Sunday, August 31, 2014

The Arrival Of Spring

As the boobook owl called in the faint moonlight
The Spring arrived at the stroke of midnight
As she always does on September's first day
When she comes south for her annual three months stay
As Spring into the town park on silent wings did fly
The magpie's warbling song echoed to the silent sky
At dawn the blackbird's song pleasant to hear
The Spring it is his favorite time of the year
On Spring's first day the rain it is drizzling down
On the quiet streets of the old country town
On August the thirty first Winter's last day nice spells of sunshine
But on Spring's first day the weather not so fine
The Spring arrived at the stroke of midnight
As the magpie was warbling in the faint moonlight.

Cares And Worries

We all have our own cares and worries even every billionaire
Despite their vast amounts of money of worries do have their own share
A happy and a carefree person is one you do not meet every day
Though it is true that worrying about them does not make your problems go away
The more you do worry it is known the bigger your worries do grow
And everyone at some time in their life at some time of some sort of worry does know
In a World where billions of people every day do compete for work and success
Amongst the main causes of heart attack and cancer are the things known as worry and stress
We all have our own cares and worries they are part of life as some do say
It is because of these that some people do grow prematurely gray
If you are one with cares and worries on this you are not on your own
For these to many are familiar and Worldwide to every at some time are known
Yes everyone has their cares and worries they are two of our great mental foes
They can give rise to cancer and heart problems yet are part of life one must suppose.

Saturday, August 30, 2014

Do Not Judge The Man

Do not judge the man by his suit the suit never does make the man
It is the thoughts in the mind that does matter though the best of human technology thought cannot scan
What makes the man is not his money or the suit of clothes he does wear
Though the wealthy well dressed man may win for himself admirers wealthy and well dressed men with empathy are known to be rare
The wealthy and well dressed and  well groomed fellow wearing the striped suit and collar and tie
May not live up to his appearance as outer appearance it often does lie
How well dressed and wealthy you are may matter and in a material World may take you far
To many these things are important but they do not tell us of the person you are
The well dressed and wealthy man never short of female admirers he is the popular man of the town
But he is not known for compassion for those who are financially down
You may always be well dressed and quite wealthy own a big home with a swimming pool and drive an expensive new car
Though to many these things do matter they do not tell us of the person you are.

I Pen Rhymes Because

I pen rhymes because it is something i like doing and not for money or literary renown
Rhyming helps me in my maudlin moments when i am feeling mentally down
It does give me something to live for since i cannot talk of  personal success
Of such i have never known of any so my thoughts in rhyme online i express
A rhymer nowadays is out of fashion rhyme used to be a literary fashionable thing
The praises of free verse poets the literary critics do like to sing
Everyone have their own chosen hobbies the famous and the all but unknown
And sameness it does become boring like as is said to each their own
I penned my first rhymes in the early nineteen seventies in my physical and mental prime
And i have penned a lot of stuff since then for that is going back years in time
And suppose the reason rhyme is out of fashion is that anybody can rhyme
To me rhyme words make for pleasant music like bells with a musical chime
I am always happy when i am rhyming as it does bring some joy to my day
It is something to me that comes easy and i never could give it away.

Friday, August 29, 2014


When i meet Luke and this is not often he complains to me of his wife
He blames her for his sad existence and all that is wrong in his life
He never has a happy story unhappiness to him lives near
I always tell him i am in a hurry since his sad tales i do not wish to hear

He and his wife Jo do not have children though they have been married for twenty years or more
And she is too old for child bearing since of years she is well past the two score
Separated under the one roof and married only in name
For the unhappiness he knows of in his life Jo is the one he does blame

Not on speaking terms and living under the one roof their dislike for each other they do not hide
And that they both do have part time lovers is something by them that is not denied
I do not see Jo very often only know her for to say good day
She is quite an attractive looking woman and about her does have a nice way

But her estranged husband Luke i know better for his unhappiness her he does blame
He uses her as a scapegoat for his woes a cop out for want of a better name
Since it is so easy for one to blame another for their unhappy state of mind
And whinging Luke for his life's sorrow a scapegoat in his estranged wife does find.

The Sanderling And Turnstone Are Back In Killarney

The sanderling and turnstone are back in Killarney from their Arctic breeding grounds far away
I see them searching for insects and sea lice amongst the kelp on the foreshore on this mild and sunny August day
They have made the thousands of kilometers aerial journey for to see in the southern calendar Spring
They are such amazing small waders but then Nature is an amazing thing
Their kind does not recognize borders these travelers of the World sky
Every year in their long migrations thousands of kilometers they do fly
They travel far south of their birthplace and return again there to breed
Amongst the most nomadic of shorebirds they are World travelers indeed
From their breeding grounds by the Arctic ocean a journey of twenty thousand kilometers or more
To Killarney in South West Victoria a beach on the Pacific shore
They always seem quite fearful of people they take to the sky if they sense danger to them is near
Like most other wildborn creatures of being preyed upon they do fear
The sanderlings and turnstones are back in Killarney to see in the southern calendar Spring
They are such amazing small creatures but then Nature is such an amazing thing.

Thursday, August 28, 2014

Even As The Migratory Bird Does Fly

Even as the migratory bird does fly
Far south of old Duhallow i do live today
In distance many thousand of miles by sky
The Boggeragh Ranges from South West Victoria far away

I thought that i had left my past behind
When some of the bigger World out there i went to see
But like it is for every migrant of every race and kind
The past in memory it has followed me

And it will be with me till the day i die
Wherever or whenever that will be
For the fact is and fact does never lie
That one of our human gifts is the gift of memory

There are things in your past you may wish to forget
But like the good memories the bad memories too in us live on
You cannot change it all to your regret
A happening in your life in Seasons long since gone

My past it did come with me on the day
I passed for the last time through Millstreet Town
And the mental image is with me to stay
Of old Finnow bank high in flood of brown.

