade
It is mostly from those who cannot embrace difference that national heroes are made

Many of those affected by xenophobia that they are not racist will try to have you believe
But with their words themselves they only deceive
Xenophobia and racism in people who take nationalism to the extreme
And no shortage of their sort nowadays it does seem

Those affected by xenophobia in their ways are so small
They believe on a fair go for themselves and their own kind but not on a fair go for all
In their minds those of different nationality and race are those they should fear
And of a multicultural society they do not wish to hear

Those affected by xenophobia of change live in dread
Their heroes of their own kind and most of their heroes are dead
A fair go for themselves and their own kind is their idea of a fair go
And everyone not of their kind they see as a foe.

Saturday, June 22, 2013

A Smile And Hello

A smile and hello does not cost you a thing
And joy to some stranger's day it well may bring
The sour faced and moody few wish for to know
Since they do seem lacking in the inner glow
A smile on your face and a cheerful hello
Are things that will never make for you a foe
Being surly and withdrawn will never make you a friend
People like happy people why otherwise pretend
The one with a sad face and always feeling down
Will never become the best loved one in town
For the reason for this no need to ask me
Since the answer is obvious as obvious as can be
On how we treat others we do have a choice
As the wise one would say it is nice to be nice.

We Only Have Memories

My working life varied worked at this and that
Felled pine trees near Mushera lay pipes near Ballarat
Worked on travel towers in the Yarra Ranges trimming tall trees
In all sorts of weather of varying degrees

Just rough laboring  jobs with work hardened men
But i was much younger, fitter and stronger back then
Since i am going back in time to a few decades ago
And time as we know eventually becomes everyone's foe

The years have left me looking older, balder and gray
And those sort of jobs would be too hard for me today
Men in their mid to late sixties not physically what they used to be
And what is for them is no different for me

We only have memories of years now long gone
But the past gone forever and life does go on
And perhaps the men that i worked with often think back on time
When they were younger and stronger and fitter and in their life's prime.

I Have Written The Rhymes

I have written the rhymes of the silver tongued rill
That babbles it's way down the fields by the hill
With a voice never silent by night and by day
It flows to the river to the sea far away

I have written the rhymes of the wild birds of song
To the Goddess of Nature their music belong
Some of them by their voices i have come to know
My wonder of Nature never ceases to grow

I have written the rhymes of the poor down and out
The one by the hard life who has been knocked about
Though losing is something anyone does not choose
For every big winner many have to lose

I have written the rhymes of a human's best friend
Your dog will love you until his or her end
For a good feed and a few pats and a few kind words every day
Your dog as your friend a whole lifetime does stay

I have written the rhymes of anti war and anti poverty
Circumstance of birth can be a factor in one's life's destiny
The rhymes come to me on notepaper i pen them down
But never for material gain or renown

I have written the rhymes of Nature and Human life
The songs of the birds and the love of man and wife
And i add to my numbers of rhymes every day
For my own enjoyment and not for fame or pay.

Friday, June 21, 2013

In A Minority

If you believe what a politician does say more likely than not you have believed a lie
For most politicians live by their lies and by their lies they will die
This is how they are and they always will be
Since honest politicians are known to be in a minority
You can believe anything you do wish to believe
But politicians without much effort to them know how to deceive
An honest person in politics does struggle to succeed
And to have to say this seems a sad thing indeed
For of the people who represent us in parliament we should expect honesty
But when it comes to political power the one who seems to lose is known as decency
One must suppose in politics this is how it is and it will always be this way
The leopard never changes it's spots as some are known to say
If without reservation the words of a politician you do believe
Then more than likely you are one who is not hard to deceive.

Big Joe

Self promotion may be the in thing of the day
But self praise is no praise as the wise one did say
Bragging no longer does seem a rare thing
Though you should leave it to others your praises to sing
Big Joe in the pub is the braggart supreme
He sure is not one lacking in self esteem
And though he is one others do not celebrate
He even has convinced himself he is a great
Of the local club in Aussie Rules Football
Though the loyal fans of the club say he is not much good at all
Though big and strong he will never be amongst the club's best
Since he seems lacking in skill when put to the test
But Joe in his early twenties with their opinions on him do not agree
He is not lacking in ego it does seem to me.

Billy Connors

As a young man from his first hometown in Duhallow he traveled far away
Billy Connors of Newmarket where might he be today?
Last met him in Clifton Hill in the mid nineties at the Normandy Hotel
Perhaps then in his early forties and looking healthy and well
Perhaps he remained in the Melbourne suburbs he seemed happy there
Though the lure of the wander could have taken him elsewhere
At the weekends in the Normandy he enjoyed the sessions of music and beer
Gregarious by nature he enjoyed the pub atmosphere
In Duhallow he would not have been one for to grow old and gray
He was talking then of a visit home to Newmarket but not there to stay
A likeable fellow as i do recall
One who could laugh at life and his worries seemed small
Back then he was one who was well past his prime
And this is going back near two decades in time.

Thursday, June 20, 2013

An Hour Before Sunrise

An hour before sunrise of a Winter's day
The magpie is warbling in the dawn cool and gray
The familiar song so melodious and clear
Of the bird who does sing every day of the year
By the forecast it is going to be a nice sunny day
And though only early Winter the Spring is not that far away
And a bird familiar to many and familiar to me
The magpie lark sings his familiar pee wee
For June in Victoria the weather quite mild and dry
Though one can expect more rainfall in July
Each passing day from now on one day nearer to Spring
When the golden bill blackbird will whistle and sing
And the nesting spur wing plovers will be heard calling at night
And the magpies will be piping in the moonlight.