Of Those Into Self Promotion

Of those into self promotion i quickly seem to tire
But the one who never brags of self is one i do admire
Empty vessels make the most of noise a saying to life that is true
Leave it to others to give you the credit you are due
To narcissistic types who always dwell on self respect i cannot pay
They never seem to impress me in all honesty i can say
Yet self promotion does seem the in thing in the Human World of today
That the humble are becoming rare nowadays it does seem this way
That in the twenty first century humility does not get one anywhere is surely not a lie
We are living in the age it would  seem of me, myself and i
The humble are becoming rare though their sort a joy to meet
In a World where millions every day for success do compete
Nowadays self promotion seems to be the in thing
And it is no longer seen as boasting your own praises to sing.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

Tim's Maudlin Moods

At times he is one who feels quite close to tears
The maudlin moods they have been with him for years
But with him they never have a long stay
They live in him for a shore time and then from him go away

The great love of his life his beloved and beautiful Ann
Her death in a car crash left him a broken man
Since death dealt him a cruel blow some five years ago
In maudlin moods he has known his spells of woe

Some students of the human mind have formed the belief
That the source of maudlin moods can be in unhealed grief
That the ache of lost love never fully goes away
I only quote here what psychologists say

Tim's beautiful Ann the great love of his life
Sadly for him was not to be his wife
In life there is always some cross for to bear
Of anyone Life's Reaper grief does not spare

With his mates at the pub on Saturday night
He is happy and smiling of life's cares making light
But when maudlin he is not much fun as he does realize
And he does not feel in the mood to socialize

Tim at thirty five at the half way stage of the average human life span
Perhaps as a bachelor he will grow into an old man
The Reaper of Lives by taking Ann from him dealt him a cruel blow
The reason the mood known as maudlin he has come to know.

If Everyone Were Equal

If everyone were equal how marvelous life would be
We would not have royals and presidents all would be like you and me
Not looked upon as special we all would be the same
Some words would become redundant such as rank and wealth and fame
Everybody would be equal in every village, city and town
There would be none to look up to and none on too look down
We would not have homeless people living in dire poverty
We would not have wars and famines we would have equality
Everyone would have an equal amount of money there would not be a billionaire
Of the assets and the wealth of the World everyone would have an equal share
Human greed it would be extinct none looked up to as a great
The yearn for power and glory would have passed it's use by date
If everyone were equal how marvelous this would be
We would not have rank and class distinction everyone would be like you and me.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Perhaps I Will Never Again

Perhaps i will never more see Millstreet Town
Near where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
When i left Claraghatlea Finnow bank high did flow
And old Clara Mountain wore a hat of snow

This is going back the years many Seasons ago
And since time that rusts iron has become my foe
Many changes in Millstreet since i last lived there
But then such can be said of places everywhere

I have lived for many years in the Land of the roo
And i have grown to know it by it's harsh cries the white cockatoo
To the calls of the pee wee i wake every day
I love this great Country in truth i can say

Still in my flights of fancy i can hear the rill
Go babbling to the river down the fields by the hill
In the place where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Good old memories do live on as a source of joy

Perhaps i will never again see the place where the rivers do meet
In the old rushy fields near the Town of Millstreet
But good memories of what was with me does remain
And in fancy i walk in the old fields again.

The Traveler

By this time tomorrow he will be far away
In the old country town he has lived his stay
The lust of the wander is in his young mind
Not for him the life of the settled kind

Of marriage and raising children of such ties he is free
In the big World out there so many places to see
In his twenty second year and in his life's prime
He surely is one who on his side has time

Many a freeway and highway he has driven up and down
Two months a long stay for him in any town
In every town he works for his living pay
He earns his money for traveling in the honest way

Of women in his life he has had more than a few
And in every town he stays in he meets someone new
Some of the young women he has made love to hoped to become his wife
But the responsibility of marriage would not suit his type of life

Tomorrow morning early in the faint light of the dawning gray
To the nearest big town he will be on his way
Every road he drives on does take him to elsewhere
So much for him to see in the big World out there.

It Is As A Rhymer

Though in sports Worldwide as games not seen as important at all
In Ireland the big games are Hurling and Gaelic Football
A Hurling or Gaelic Football team in every Irish Village and town
Where to be a great Gaelic Games player does guarantee one a place in National renown
Though in sports a name for myself i never made
As a young man Hurling and Gaelic Football were games that i played
But my dreams of fame in sports from me were quick to fade
When in Gaelic Football or Hurling i did not make the grade
I could not make it in Gaelic Games so i took to penning of rhyme
Something i have been doing for four decades of time
Though without much success or money or fame
It is something i do enjoy doing just the same
As a young man junior Hurling and Gaelic Football i did play
But it is as a rhymer i am aging and gray.

Monday, August 25, 2014

Belinda Is Sixty

Belinda is sixty her shoulder length hair is silver gray
And physically she has known a far better day
Though slender and attractive of charm and grace
And always with a smile on her beautiful face

She does not have a religion not that way inclined
But she is compassionate and caring and kind
She was never a mother or to any man a wife
One who has always been happy in her single life

A person blessed with the gift of empathy
For the homeless and poor she feels great sympathy
She is anti war and pro refugee
And she is all of the things a good person should be

Quite a humble person her type are quite rare
Last Friday she turned sixty without any fanfare
The money she saved on the birthday she did not celebrate
To the poor and the homeless she did donate

Belinda has turned sixty for her years she looks well
The passing of time on her does not seem to tell
Though her hair silver grey no age wrinkles on her hands or face
And one can say of her she is aging with grace.

Their Business Not Mine

What care i what others of me do say
Since i have not harmed them in any way
What they think of me is their business not mine
And what is their business does suit me quite fine
If they pass judgement on me with me that's okay
Though i do notice any of my living expenses for me they do not pay
On their thinking in life they are different to me
But if we all thought in the same way how boring we would be
A sage like person once told me he was well past his prime
That worrying what others think of you seems a waste of your time
For his marvelous insights i did not have to pay
The wisdom in his words is with me today
What others think of me is their business not mine
And what is their business it does suit me fine.

Cyril Baldock

Cyril Baldock of Sydney at seventy from England to France did swim
The oldest ever to do so no challenge too daunting for him
The oldest ever to swim the English channel to his eternal fame
In the Guinness Book of World Records you will find Cyril's name
At seventy years of age Cyril's best years in life are long gone
But from England to France he swam on and on
In a dangerous sea that physically fit swimmers half of his age of exhaustion would surely drown
Cyril conquered exhaustion for his spot in renown
At seventy of the magnitude of his achievement there cannot be any doubt
An amazing feat of physical endurance well worth talking about
One can say of Cyril he is one tough old bloke
He has created a record that may never be broke
Many men of his age feeling stiff, old and lame
Whilst Cyril Baldock from England to France swam his way to fame.

Sunday, August 24, 2014

On The Chinese Cemetery At Vaughan

The lure of gold brought them from a Land far away
And in unmarked graves in Vaughan their remains do lay
Far from China they lived their last night and day
In our destiny in life we do not have a say

The lure of gold brought them south to the dry countryside
But no history of how they lived or of how they died
Their humble resting mounds of earth not a cause for humanity's pride
In the ground where they lay many secrets do hide

How brave of them to come from their far away Land
To where none their language or ways or culture did understand
To be anonymous in death it is such a sad thing
Yet for their sense of adventure and courage their praises i feel obliged for to sing

In Vaughan in Central Victoria under brown earth and white clay
The remains of the anonymous Chinese miners do lay
And sad to think that the stories of their lives will never be told
These adventurous and courageous fellow who risked all in coming far south for gold.

It Is True About Laughter

You have heard of the saying laughing your cares away
It is true about laughter it keeps stress at bay
Those who can laugh easily are lucky indeed
Since laughter in our lives is a thing we do need
Laugh and the World laughs with you rings ever true
Those who take themselves too seriously worry is their due
Those who can laugh at themselves to happiness have the key
At least anyhow this is how it seems to me
Since they surely are the objects of empathy
For those who cannot laugh one must feel sympathy
You have heard the story of the unhappy billionaire
Worry has left his mind over-burdened with care
If he only could laugh happier he would be
Since laughter is the stress antidote would you not agree?

We Never Stop Learning

In life we never stop learning it does seem this way
And from Nature we learn something new every day
And the more we learn of Nature the more our wonder of her does grow
Yet so little of her ways we can claim to know
Of though we learn from her every day something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets are not few
And the more we learn of Nature the more we realize
That we know little of her ways this is not a surprise
It is all around you and it is all around me
In our walks every day Nature's beauty we do see
I grew to love Nature as a very young boy
And learning about her today i do enjoy
And as much as the bird or animal or bee
We are part of Nature would you not agree?

Saturday, August 23, 2014

From Mt Tarrengower

Overlooking the Town of Maldon on the high countryside
From Mt Tarrengower one can see far and wide
Across miles of countryside not lacking in bushes and trees
On a mild Winter evening in August of around twenty degrees
Stony Mt Tarrengower home to wallabies and roos
And the big dark brown parrots known as yellow tail black cockatoos
From Mt Tarrengower the beautiful countryside of Maldon on view
As a hill to view scenic beauty from it's equals are few
In Central Victoria Mt Tarrengower a good hill to view from on a clear day
For to watch Nature's scenic beauty on display
And the beauty of Nature to view it is free
A beauty you do not pay money for to see
From Mt Tarrengower on a clear August day
The incomparable beauty of Nature is on display.

Anne Gallen

Sean Gallen and family and Anne his good wife
In Millstreet Town spent many years of their life
As proprietors of the Bush Bar at the West End they were well liked and well known
In fact one can say of them they became Millstreet's own

In the Bush Bar at the weekend then there was music, dancing, laughter and song
A social gathering place of locals where happiness did belong
Till the Gallens left Millstreet for to live elsewhere
And for to try out their luck in the big World out there

Since the Gallens lived in Millstreet many changes since then
And the young children at that time now young women and men
And the people of the eighties in their life's prime
Are visibly nowadays showing the wear of time

The beautiful Anne Gallen the Bush Bar hostess on Friday and Saturday night
She always seemed happy and bubbly and bright
And though in Millstreet never for to be seen again
In all who knew her fond memories of her will remain

We can only retain the memories of the what used to be
Of the people we knew never more for to see
In my mind's eyes the Bush Bar dancers again take the floor
And at the last dance call out for an encore

It is sad to learn that Anne Gallen in her sixty ninth year from life has passed away
In Luton in England she lived her last night and day
So many in Millstreet see her as a friend
But life's journey for all of us does have an end

Her leaving of Millstreet became Luton's gain
And in all who knew her good memories of her will remain
One can only hope that her parting from life was a painless release
The beautiful Anne Gallen she now is at peace.

Murderous Cowards

For their god they behead innocent people but their god for this do not blame
Since they choose to plant the seeds of their own bad karma and they will die in their own shame
They have lost the right to be called human since such a title to innocent people belong
They must not be mentally balanced their thought process has gone all wrong
They are of the darkest side of humanity the lowest forms of low life they display
They are such despicable people despicable in every way
The vast majority of the people of their religion are good people but their religion they do betray
By their barbaric crimes they do not represent their god or their religion or Country in any sort of a way
By their guns, swords and bombs these bad people they may feel greatly empowered
But by their unforgivable crimes they have proven that everyone of them is a coward
They behead their prisoners and show their brutal murders online how can they feel proud of such a terrible thing
When such great shame on themselves and their people by their despicable crimes they do bring
Put a gun or a bomb or a sword in the hands of a mad man and you create a murderous coward
As the merciless murderer by such weapons is one who feels greatly empowered.

Friday, August 22, 2014

A Castlemaine Ex Rose

Back in the mid nineteen eighties before she had children and her hair was light brown
She was the young young Rose of old Castlemaine Town
Now a grandmother in her early fifties she lives in a flat on her own
And her better days in life she is one who surely has known

Ten years ago her ex husband left her for one far younger in years
And for lost love that caused her much love-ache she has shed the last of her tears
He left her some men are unfaithful though to him she was a good wife
Though she has had a few brief affairs since then she now does not have a man in her life

The brown haired beauty in her twenties with blond hair dye covers her gray
Like many the years on her telling she has known of a far better day
In weight she has gained more than ten kilos since she was in her life's prime
But youth and beauty to age always lose out and no turning back the hands of time

She was a fair Rose of Castlemaine going back a few decades ago
But time that is known to rust iron it does seem has become her foe
Her ex husband the father of her two daughters is living in Queensland somewhere
With one young enough to be his daughter enjoying life in the big World out there.

It Was My Love Of Rhyming

For me in it no money or even minor fame
This penning of rhyme is a hungry belly game
I have been writing rhyming stuff since nineteen seventy three
It was my love of rhyming made a rhymer of me
If i said i was good at rhyming this would be a lie
But i will be a rhymer till the day i do die
The rhymes keep coming to me and in notebook i pen them down
But never for money or for literary renown
In my younger years i had ambitions of becoming a poet
As a person well worthy of literary note
An unfulfilled ambition it would seem fair to say
But life has it's disappointments since life is this way
An average rhymer is the best i can be
It was my love of rhyming made a rhymer of me.