The Rhymer Rhymes On

Eventually we all become victims of time
But the rhymer till death never runs out of rhyme
Forgetfulness comes with age when the best years are gone
But the rhymer loves to rhyme and the rhymer rhymes on
With the passing of time the ralization on us does grow
That so little of life's ways we do seem to know
And the old one walks slow and the young one walks fast
But the rhymer rhymes on though his or her best in the past
We learn as we live some are known to say
But to some old age with it brings memory decay
But the fact is we are born as mortals and fact never lie
And the longer we live the sooner we will die
And yesterday like all yesterdays to the forever gone
And we live in the now and the rhymer rhymes on.

Some Writers

Some writers write poems and stories and some writers write well
And even non writers have their own stories to tell
Of their lives adventures in an oral way
For to tell we all have our own stories as the wise one did say

Some people die young and some people die old
And the life story of many people untold
And people live and die and the past it has gone
But the great wordsmith trade will forever live on

Eventually time becomes everyone's foe
And people come to life and life from them go
But the written word will live on through the centuries of time
In poetry, prose, story in song and in rhyme

Some writers grow wealthy and become a great name
Whilst some writers destined to never know opf fame
And  not every writer is known to write well
Though everyone have their own stories to tell

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

A Nice Winter's Day

The magpie larks call in the park by the bay
For June and early Winter such a beautiful day
And the familiar music so flute like and clear
Of the Aussie magpies who sing every day of the year
In the blue and sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
And the long weather forecast has more nice days on the way
A high for the day of eighteen degrees
And even some warmth in the freshening breeze
That does gently sough in the bushes and trees
The one who would find fault with this weather would be impossible to please
For the time of year such beautiful weather and such a nice day
Utopia from here cannot be far away
The magpie singing his flute like melody
And the magpie lark in the sunshine is calling pee wee.

In The Human World

In the Human World where some of money have more than enough
A few billion people are doing it tough
On a below poverty line income surviving from day to day
From birth to death destined for to live in this way

And why one person's loss can be another person's gain
Is something way beyond me to explain
Perhaps the human existence is meant to be this way
For winners there have to be losers this does seem sad to say

Thousands of asylum seekers in un-seaworthy boats in the deep oceans have died
Their dreams of better lives so tragically destroyed
In a fair Human World this never would be
You would not have the hungry the homeless or the refugee

In the Human World the wealthy and famous seem to have everything
And of the praises of the poor there seem too few to sing
And it is a rare occurence  that one from a poor side of a town
Has known of the esteem that does come with wealth and renown.

I Hope To Be Living

I hope to be living for to welcome the Spring
And hear again the song the male blackbird does sing
His familiar song so melodious and clear
A beautiful voice of the Spring of the year
In life as we know there is no guarantee
This may be the very last Winter for me
The Reaper of lives on my life will have the last say
And except for suicides cases for everyone else it too will be this way
But in fancy i can hear the buzzing of the honeybees
In the sunshine taking nectar from the blossoms of the fruit bearing trees
Of the praises of Nature i feel happy to sing
Great joy to so many she always does bring
The first day of the Southern Spring is some twelve weeks away
And in twelve weeks there is many a night and a day.

Tuesday, June 18, 2013


One can choose to be rude or choose to be nice
On how we relate to others we do have a choice
On bushes and trees respect does not grow
And the respect given to us in return we do show
To those who respect us since respect is never one way
Respect earns respect as some do like to say
You will find the most popular one in the town
Is not the one in words who does put others down
So called sports people and celebrities into trash talking in their ways are small
In fact they seem far from nice people at all
They are never short of a friend those with a good attitude
In our dealings with others we do have a choice to be nice or be rude
The one who is rude to you will never become your mate
To those who are nice to us we tend for to gravitate.

What Care I

What care i if i die without a penny to my name
Since rich or poor then to me will be the same
If old age does not kill me then something else will
And all feelings do die in the heart that is still

In my younger years i had ambition of becoming a poet
Though i never became worthy of literary note
Since poetasters are many and poets are few
Am i telling you something you already knew

But the rhymes they do seem to keep coming to me
And addicted to rhyming i do seem to be
On notepaper my rhyming thoughts i write down
But without thought of money or any yearn for renown

I have written heaps of rhymes well over eleven thousand or more
And time catching up with me six years with three score
The best years in my life in the forever gone
But i remain as a rhymer and i do rhyme on

Whether i am buried and left to a natural decay
Or cremated it will not matter to me anyway
Eventually we all become victims of time
For the poet a last poem and for the rhymer a last rhyme

Old Billy

Old Billy he is fond of the liquor that cheer
He is one who has drunk many glasses of beer
Yet he never goes home and abuses his wife
And though he enjoys it drink does not control his life
Old Billy he also loves music and song
And he always does join in the pub sing along
He has been married to Annie For forty eight years
And for the past he has no regrets or tears
He and Annie happily married as they always have been
Their oldest grandchild she has turned nineteen
In her eyes than Billy she says there is none so great
She says the day that i met him i met my soul-mate
Old Billy loves beer, laughter music and song
And he always joins in the pub sing along.

Monday, June 17, 2013

Young Andy

Of love the singers in their songs may sing
But for some love can be a heartbreaking thing
A sadder young man than Andy i have not seen
Since he was forsaken by the one he loves Josephine
Since she left him for another six months have gone by
But for another relationship he does not even try
The mental pain of lost love it can linger for years
And Andy for Josephine has shed lots of tears
It does seem between him and Josephine that love was one way
But time is the great healer as some like to say
And Andy will learn from this lesson in life
That the one you love most may not become your wife
And young Andy at twenty two a few years short of his prime
Will get over the ache of lost love in due time.