They Abuse Our Earth Mother

They abuse our Earth Mother for their own financial gain every day
And admiration and respect for their accumulation of wealth many people to them does pay
But by their abuse of our Earth Mother it does seem sad to say
That they are not helping future generations of people in any sort of a way
From Nature we take and we take and in return to her little give
What we do to her to our own selves we do since humanity's existence Nature will outlive
An environmental vandal is not one who lives in poverty
Or a homeless or Stateless person or a refugee
But the one who is quite famous the known billionaire
Amongst the super wealthy environmental vandals are not in any way rare
Why we should affect the lives of future generations for our own financial gain
Is beyond me or anyone else to explain
The damage done to our Earth Mother due to human greed for money seems beyond repair
And the greatest environmental vandal is the billionaire.

Thursday, August 21, 2014

From July Far Away

In memory i can scent the sweetness of hay
From old sunlit meadows from here far away
And young birds are chirping on the leafy trees
On a nice day in July of around twenty degrees

Above the bracken clad hill overlooking the town
The little lark in feathers of grey and brown
A musical speck in the afternoon sky
Is singing as up to the clouds he does fly

The great gift of memory is such a wonderful thing
And every good memory joy with it does bring
The only link to the past that we do retain
That till the day that we do die with us will remain

We cannot return to the what used to be
And time that catches up on everyone is catching up on me
And though we cannot physically return to the forever gone
The good memories of the past in us does live on

Like the Parisian loves Paris and the Roman loves Rome
The migrant retain the good memories of home
And from old sunlit meadows the sweet scent of hay
Comes wafting to me from July far away.


How sad very sad for some life can be
Old jane is a woman i often do see
Walking on the street or the town park and always on her own
Far better and happier days in her life she has known

Six years ago by the Reaper of lives of happiness she was denied
When her husband of fifty years Joe of cancer died
Her soul mate in life she thinks of him every day
Though her grief it has lessened in time from her it has not gone away

The only child their marriage brought them a daughter with her husband has two adult sons in a far away town
They do live far north a thousand miles road journey by car up and down
And poor grey haired Jane who is aging with grace
Has the look of sadness on her wrinkled face

Though she lives on her own far from her family
She looks healthy and well for one of eighty three
But until the day she will die she will miss her husband Joe
Whose life's journey ended some six years ago.

Crested Pigeons

Their wings make a whirring sound as they do fly
And of humans even in town parks they seem rather shy
They never do soar to great heights in the sky
Crested pigeons the name that they are known by
They do look quite beautiful of them it can be said
With bronze on their grey wings and crest of feathers on head
One of the smaller members of the Australian bronzewing family
Of doves in my travels that i often does see
Perching birds they find their food on the ground
Out of breeding Season in small flocks in large numbers they never abound
On a scanty nest of sticks on tree branch the female two white eggs does lay
Birds i do see often though not every day
In pairs or small flocks they search for food on the ground
And when flying with their wings they make a whirring sound.

Wednesday, August 20, 2014

It Is Only The Winners

Their team for them have won the right for to brag
The fans of the winning team wave the club flag
The fans of the losers are looking quite sad
In life what is great to one to another can be bad

It is a fact of life that as a fact will always remain
That one person's loss becomes another person's gain
The winners do laugh and the winners do cheer
And the losers left to drown their sorrows in beer

In all facets of life success is the praise worthy thing
Of the praises of losers you will not hear many sing
In life everything like a sporting game
To the winners alone go the glory and fame

It is only the winners of we wish to know
And in the faces of the losers the sadness does show
And all aspects of life like a game of football
For the losers there is nothing as the winners take all

Old Claraghatlea

In Claraghatlea the old Townland west of Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
By everyone there i was one who was known
In my first home-place then i was one of their own
But in Claraghatlea i may feel a stranger today
From there perhaps i have been too long away
Time it does bring changes as the wise one does say
All of the mentors of my younger years in eternal rest lay
But the old fields many of them had a given name
Perhaps today to me would look much the same
Old fields i did love going back decades ago
Many years before time it did become my foe
Old Claraghatlea where i grew to a man from a boy
Memories of it to me remain a source of joy.

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

So Lets Hear It For Australia

Quite distinctive from other races of Aussies one can say
For to be kind to strangers is the Australian way
The good Australian person is in any way not small
And when speaking of a fair go means a fair go for all

Like anywhere else you will find racism in Australia of varying degrees
But it is not true that all Australians are anti refugees
Politicians for the large redneck voting block of Stateless people broadcast fear
But of the compassionate and kind Australians far too little we do hear

Australia of the far southern hemisphere a big and marvelous Land
And why so many wish to migrate to there one can well understand
A land of varying climates where the weather is mostly fine
Of amazing flora and fauna and beautiful sunshine

That Australians are good people few with this could disagree
Where people of different cultures and backgrounds and religions of persecution do live free
Which is more than for most Countries that anyone can say
So lets hear it for Australia a lusty hip hooray.

On The Eighteenth Day Of August

The nest building male songbirds do whistle and sing
In less that two weeks from the southern calendar Spring
But the cool dampness of Winter is in the chilly breeze
Though new leaves are beginning to bud on some of the deciduous trees
The breeding frogs in the lake singing all night and day
When they are on song you know that Spring is not far away
The wattle trees laden in their bright yellow flowers
They do look their finest in the late Winter showers
In Nature there is so much beauty to see
Every day in my walks it is all around me
At this time of year the male magpies sing day and night
Their flute like music in the calm of the moonlight
And the song of the blackbird so pleasant to hear
On the eighteenth day of August with the calendar Spring near.

Monday, August 18, 2014

Everybody At Some Time

Everybody at some time knows of a maudlin day
When from the World they feel like hiding away
When in public they choke back the tears that yearn to flow
Of such a day everyone does seem to know
For your blessings in life at most times you feel glad
But today without reason to you do feel very sad
And you wonder to yourself why this should be
Since of financial or other worries you are relatively free
Today you feel quite sad and mentally down
One of the unhappy people of the town
That we all have our off days does seem fair to say
The human mind can work in the strangest way
Though you have not felt like this for a few years
Everybody at some time feel the need to shed tears.

Life's Journey For Everyone

Life's journey for everyone comes to an end
We are born to die why otherwise pretend
The pauper the celebrity and the billionaire
The Reaper of lives any life does not spare
Though the praises of the Reaper of lives anyone does not sing
Death in itself is quite a natural thing
The great equalizer in truth one can say
There cannot be inequality where dead people lay
What is seen as success and failure in life can be due to birth circumstance
The one born to poverty stricken parents of success stands little chance
But if in life of Karma you do plant the good seed
By helping anyone of your help in need
The kind and compassionate good people indeed
And of them one can say in life they do succeed.

Sunday, August 17, 2014


He hails from the flat countryside near Ararat
The middle aged gun shearer forty five years old Matt
He often has shorn two hundred hoggets a day
One can say of him he earns his every pay

The mother of his twenty year old son never became his wife
She was his partner for a few years of her life
But he came home from the shearing sheds of South Australia to find she had taken their baby with her and gone
And though disappointed and sad he kept on shearing and life for him went on

Since then a few sexual affairs he has had
And Matt is one who takes the good days with the bad
A man who is partial to the glass of cheer
In pubs in bush towns he has drunk many a beer

A tall handsome fellow with hair silver grey
In Matt there is nothing to dislike in any way
Hard drinking and hard working he is known far and wide
The fellow from the green Ararat countryside.

Saturday, August 16, 2014

When Koroit Won The Flag

The fans of the Saints had a good reason for to brag
When their team came to Town with the Premiership Flag
The red, black and white colors of Koroit on every flag post
The joyous Koroit fans of their club's big win were making the most
In the Commercial Hotel and Mickey Bourke's Pub
The fans were drinking toasts to their favorite Football Club
In Koroit Town a night of celebration and beer
The old pubs were full of the laughter of cheer
Warrnambool's best the Saints of Koroit of their glory could not deny
But since Koroit won the flag a few years gone by
The Saints had played their way into Football renown
And the celebrations went on for weeks in Koroit Town
And their loyal fans had every good reason to brag
On the day that Koroit won the Premiership Flag.

The Knocknagree Man

When the gray fogs from view cover every Boggeragh Hill
And the freshening winds in them do have a cool chill
And the cawing of the rooks on the tall trees you do hear
You know that the rain to Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra is near
Some of the weather lessons he learned from Nature when he was a boy
And such knowledge to him then was a source of joy
But the boy has grown into a man and the man is aging and gray
And in life he has known of a far better day
A grandfather ten times he lives with his aging wife
Far south of Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra he will live out his life
It has been fifty years since from high Knocknagree he saw the Paps of Shrone
And the hill of Caherbarnagh and Gortavehy with the face of stone
On Saturday evening in the pub he sings Bold Thady Quill
The man from the Village on the far away hill.

What Happens To My Remains

What happens to my remains when i have lived my last night and day
Since on that i do not wish to have or will not have any say
If  what is left of me in a crematorium burned to ash or put in the ground to decay
It surely will not matter to me then anyway

That i was born to die to me is obviously clear
And it is only the fear of death that i do fear
For death is the end of life's journey and a natural thing
Though the praises of the Reaper of Lives you will not hear many sing

The longest lived human life in time not a long span
Though on average a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
In retrospect it does not seem that long ago since i was in my life's prime
Though this is going back some four decades in time.

If i die tomorrow i will have had a good innings and in truth i can say
It will not matter to me then where my last remains do lay
Life has been good to me and i have no cause to complain
And i only hope the Reaper will claim the life from me quickly without any pain.

Live In The Moment

The past gone forever and the future ahead
And the now is all that does matter as the wise one has said
And tomorrow the birds will chirp and sing in the dawning gray
And life will go on as usual as it went on today
Can anyone say what the future will bring
Except we know that the nesting birds will chirp and sing
But one can only make the most of every day
Live for the moment since time ticks away
Memories of what was are ours to recall
And it is heartening to realize that your biggest worry to the worries of some do seem very small
Life is so short take it one day at a time
For we age rather quickly beyond our life's prime
The past gone forever and the future ahead
And we can only live in the moment as has often been said.

The Boston Terror

One never found to be wanting when he was put to the test
From lightweight up to heavyweight he fought some of the World's best
Boxers but due mostly to the color of his skin
He never fought for a World title though against great fighters great fights he did win

Though never a World Champion the Canadian born Sam Langford was perhaps the greatest pound for pound fighter of all time
He was back then the one with his boxing skills  who inspired the makers of song, story and rhyme
He fought the great heavyweight champion Jack Johnson in what was one of the greatest fights ever fought
Yet his boxing skills to Sam Langford no great riches ever brought

He did not lack in courage what he lacked in weight and height
Nicknamed The Boston Terror some of the World's best big men he did fight
In close to two hundred ring battles he seldom knew of defeat
He fought the best in many weight divisions and the best he often beat

The World's greatest pound for pound fighter in decades long gone
Of the mighty Sam Langford the legend lives on
A great person and a great boxer his type a rare kind
And though he fought many ring battles he died poor and blind.

Friday, August 15, 2014

A Lot Of Good People

A lot of good people are locked up in jail
In Countries governed by autocratic regimes the flawed justice system them did fail
For having the courage to speak out against the ruling government is their only crime
Deprived of their human and lawful rights in their life's prime
Thousands of people in Countries governed by despots imprisoned wrongfully
Without any hope of ever again being set free
Many of them in prison till the day they do die
This is how life is in some Countries though one wishes this were a lie
Where in fear of reprisals to speak against the government people feel cowed
In Countries where only positive comments on the political leaders are allowed
In such Nations it does not pay for to speak your mind
If in your words the government can feel a threat of some kind
A lot of good people are in prison today
For criticizing their government from the outside World locked away.

Each Time She Sees Billy

Each time she sees Billy her feelings she cannot disguise
She looks at him with love in her brown eyes
Her eyes cannot hide the words she cannot say
The look in the eyes to the feelings a give away
A beautiful young woman in her life's prime
Brown haired Ann in her mid twenties is on the right side of time
Though such feelings in itself are not even rare
The man she is in love with of her feelings towards him unaware
A married grandfather more than twice her age his hair silver gray
An aging man many Seasons beyond his prime day
The eyes cannot hide the words one cannot say
And love it is not ageist in any sort of a way
Whenever she meets Billy true love is in the eyes of Ann
But sadly for her he will never be her man.