The Sort Of Person You Are

The judgements of others of you to nothing does amount
Since it is the sort of person you are in your mind that really does count
In this Human World where many are obsessed with greed
Are you willing to help those of helping in need?
And do you believe in the philosophy of to receive you must give
And never reflect in a negative way in others and live and let live
And never in your words do put others down
Then you are an asset to your side of the town
The materially well off may enjoy financial success
And be admired by the many that they do impress
But if they only live for self interest and only know how to receive
And on a fair go for all they do not believe
Then to their higher selves they do not live true
And as people they are not in any way as good as you.

The Warmth In Her Greeting

She was not a young beauty her hair silver gray
Yet her happy smile and cheerful hello brought some joy to my day
The stranger today that i met on the street
Nice people are always so nice for to meet

I like warm people of this i will not pretend
She greeted me as if i were an old friend
A passing stranger like me with great warmth she did greet
The charming aging woman untainted by conceit

Though her i am not likely to meet again
Good memories of her with me bound to remain
Perhaps in her early sixties she had such a nice face
A woman of charm and beauty and grace

Wherever her sort are joy is to be found
They carry it with them and spread it around
The warmth in her greeting such an uplifting thing
Some joy to my day she did help for to bring.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

Where People Of Different Cultures

Where people of different cultures and colors and religion and races live in harmony
Is the sort of a town that appeals most to me
Where multiculturalism does not work racism and fundamentalism for this to blame
For to be  a monocultural town is hardly a claim to fame
It can seem so boring in it's boring way
Where the same races and similar people one does see every day
In my personal opinion difference makes us more interesting that's how it seems to me
Though with my opinions on this few would see fit to agree
Variety is the spice of life as some like to say
With this i agree since i too feel this way
Not much room for difference in the monocultural town
Where sameness can be your ticket to local renown
In one culture communities xenophobia and racism can be found
I do like the towns where multiculturalism abound.

If You Can Face A Challenge

If you can face a challenge with a smile on your face
And the cause of your anxiety with joy does embace
Then you are already halfway to conquering your fear
A good attitude makes a  looming challenge not as bad as it does appear
But you become conquered by fear when to fear you give way
In what will become  for you a stressful and unhappy day
Your attitude in any difficult situation for you does count
And a negative attitude to a negative outcome for  you does amount
People daunted by a challenge the ally of self belief does not avail
Their negative attitude in their time of need them does fail
But if you can face a challenge with joy in your  mind
Then an ally in self belief to conquer your fear you will find
If you can face a challenge with a smile on your face
It weakens your challenge when it you do embrace.

I Am Not An Atheist

I do not have a religion and it may seem a bit odd
That i am not an atheist since i do have a God
And her name is Nature an amazing she
Her beauty is everywhere all around me

I am not an atheist for how can i be
Since i have a God her creations i see
In her life forms of land and of river and sea
The life forms she create born to mortality

I am not an atheist though to my God i do not pray
She lives all around me not in a World far away
The one who has unrivaled magical power
Can create a  thing of beauty like a flower

I am not an atheist despite what some of me may say
The creations of my God i see every day
Though with my idea of God many would disagree
We all look at life one might say differently.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

We Are All

Some say that we are all born to be equal and we are all sisters and brothers
And though we are all born as humans some are born more equal than others
The celebrity and elite sportsperson is seen as superior to the person who works for low wages
Inequality does not have a color and applies to people of all ages
Only in death we all become equal the Reaper of Lives is the great equalizer
As a young person i was made to believe that all people are equal but with age i have become wiser
The monarch was born as a mortal but to others is seen as superior
But the Reaper of  Lives claims the life of the monarch and the monarch to the reaper inferior
For all of us there's a last sunset when the Reaper life's breath from us sever
To every other deceased person we will be as equals forever
In life to some we will never be equal for it would seem rank and class distinction
In the human family will be forever and never be in danger of extinction
We are all supposed to be equal and supposed to be sisters and brothers
But money, fame and status it does seem does make some more equal than others.

A Wonderful Person

Of his life's achievements he never does boast
Though to the man with kindness and compassion we should drink a toast
To help those in need of helping he goes out of his way
And he does a good deed and sometimes more every day
Not a celebrity or famous sportsman and a stranger to renown
He will never be lauded as a hero of the town
The town 's unsung hero is a great person indeed
He likes helping people who of help are in need
The aged widowed pensioner poor Mrs Tardelli who lives on her own
Says a kinder person than he is she has never known
He takes care of her back and front garden without asking for pay
Men like him are rare in the Human World of today
A wonderful person compassionate and kind
Any flaw in him would be a hard thing to find.

Though My Best Years In life

Though my best years in life to the forever gone
Three score years and six and i am rhyming on
And though i hope to be rhyming till my life's final day
On that destiny will have the final say
I never pretended that i was a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
I have been called an addictive rhymer this well may be
Though rhyming a source of enjoyment for me
In nineteen seventy three in my life's prime
Far north of where i now live i penned my first rhyme
And though my worth as a rhymer i always do doubt
Never shortage of things for me to rhyme about
My best days in life are in the distant past
And each rhyme i pen one nearer to my last.

Friday, June 14, 2013

Tomorrow Will Dawn

Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And we live in the now and life does go on
But for as long as i live i could never explain
How somebody's loss becomes another one's gain
In a fair Human World this would never be
At least anyhow that's how it seems to me
And it does seem a sad thing for to have to say
That the gap between the wealthy and poor is widening by the day
The unwritten commandment of thine own self take care
Must have first come from the mouth of a multi billionaire
But the one who claims the lives of the billionaire and the one in poverty
The reaper of lives does create equality
The passing of time has left me walking slow
Yet so little of life i realize i do know.