Those Who Give To Receive

The people who give to receive and plant Karma's good seed
Of more of their kind the the Human World is in need
Such as the people who travel to third World Countries from their home-place far away
And work for poverty stricken people without the reward of financial pay
That they are a credit to humanity of them seems fair to say
And the World is in need of many more like them today
And the people who go to the poor streets of the town
To help the homeless and mentally and financially down
And supply them with blankets and clothing and a little money to get by
For the betterment of humanity their best they do try
To their higher principles they remain ever true
And for their great humanitarian works far greater credit they are due
There should be a day set aside once a year to honor those who give to receive
That they deserve no less than this i for one does believe.

Thursday, August 14, 2014

Quite Your Average Joe

That he is Australia's Federal Treasurer everyone knows to be so
And his recently launched biography is titled 'Not Your Average Joe'
But going by some of his comments he seems quite ordinary
A below average Federal Treasurer is how he seems to be

Going by some of the comments he has made of late
Joe Hockey he is not the poor person's mate
One of those who puts his foot in his mouth every day
He does not know of the financial struggles of the poor going by what of them he does say

He reckons his Government's proposed increase on fuel tax will not affect poor people since they do not drive a car
Beyond the wealthy suburb he lives in Joe Hockey does not look far
Poor working people in rural Australia who work for bare award wages pay
To get to their place of work drives a car every day

The title of his recently published biography 'Not Your Average Joe' does not ring at all true
A nice compliment like this is surely not due
To one who by his policies believe that only to the wealthy there should be a fair go
He does seem indeed quite 'Your Average Joe'

The Young Cullen Beauty

Her eyes are as blue as a November sloe
And her shoulder length wavy hair as dark as the wing of a crow
And beauty goes with her to wherever she go
The girl from the place where the Araglen flow

In her early twenties and close to her life's prime
One can say she is on the right side of time
Far south of Cullen where she went to Primary school
She feels happy in the City of Warrnambool

A dark haired handsome young Aussie has come into her life
And to him she surely will make a good wife
And though her accent tell of one from a place far away
She loves her young Warrnambool man and with him she will stay

In North Cork in Cullen in the Barony of Duhallow
She first saw light of day and into a young woman did grow
But the lust of the wander has brought her far south
Of Araglen the old waterway of the brown river trout

The young Cullen beauty has turned twenty three
In love and quite happy and of any cares free
She will marry her young Aussie man in the Fall
And she does not miss her first home-place at all.

Wednesday, August 13, 2014

Though The More Judgmental

Though the more judgmental may dismiss you as a never do well
Of life you do have your own stories to tell
And though your journey it will not lead you to renown
You are one who knows how it feels to feel down

It can indeed be a tough World to live in
Where many must lose for a few for to win
Most wealthy people are not known for their compassion and empathy
For the poor of the World most of them do not feel any sympathy

The poor of the World  have never been rare
Hundreds in poverty for every millionaire
And compared to millionaires in the World billionaires are few
On saying this i am not saying anything that is new

Though the more judgmental of you do not have kind things to say
Financially they do not help you in any sort of a way
And though your lack of money may cause you inner strife
You too do have stories to tell of your life.

My Green Goddess

I fear death since i am not a warrior to say different would be a lie
But i realize that we are of Nature's air breathing life forms and Nature's life forms are born for to die
As much as the insect or fish or animal as much as the wild bird of song
I am one of the family of Nature and to Nature i feel i belong

Were i a poet i would write of Nature and the beauty i see every day
The one who does have many secrets that from us she keeps hidden away
In my walks and they are many i never fail to learn something new
Of the one who fills me with wonder but whose secrets are not in the few

The cycle of Nature does go on forever but the longest lived human life in real time not a long span
By a few years on average it is said the woman does outlive the man
In life we are all on a journey a journey that does have an end
Like all other life forms we are mortals why otherwise even pretend

I fear death since i am not a brave one so i hope to live for as long as i can
And i hope to die without having to suffer, peacefully in my sleep as a very old man
My Green Goddess her name is Nature and her beauty i see every day
And i surely would write a poem for her if with words i did have a way.

From Claraghatlea

From Claraghatlea a mile west of Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
But since i left there many Seasons ago
Time that rusts iron has become my foe
I left there when Clara wore a hat of snow
And Finnow in the rushy fields bank high did flow
The babies when i left there now in their lives prime
They too like me will become victims of time
Just one of the many who has moved to elsewhere
For to try out my luck in the big World out there
But for my travels i have little in money to show
My bank account sadly for me did not grow
From Claragatlea where i grew into a man
My journey to the Land Down Under began.

Tuesday, August 12, 2014

An August Day

The sun in the gray clouds is hidden away
On what is a calm though chilly August day
In the Lake of Tower Hill the breeding frogs sing
On just twenty days from the calendar Spring
A weather forecast high for the day of thirteen degrees
And Nature's own beauty on the wattle trees
That are laden in their blossoms the color of yellow gold
In Nature all year round beauty to behold
Quite typical weather for the time of year
But the songs of the blackbirds are pleasant to hear
And the nesting magpies are singing on the tall trees
With a Wintery chill in the very slight breeze
On what happens to be a typical August day
With the calendar Spring only three weeks away.

The Voice Of Joy Around You

The voice of joy around you is ringing loud
But you are the lonely one amongst the crowd
The others are laughing and having a good time
Though to feel how you feel is never a crime
With the dark moods of sadness you often do fight
The loneliest person in the pub tonight
Unemployed and friendless and in spirits down
Few do wish to know a sad sack of the town
Of late you have nothing in your life about for to smile
Sad to say you are one who has not laughed for awhile
To a wealthy fellow you have lost your girlfriend
Money speaks every language why otherwise pretend
In your early twenties close to your prime years
Amongst the barroom laughter you are close to tears.