We Seem To Age Quickly

We seem to age quickly when past our life prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
I have lived for sixty six years in time quite a span
And if living in ten years from now i will be an old man
In distant fields i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And something new for us to learn every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
My neighbor's dog is no less a mortal than i
I was born like him to eventually die
Any of the deceased people i have known did not come back to me to tell
Of a life post bodily death or of a heaven or hell
In ten years from now if living i will be an old man
And i will live on for as long as i can.

That Many People Lack In Empathy

That many people lack in empathy does not come as a surprise
There would be a huge drop in the serious crime rate if more people could empathize
On how a similar crime done to them would impact on them and their family
But for self analysis in such a way one does need empathy
Those with the gift of empathy are blessed indeed
And of far more of their kind the Human World is in need
Those who do have empathy the fair go for all does embrace
And they can put themselves in another person's  place
Such people are never in the majority
And this more the pity would you not agree?
Since in a World with more people with empathy there would be less people serving prison time
And less wars and terrrorism and in general less crime
But people with empathy in the minority in the Human World of today
And that this is a pity does seem a fair thing for to say.

Thursday, June 13, 2013

The Glasheen Rill

It's babbling voice it has never been still
Through green Inchaleigh the old Glasheen Rill
On towards the Finnow by night and by day
By ditches and hedges it babbles it's way
As a great waterway it will never be known
But the Glasheen Rill has a charm of it's own
Long before time it did become our foe
With jam jars we fished for elvers there many Summers ago
Since i last lived near Millstreet many Seasons have gone
But today in Inchaleigh the Glasheen is flowing and life does go on
And the skylark fly up from the rushes to sing
The wonders of Nature an amazing thing
And in fancy i can hear the lowing of a cow
In a field where the Glasheen flows to the Finnow.

Everyone Cannot Be A Winner

Everyone cannot be a winner life it is never this way
For every winner there are losers such is the case every day
In sports and in life and in all things for one to win some have to lose
And ask anyone they will tell you that losing is a thing they would not choose
For winners there have to be losers and this is how it always will be
The day's big winner feeling elated flushed in the joy of victory
The losers of course disappointed the next time they hope for success
Today the big day for the winner the winner smiles in happiness
You are never judged by others as a person but by the Worldly success you achieve
At the passing from life of a celebrity the fans in  their thousands do grieve
In sports as in life it is winning the winners only seem to count
And the losers always disappointed that their effort to win to nothing did amount
And for every winner there are losers though it is never easy to lose
For everyone does love a winner and to lose anyone does not choose.

I May Be A Rhymer

I may be a rhymer not known to rhyme well
But in my rhymes i have my stories to tell
Of people and Nature and things that i see and hear and read of every day
I rhyme about in my own sort of a way
My best days in life to the forever gone
But the urge to rhyme in me as ever lives on
I write rhymes for enjoyment and little else more
This is something you may have heard from me before
I knew that success i would never realize
On hindsight suppose one becomes more wise
And though my worth as a rhymer i never cease to doubt
There is always so much for me to rhyme about
And if i told you different it would be a lie
That i hope to be rhyming till the day i do die.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Brazil Leads The Way

In the World game of  football no team like Brazil
They play with speed passion and footballing skill
As the winners of the most World Cups always the team to beat
Though in big finals they too have known of defeat
The Land of many great footballers too many to name
Brazil are the kings of the World's most popular game
Since football of the head and feet is played Worldwide
And that Brazil are the best at it of them cannot be denied
The reigning world champions and number 1 footballing Country is Spain
But the tag as the all time best team with Brazil does remain
As winners of the most World Cups in a class of their own
The legend of Brazil in World  Football has grown
Their colorful fans beat the samba drums whilst they do play
In the World game of football Brazil leads the way.

This Thing Called Self Importance

This thing called self importance is all in your head
As the worm is your equal on the day you are dead
By impressionable people big egos are fed
But when the so called blue bloods do bleed their blood it is red
Immortality for the human kind is just a big lie
Like all other life forms we are born to die
The dog or the cat are no different to me
Like them i was born to mortality
We return to Nature since this is Nature's way
The pauper will be equal to the billionaire one day
Since the Reaper of lives any life does not spare
The celebrity, the monarch and president and billionaire
By the one who claims all lives is treated the same
As the one who does not have a penny to his or her name.

For A Minority Of People

From writing financially few ever do well
The poets write poetry the poetasters write doggerel
But life is mainly about making money it goes well with fame
And few become famous without heaps of cash to their name
The poetaster and jingler seem one of the same
And writing for them is a hungry belly game
The literary journey to wealth and fame for most seems too tough
And though writers are many few are good enough
For to become successful where few make the grade
Though every writer is needed in the wordsmith trade
And all around the World in every village, city and town
Young aspiring writers daydream of literary renown
And though it is said from life we receive our due
For a minority of people their daydreams do come true.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

Far South Of The Home

Far south of the home of the silver back crow
In the brown countryside where the dark Wannon flow
In the home of the wallaby and the gray roo
And the large dark brown parrot known as the weerloo
His hair in his prime years dark brown is now silver gray
Far south of the place where he first saw light of day
He will not be going back to his first home by the rill
That babbles to the river down the fields by the hill
His wife and their two teenage daughters are Aussies they have never seen
His home countryside where the fields are evergreen
He is in the old brown countryside for the long stay
Of his first home in life far south and far away
In the home of the long bill corella and the pale eyed crow
Where the old dark brown Wannon in the brown country flow.

The Poet Karen O Connor

That success in life comes to where it is due
Is something that only happens to be true
Poet Karen O Connor living in Tralee and born and raised in Millstreet
Against Ireland's best poets in Listowel with success did compete

Her poem 'The Bone Shop' Listowel Writers Festival poem of the year
And many more good stories of her we will read of and hear
A true poet and poets in the World as ever are few
To this you may say tell us something that is new

The best of Duhallow since Duhallow's laureate of rhyme
The great poet John Twomey and this is going back in time
For composing of great poetry Karen is famed and widely known
One can say of her she is in a class of her own

A young poet and many more successes will come her way
Up there amongst the best poets of Ireland today
Herself and Bernard O Donoghue Whitbread Poetry Prize winner from Cullen and renowned literary name
Between them have brought to Duhallow great poetic fame

In Karen O Connor's case a huge loss to Millstreet is surely Tralee's gain
That the top poets win the prestigious poetry prizes as a fact does remain
Ireland's poet of the moment a poetic elite
Karen O Connor the pride of  Tralee and the best of Millstreet.

I Do Not Swear By Democracy

I do not swear by democracy though on human rights i do believe
Since many democratically elected governments to cling to power the voters deceive
By preying on their fears and phobias the Government of the U S A
Have kept foreign prisoners for years without trial locked up in Guantanamo Bay

For years by the jailers of the World's most powerful democratically elected government without trial kept in jail
Successive democratically  elected U S Governments the human rights test did fail
Democratically elected governments abuse of human rights by other Countries governments may well criticize
But their own abuse of human rights they seem to fail to realize

Governments Worldwide democratically elected and dictatorships guilty of human abuse
For human right transgressions they use anti terrorism as their excuse
For forced confessions through beatings, electric shocks and water boarding by most governments seen as okay
The torture of prisoners is widespread in the Human World of today.

The praises of democracy the patriotic masses well may sing
But than that a fair go to every human being is a more important thing
Than democracy is and it does seem sad to say
That prisoners are being tortured and beaten in many Countries in the World of today.

Monday, June 10, 2013

To Some People

To some people life can seem very unfair
For years he has been battling his black moods of despair
In his late forties with a mental illness without children or a wife
His mental condition has ruined his life
To develop a mental illness in life can never be a crime
But to be on medication for such for three decades does seem a long time
And suppose he will be on medication till his life's last night and day
That lady luck is not with him it does seem this way
Physically quite a big man yet he would not harm a fly
The words gentle giant to him does apply
Though life has not been kind to him he does not complain
Why some can be so acceptable of their misfortune beyond me to explain
In his forty eight year for three decades he has been mentally unwell
For some people life can be an Earthly Hell.

On Eddie McGuire And Adam Goodes

Eddie McGuire's racial joke on Adam Goodes he has been made to regret
And though he may be forgiven his words will take time to forget
Adam in his ways is a big man one willing to forgive
And Eddie with his words must learn to live
In most Countries the days of open racism to the forever gone
But latent racism in the World does live on
Even people known to be mentors can be racist this is how people are
And a joke is not a joke when it is taken too far
Eddie McGuire is a good person in him nothing bad
In his slip of the tongue on Adam Goodes he did not mean offense and it seems a bit sad
That he now is tainted by what he did say
For our every mistake in life always a price to pay
For his ill chosen joke Eddie now pays the price
Before speaking once one should always think twice.

In Millstreet Long Ago

In religious processions years ago in the Town of Millstreet
The young girls of the convent school kissed and threw rose petals on the street
That they carried in reed baskets as they walked to the Town Square
Where Willie Murphy on the loudspeaker led the congregation in prayer

So beautiful young and innocent in their white communion dresses they looked immaculate
As they carried in tradition devotion to their parents and ancestral faith
Between prayers on the loudspeaker the christian hymns carried in the breeze in the streets of Millstreet Town
Back when i was a younger man and my hair was dark brown

The priests and nuns who led the processions back then at peace forever lay
I wonder do they still have religious processions in Millstreet Town today?
For time brings with it changes and few things stay the same
And eventually even memory becomes a flickering flame

In their white communion dresses young  and beautiful and free of conceit
They kissed rose petals from their baskets and tossed them on the street
As they walked up to the Town Square in Millstreet long ago
To the young school girls of the sixties time has become a foe.

Sunday, June 9, 2013

By The Bug Of Rhyme

So much rhyming stuff down the years i have written
By the bug of rhyme i must have been bitten
In nineteen seventy three at twenty seven i became a rhymer
And at sixty six to many i am seen as an old timer
Perhaps my calling in life till i die i will follow
An old fashioned rhymer from distant Duhallow
A rhymer may not be seen as worthy of literary merit
But this is the gift in life i did inherit
I will go on rhyming i am not a quitter
And at lack olf success i have never felt bitter
As a young man i daydreamed of literary glory
Though others to tell have a similar story
And by the bug of rhyme i must have been bitten
Since so much rhyming stuff down the years i have written.

In Late May To Duhallow

The contented cattle lay chewing their cuds in the lush green fields of Duhallow
And home for to breed the dark winged barn swallow
Across the gray sky at great speed they are racing
They chirp whilst flying insects their prey they are chasing
The shy male pheasant hidden in the rushes is crowing
And from the Boggeragh Ranges the winds of rain are blowing
The farmers another wet Season are fearing
And in late May to Duhallow the Summer is nearing
The brown lark above the bog in the gray sky is singing
And busy robins to their nestlings worms and insects are bringing
Male blackbird is singing a warning to others
At nesting time he will even attack his brothers
In late May to Duhallow the Summer is nearing
And farmers another wet Season are fearing.