Monday, August 11, 2014

I Do Not Talk To My Aussie Friends Of

I do not talk to my Aussie friends of  a place that means much to me
That in my flights of fancy i often do see
That beautiful part of my Homeland Ireland
Since the true depths of nostalgia they may not understand

Since their interests are mostly of Cricket and Australian Rules Football
I never do tell of my life in my first home at all
Of my joy at the lark's song above Claramore
Since they are not interested on stories of Nature from a foreign shore

Or of the silver tongue stream of the wild born trout
Such things to them i never do talk about
And since Nature to them it is not of any interest
For to fit in their company i try my best

I cannot feel comfortable for to share with them my memories of joy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Their favorite topic is the weekend's big game
But then how boring we would be if we all were the same

I never talk to them of where the Blackwater flow
Or of the high woods of the silver back crow
A different sort of childhood to them i have known
No two see life in exactly the same way and to each their own

Whilst old memories in private do have me close to tears
I do not talk to my Aussie friends of my younger years
Since their favorite topics are Cricket and Australian Rules Football
My sort of reminiscing would not interest them at all.

A Sight Of Great Beauty

A sight of great beauty for one to behold
The wattle trees laden in their blooms of gold
When in full bloom in August in late Winter of the year
One knows to Victoria that Spring it is near
The blackbird is singing in the wind and the rain
So nice to hear his beautiful song again
And the magpie sits on her eggs on her stick nest on a tall tree
Whilst her mate sings his flute like song for to proclaim territory
August in south west Victoria the sun behind gray clouds hidden away
Quite windy and showery a typical Winter's day
But it is said it is a sign of an early Spring
When in Winter the golden bill blackbird does sing
The calendar Spring only three weeks away
And the birds they are singing in Koroit today.

Sunday, August 10, 2014

It Is Mostly Bad News

It is mostly bad news in the World every day
Of murder and mayhem in Lands far away
In mistrust amongst tribes that leads to war and strife
Where little respect is shown for human life
Already in the twenty first century civilians in their thousands in war zones have died
From the gunmen and bombers they have nowhere to hide
From aerial bombings their homes are destroyed
Poor people who do not seem to have God on their side
The war supposed to end all wars ended nearly a century ago
And the sworn enemies back then no longer to each other a foe
But bigger and more destructive war weaponry used in the World of today
And death and severe injuries and destruction the price of war for to pay
Few good stories on the news on radio or t v to hear of or see
Lessons have not been learned from past wars is how it seems to be.

That The Majority Of The Wealth

That the majority of the wealth is owned by the minority does seem sad to say
It is not a very fair World for many to live in the Human World of today
That for a few for to grow wealthy many in poverty
How very sad indeed this does seem to be
That many are born to live homeless and hungry is so sad indeed
In a fair Human World people would not go in need
Of life's necessities but this is not the case
A future of poverty due to circumstance of birth many children must face
Millions of people tonight homeless and sleeping rough
For the twenty first century this is not good enough
And the rich getting richer this is not a good thing
And the praises of billionaires the masses do sing
In a Human World where inequality is rife
Millions of people only know of a miserable life.

Saturday, August 9, 2014

Time Has Become My Foe

I feel my whole being is bereft of light
My mind it is as dark  as the darkest night
The praises of self i never can sing
Though many do see this as a good thing

The years have left me bald and old and gray
And i feel in life that i have lost my way
And surely i have known a far better day
Time does not wait as ever true to say

That we receive from life what is only our due
Is a truism that i do hold to be true
We earn from life what from life we do receive
On such i am one who does firmly believe

Though i have penned reams and reams of doggerel
Of life i do not have any success story to tell
Since i penned my first rhymes in nineteen seventy three
Writing rhymes never seems for to come hard to me

My bogey to success as ever does seem
Is i am one of a sense of low self esteem
And this never does take one to anywhere
In the competitive big World out there

Though in public a brighter side i try to show
I am one who does lack in the inner glow
Mentally down though  not yet counted out
What have i got to feel happy about?

That i may never again walk in old Millstreet Town
The very thought of it does get me down
Since my stocks in life they have never soared
A flight ticket is something that i cannot affford

Though well into my sixties and in my life's Fall
My worries compared to many do seem rather small
My better days are back in the long  ago
And time that rusts iron has become my foe.

A Son Of Hibernia

A son of Hibernia i pen doggerel
I am of the tribe of the never do well
Though i have seen a little of the big World out there
My journey in life leading me to nowhere

I have made it far south of where my life's journey began
From the hills and the fields where i grew to a man
And only the memories with me now remain
Of faces and places i may not see again

I do feel at home in the land of  wallaby, koala and roo
Of emu, rosella, lory and lyrebird and cockatoo
And magpie, kookaburra and pee wee and currawong
The dark birds who are known to have rain in their song

Often in my flights of fancy i can hear the rill
Babbling to the river down the fields by the hill
But the now is all that does matter it does seem this way
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today

My journey in life it has brought me far south
Of the home of the badger and shy river trout
A son of Hibernia the Ireland of today
Of the Boggeragh Ranges from here far away.

Friday, August 8, 2014

In Life I Have Been Lucky

Though the hair on my balding head is silver gray
In life i have been lucky it does seem this way
My health is quite good and i hope this is how it will stay
For as long as i live till my last night and day
Though success as a stranger to me does remain
It cannot be said of me that another person's loss has become my gain
Since i never did have much money to my name
Suppose i will die as a stranger to fame
From some of those i went to school with the breath of life gone
I feel lucky at my age to be living on
Though i too have lived through moments of inner strife
If i die tomorrow i will have had a good life
Though i hope to live on for as long as i can
And die in my sleep without pain as a very old man.

Paddy McCarthy Of Rowels

Paddy McCarthy of Rowels was a noble young man
Whose life was cut short in his youthful elan
From the bullet of a gun fired by a Black and Tan
Going back more than nine decades in time quite a span

That he was a brave fellow of him cannot be denied
In the darkness of night in Millstreet Town he died
From a bullet through one of his eyes that shattered his brain
In a gun fight with the Black and Tans in old Mill View Lane

A Duhallow hero of Ireland's War of  Independence he never lived to see
Of British occupation his beloved Country free
His rendezvous with death in Mill View Lane his life's destiny
But sadly he paid a huge price for his bravery

He did not live to join in the celebrations when self Government was won
But his mother in him gave birth to a brave son
That we are born as mortals surely not a lie
But he loved his Country enough for it for to die

In Millstreet Town in a gunfight in old Mill View Lane
He died from the bullet of a Tan gun that shattered his brain
For the love of his Country with his life he did pay
But his legend lives on in Duhallow today.