Children In Their Innocence

Children in their innocence do not know better
In long gone years some pre teenagers thought a french letter
Was a love letter from France their parents did deceive them
And their children in their innocence  without question did believe them
Like Gypsy is a word often used to describe Rom
French letter is an other word used for a condom
That to the young mind double meaning words can be confusing
Such words can be deceptive and this is not amusing
The innocence of children is a thing of great beauty
To believe what their parents do tell them they see as their duty
In their naiveity  children in their trust on those older expressing
But their great gift of innocence to them is a blessing
And do not say of them they ought to know better
When they hear their parents talk of a french letter.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

The Young Bloke Next Door

He visualize the football crowds chanting his name
The young bloke next door daydreams of sporting fame
One day he hopes to be a man amongst men
The young bloke next door he is only ten
He visualizes himself as best on ground on Grand Final Day
And after in the club rooms for him a mighty hooray
His great dream in life he will surely pursue
Though every dream as we know does not come true
Dark hair and brown eyes for his age he is tall
In the backyard of his home on his own he kicks ball
His very proud dad tells his mates in the pub
That his son will be the hero of his football club
And the son is determined not to leave dad down
And become a football hero of the town.

The Carefree One

He is not what one would call a nostalgic sort of a man
Though he lives far south of where his life's journey began
And he has been to great Cities Moscow, Paris and Rome
And New York, Sydney and Melbourne thousands of kilometers from his first home
Single in his early forties a down to earth bloke
One who does laugh loud at the punch line of a joke
He does have a lover a brunette of thirty nine
At the weekend after drinks at the pub they have sex at her home and this suits him fine
He will not be going back to live to where he first saw light of day
The old town by the hills from where he now lives far away
He has not been there for some twenty years
Yet for his old memories he does not have any tears
He has a casual lover he never had a wife
And he is determined for to enjoy life.

The Memories Of What Was

The past may well be in the forever gone
But the memories of what was in us does live on
Of the good and the tough times that for us used to be
Though our journeys in life different for everyone and that includes me
In life you win some and lose some as the wise one did say
And that this applies to the majority of people it does seem this way
Though we live in the now the memories remain
Of faces and places we will not see again
The roads of our destiny in life we pursue
A journey that ends for all and that includes me and you
The one who does not respect money or fame
The Reaper of Lives does treat every life as the same
That the wealthy and famous are mortals this is not a lie
We are born into life to eventually die.

Friday, June 7, 2013

In Old Claraghatlea

In the groves of Claraghatlea from here far away
The nesting songbirds are singing today
And in the shade of the hawthorns cloaked in their white blooms of the May
The cattle on lush grass at ease chewing their cuds lay
The dark brown water bird dipper with breast white as snow
Does sing in the river and in the nearby hedgerow
The tiny brown wren with the big bird song
From once seen and heard him you cannot get wrong
The great gift of memory is a wonderful thing
In my flights of fancy i hear the lark sing
A musical speck in the gray evening sky
Though born in a ground nest to sing he has to fly
And above the brown bog the flute of the curlew melodious and clear
In old Claraghatlea in the Spring of the year.

Recite Me A Rhyme

Recite me a rhyme of the babbling rill
That splashes and dashes down the field by the hill
At the start of it's journey to the river far away
It flows on forever by night and by day

Recite me a rhyme of the yellow tail black cockatoos
The birds that are know to some as the weerloos
Their familiar weerloo calls carrying in the breeze
As they shred the pine cones for their seeds on the monterey pine trees

Recite me a rhyme of the gray haired old bloke
No better than he is for to tell a good joke
For a good laugh at life on him you can depend
The man who does never seem short of a friend.

Recite me a rhyme of Nature in the Spring
When wildflowers are in bloom and the nesting birds sing
When the little brown lark in the dawning gray
Fly up towards the clouds for to welcome the day

Recite me a rhyme of the rhyming non poet
Though he or she not deemed to be worthy of note
And despite what the literary critics of them does say
Their musical words do bring joy to my day.

In Old Caherbarnagh

In Caherbarnagh bog from here far away
I shlauned the damp peat in a long bygone day
When i was a younger man and in my life's prime
And this is going back near four decades in time
The peat was spread by men with pikes on the bracken to dry
If weather remained fine it would be dried out in late July
For the long cold Winter as good fuel for the fire
The shlaunman was one who worked hard for his hire
When the bog cotton in flower looked a fluffy gray
And the hawthorns were in their white blooms of the May
Above the brown bog a musical speck in the sky
The skylark did sing as upwards he did fly
In old Caherbarnagh  a long time ago
Many Seasons before time did become my foe.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Geoffrey Gurrumul

As Australia's greatest singer his legend has grown
The wonderful Geoffrey Gurrumul in a class of his own
A voice for all ages that to him only belong
The man who was born with the gift of song
The pride of his Tribe and his Country and Race
To millions a beloved and familiar face
And despite his amazing success as a singer he remains humble and shy
True greatness of the man one cannot deny
Long after the breath of life from his has gone
His beautiful voice it will be living on
Even Worldwide few singers with him to compare
The Geoffrey Gurrumuls of this World are rare
The greatest living singer in the Australia of today
Of Geoffrey Gurrumul this does seem a fair thing to say.

What Is Life About

That we are born to die i know this much is true
But what is life about i would not have a clue
From life's beginning to the end there is joy, laughter, tears and pain
And in life one person's loss can become another person's gain
For our lessons in life the price can be big to pay
And for many life can be a battle to face every day
For this thing known as success people with each other compete
And the graceful loser one does not often meet
And those with humility when they succeed
Have never been plentiful and are quite special indeed
It is said that in life we must give to receive
This is something on which i can say i believe
And what is life about ask one other than me
Only know we are born to life for to die eventually.

Tower Hill In Late May

The harsh calls of the black duck the soft quacks of the drake
And the black swans are bugling on the waterlogged wetlands by the lake
And the cries of the lapwing carrying in the breeze
On a cool though dry evening in late May of around sixteen degrees

With the calendar Winter with each passing day near
The weather quite seasonal for the time of year
The cooler and wetter months of Winter ahead
That every dry day at this time of year is welcome in truth can be said

In Tower Hill a historic valley with high cliffs all around
Emus, koalas, wallabies, echidna and roo in numbers abound
A sacred place to the descendants of the people of the Dreamtime
It has been the inspiration of story and rhyme

Large flocks of waterbirds are on the wetlands in May
And for the time of year it is quite a nice day
Where the ghosts of the Dreamtime people do reside
In a sacred and historical place that is known far and wide.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

This Is What Friendship Is About

That most of us have our hard times why otherwise pretend
And when in financial difficulties then you do need a friend
It is at such a time that you know who your friends are
And none of them may be of the group you drink with at the public bar
There is only truth in the saying that your friend in need
Amongst all of the friends you ever had your truest friend indeed
The one who supports you in your tough financial times is your greatest friend of all
Though one you did not consider your closest friend of the friends you did recall
But the one who did come to your aid when you were financially down
When those you thought were your true friends ignored you as a loser of the town
It is when you are down in your luck the one who stand by you
Happens to be your greatest friend the truest of the true
Your friend when you are down financially will not leave you to be counted out
No matter what your friend will stand by you this is what friendship is about.

Rhyme It Will Surely Live On

The styles and genres of writing keep changing over time
But poetry in English seems only half dressed without rhyme
And though modern poetry is now the in thing
Without rhyme there would be far less songs to sing
Though rhyme it may have had a far better day
In poetry it does have a big part for to play
And though lovers of blank verse may not agree
Poetry in English without rhyme much worse off would be
In poetry in English rhyme used to be number one
But changes come with time when all is said and done
And though for it as it does seem it's better days gone
In poetry in English rhyme it will surely live on
It has music and rhythm in it the sources of song
Those who say rhyme is dead surely have got it wrong.

Willie Neenan's Race

There is to be a road race in Duhallow's Millstreet
In memory of the late and great Willie Neenan he was the Parish greatest athlete
More than sixty years his athletic career did span
The amazing Willie the legendary man
Cork County, Munster, Irish and World Championship medals a million miles he must have ran
Years beyond his best he outran young men full of youthful elan
The man never found to be wanting when put to the test
In his prime in track and field and cross country he was one of Ireland's best
Yet despite his major championship victories a down to earth fellow untainted by conceit
Willie Neenan loved running he just loved to compete.

Born and raised in Inchaleigh just west of Millstreet Town
To become a champion athlete his just claim to renown
As a veteran a champion though his best years long gone
Well into his seventies the great man ran on
In athletics in Millstreet he commands pride of place
In July there he will be honored in The Willie Neenan Race
And though by Cashman's Hill in St Mary's his last remains lay
His legend does live on in Millstreet today.

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

In The Home Of The Bunurong

In fancy i can hear the brown lark in song
Above the spiritual home-place of the Bunurong
South Gippsland's first tribe the people of the Dreamtime
They have become the legends of story and rhyme

Where the Powlett through the scrub-land near the Pacific crawls slow
In the home of the wombat and the pale eyed crow
Long before written history this Country was old
It's true history in book form will never be told

In the distance the huge foaming surf waves do roar
As they crash on the sandbanks of the Pacific shore
To where the Bunurong hunted and fished in centuries long gone
The Seasons come and go and Nature lives on

In fancy i can see the Powlett flowing brown
Through the scrub of Kilcunda close to Wonthaggi Town
In the Spiritual home of South Gippsland's first people the Bunurong
Their legend lives today in story and song.

For Unenlightened Me

How come any deceased person has not come back to tell
Of the existence of a universal heaven and hell
Is life for the soul after bodily death just a fallacy?
Lack of proof of such has made a Doubting  Thomas of me
Stories of dead people's ghosts i have heard of and read about
But of such stories i feel a reason to doubt
As the ghost of a dead person i have yet to see
It would be a lie if i said differently
Many people believe that the soul does live on
When the last breath of life from the body has gone
And if you believe in such that suits me fine
Since what you believe in is no business of mine
Does the soul of the mind in the dead body stay?
For unenlightened me it is not for to say.

Jim Doukas

The fellow so many people do admire
Jim Doukas the famous Mayor of the Moyne Shire
With the prestigious office he holds he does not get carried away
His type nowadays rare this does seem fair to say

In Jim Doukas mind there is no room for conceit
As nice a person as one could wish to meet
There is nothing to dislike about in the likeable Jim
The Moyne Shire is lucky to have one like him

To represent them as a Councillor and Mayor his was a good choice indeed
In local government every shire council such a mayor does need
A voice to unite and not to divide
Jim Doukas does have people skills on his side

The man who is quite unaffected by fame
To all in the Moyne Shire his is a known name
Due to him the status of Mayor of the Moyne Shire to legend has grown
Big Jim Doukas he is in a class of his own.

Monday, June 3, 2013

Money Is Quite Important

Money is quite important of that there is no doubt
Of Russell Crowe and his beautiful and young new love so much written and spoken about
Wealthy celebrities like he is beautiful young women wish to know
Out of money and fame even love is known to grow
Every world renowned actor and known billionaire
Of beautiful young women would have known their share
Russell would not be any different women fall for his kind
Men like he is though aging can get the finest of young women if they feel so inclined
Few women fall in love with or wish to know of or meet
The young single fellows of Poverty Street
Unemployed and with little money with women against them does count
To have youth on their side to little does amount
Russell Crowe has a new woman one more news of the day
Money speaks every language it does seem this way.

Though They To The Forever

Though they to the forever are long gone
The ancestral genes in us are living on
We may not visit where their bones do lay
But their genes are alive in us today
They are remembered when the army bugler The Last Post does play
For they too fought in wars in places far away
And to honor them many a street parade
But we never learn from the mistakes in life they made
Like us of their Nation's flag they were proud
And some of their comrades fell where the war guns echoed loud
The war supposed to end all wars ended almost a century ago
And the enemy then is no longer a foe
For we have new enemies to fight today
We never learn with us it seems this way.

I Live Far South Of There

I live Far south of there by sky many a mile
The place i was born and raised in i have not seen for somewhile
For twenty six years going on twenty seven in time quite a span
Just one of many who lives far from where their life's journey began
A boy of the fifties a long time ago
And time on my body has become the foe
Yet in my flights of fancy the breeding frogs croak in the drain
And the robin does sing in the wind and the rain
And the dark brown white breasted dipper in the river does sing
In the cool winds of March in the early Spring
And Nature's early wild flowers in old fields to be seen
And snowdrops were on the ditch of old bohreen
But only the memories with me now remain
Of a place that i may never visit again.

Sunday, June 2, 2013

Nature Lives On

The average human lifetime span ten years with three score
Only Nature herself does live forever more
Many of the greats of human history to life have come to and from gone
But Nature is living and life does go on
The river that began it's life as a rill
In the quiet green valley by the faraway hill
As a huge waterway crawls to the ocean shore
The wonders of Nature live forever more
To every life form time eventually becomes a foe
But Nature lives on and her Seasons to her come and go
The longest lived human life in time not a long span
And humans in a decade lose their youthful elan
Many of the greats of human history to life have come to and from gone
But Nature the immortal forever lives on. 

Nature In An Angry Mood

Nature in an angry mood roared into town
Causing death and destruction where she blew buildings down
She flattened everything that stood in her way
When Nature is angry there is hell to pay

In less than an hour she had blown herself tame
But for the survivors of her outburst of anger life will never more be the same
For lost family members, neighbors and friends they are reduced to tears
And their sense of loss it will be with them for years

In the town where many have been badly injured and died
Many homes by the fierce wind of Nature destroyed
She left death and destruction and tears and heartbreak
And shattered dreams behind her in her wake

When Nature is angry there is hell to pay
She flattens everything that stands in her way
She left death and destruction before blowing herself tame
And life for the survivors will never more be the same.

Have You Ever Been

Have you ever been in where you have felt out of place
A challenge in life you were destined to face
In the company of people with little in common you had to share
Such situations in life to say the least not rare
With nothing in common with them that you could talk about
In the company you were in you felt the odd one out
This has happened to others many a time
For to feel out of place it is never a crime
I have been in similar situations stuck for something to say
And such things experienced by others every day
To them there must have been none more unenlightened than me
If we all had similar interests how boring we would be
It can be challenging when in the company you are in you feel the odd one out
The one stuck for something for to talk about.

Saturday, June 1, 2013

The Better Man Than Me

Most of us in our ways look at life differently
In what to me is ugly some beauty he does see
A man at peace with the World and himself this is how he choose to be
A credit to humanity the better man than me

The man who murdered his wife and their only child his eighteen year old daughter he has chosen to forgive
With a grudge  that eats the peace of the mind he says he could not live
The past he says he cannot change and is in the forever gone
The murderer of his wife and daughter in jail and life it does go on

A life for a life he does not believe in revenge is not his way
He believes that the one who took the lives of those near and dear to him for his crimes is made to pay
His wife and daughter died under gunfire in an armed robbery that went wrong
For to come out of such a tragedy without bitterness of mind he must be strong

Four years ago a gunman in an armed robbery murdered his daughter and wife
But towards him he does not hold any bitterness he just gets on with his life
At peace with himself and the World of any anger he is free
His type of person are so rare the better man than me.

Of The Universal Karma

Of the Universal Karma i remain as a fan
I believe in it now as i believed in it as a young man
In life as we live we must give to receive
On such a philosophy i do believe
Though many with such thinking do disagree
At least anyhow that's how it seems to me
Seeds planted of poor quality to good crops never grow
As in life it is true we do reap what we sow
What you put into life may become your due
And what goes around comes around seems to be true
For your crimes and sins against others to the law you may not pay
But Karma it will catch up with you one day
The fruits of what we sow in life we receive
On such a philosophy i do believe.

Only The Memories Remain

Old Clara in his December hat of snow
And in the old fields Finnow bank high did flow
And low gray looking clouds that held rain or sleet
In the sunless sky above the Town of Millstreet

Since in there i was not meant to grow old and gray
In Claraghatlea i had resolved not to stay
The bug of the wander addictive as some like to say
With me anyhow it does seem this way

I left on the bus for Rosslare as the rain drizzled down
On the almost deserted streets of Millstreet Town
I have not been back to Duhallow for twenty six years
And for past memories i've shed my last nostalgic tears

On an evening in Spring in a field by the river Finnow
I may never again hear the lowing of a cow
And only the memories with me now remain
Of what used to be but will not be again

Only memories remain of the past that has gone
And we live in the now and life does go on
And i grow old far south of where my life's journey began
Where i first saw light of day and grew into a man.