In Australia The Big Land

It's amazing wildlife and varying scenery
In Australia the big Land there is so much to see
From the tip of Cape York to Tasmania's southern shore
Six thousand kilometers by plane maybe more
Eighty per cent of Australia's population live in it's big cities and it is fair to say
That it is arguably the most urban Country in the World of today
In the vast outback few small towns where few people reside
Just treeless brown country far as the eyes see flat and wide
Amongst the democratic Nations of the World Australia takes it's place
The home of the descendants of the first Australians a very old race
The children of the people of the Dreamtime
Have become the legends of story and rhyme
For it's amazing flora and fauna Australia is widely known
The big Southern Country with a charm of it's own.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

I May Never Again

I may never again see the white waves splash on the rocks of Hibernia's shore
And hear the lark sing on a Spring day high over Clara above Claramore
And hear the dipper in the river singing his unmistakeable song
A water bird once seen and once heard that one never again does get wrong
In far fields i grew to love Nature when i was a very young boy
I loved her then as i love her now and learning of her ways i enjoy
And from Nature we never stop learning  we learn from her every day
I learn from the magpies and pee wees as i walk in the park by the bay
My stay on this Planet will be a brief stay but Nature she keeps living on
The wild birds will chirp, sing and whistle when the breath of life from me has gone
The book of life is such a great book i learn something new every day
In life we do never stop learning as the wise one has been known to say
I learned my first lessons in Nature far north of the home of the emu and roo
Far north of the woods of the wombat and the yellow tail black cockatoo.

To Many

To many i am a frivolous person with the arrogance to laugh at life
But i have found laughter for to be an antidote for inner strife
Laugh and the World laughs with you an old saying with that i do agree
Life is very short and unpredictable for to be taken seriously

I am not one who has heaps of money so money to me is not everything
But suppose if i had heaps of money the praises of it i surely would sing
For money does speak every language as the wise one has been known for to say
But life it does go on as usual and tomorrow will dawn like today.

I used to have life aspirations but that was a long time ago
But now i realize it does not matter since time it has become my foe
I no longer take myself seriously just take it one day at a time
To many i may be a  poetaster  but i am happy when i am penning rhyme

Do not lose any sleep to worry of what others of you do say
And why look far into the future when you can only live in the day
Nowadays i never does take myself seriously try to laugh my way to happiness
It is all too late now for regretting a life that does lack in success.

Since He Left The Far Town

Since he left the far town for the big World out there
His journey thus far in life has not led to anywhere
Near to he wants to reach in his quest for success
In his music and singing talent scouts he fails to impress
To earn his survival existence he busks on the street
Where with other buskers for his living coins he does compete
His dream of becoming a famous rock star he does pursue
But such a dream for very few ever does come true
In his mid twenties and in his life's prime
But of becoming a rock star his foe now is time
Since rock stars in their late teens and early twenties for themselves make a name
And many of them only know of a brief spell of fame
He busks on the street for a few hours every day
The one who daydreams of becoming a rock star from the town far away.

Wednesday, August 6, 2014

Though Many With Such Thinking

Though many with such thinking may not agree
We all end up as failures is how it seems to me
Since eventually we all are destined for to die
That death is the great equalizer is and was never a lie
The Grim Reaper on all lives has the final say
For everyone there is a last night and last day
The same for the monarch and president as the one in poverty
No matter what your achievements death your life's destiny
That in life everyone are not equal happens to be true
But equality comes later since death is all of our due
No matter what your achievements the Reaper of Lives your life will not spare
The one who claims the life of the town's poorest person will claim the life of the billionaire
Though on the ladder of success you may have climbed far
Death will be your lot no matter who you are.

On A Phone Call From Mick Kissane

The phone did ring around 3 p m the phone call was for me
The voice was unmistakeable i recognized it immediately
It was Mick Kissane of Swansea Road he first saw light of day
In Kenmare in County Kerry from Victoria far away

One who knows of the many an up and down in life and what it's all about
Of the windswept shores of old Hibernia he did venture far south
He is aging far south of Kenmare where his life's journey began
Where he lived in his youthful years and grew into a man

But he remains a Kerry-man at heart and it is not a lie
That in the mind of every migrant old allegiances do not die
And to criticize Kerry to him i would not feel that bold
Since he remains as ever true to the famous green and gold

He is an optimistic man for to give him his due
That Kerry win the All Ireland and Hawthorn win the A F L Premiership would be his 2014 dream come true
And though such a double in itself would not cause a surprise
That every thing in  life does not go one's way he too does realize

Though he remains faithful to Kerry and their famous green and gold
For old allegiances die hard by wiser council told
He will not live in Kenmare in weather often wet and cold
In sunny northern Queensland he would like to grow old

A phone call from Mick Kissane a fellow i know well
Of life and of it's many an up and down one with stories to tell
He did have a health scare of late but cannot keep a good man down
And he is back near to his best far south of Kenmare Town.

No Matter What

No matter what your Country your creed or your race
You will not go through life without some challenge to face
And some just to survive face a new challenge every day
Some know it far tougher than others suppose life is this way
I feel lucky i could have been born in a third World Country
With my parents in a refugee camp with millions of displaced people as a child refugee
There are millions of displaced people doing it tougher than me
Suppose this is how life is and how it always will be
Even in so called wealthy Countries hidden poverty is rife
Everyday unemployed homeless people are battling in life
In doorways of disused buildings sleeping rough tonight
For millions their futures are not looking bright
But even many of those from the wealthy side of the town
Do know how it is like to feel mentally down.

Tuesday, August 5, 2014

Golden Whistlers

With dark head and green back and wings and breast and under of gold
And white patch on throat the males beautiful to behold
And the females much plainer mostly gray to brown
Birds more often seen in woods than in backyards of rural town

They build a flimsy cup shaped nest of grass on upright fork on tree
Where the female lays her cream spotted brown eggs of two or three
Quite beautiful birds with a charm of their own
To most rural people golden whistlers are known

The male birds have a beautiful whistle like song
You hear them once and you never again get them wrong
Non flock birds they are not common but not endangered in any way
I see their kind often though not every day

Their beautiful colors and whistling songs their claims to bird fame
Golden whistlers are birds who live up to their name
Birds of the wooded countryside amongst the songsters supreme
In a class of their own as whistlers it does seem.

Like Everyone Else

Like everyone else i have good days and bad
But life is too short to feel constantly maudlin and sad
I pity those who others do try to impress
And laugh with those who can laugh at their lack of success
Few do wish to know those who look and feel down
They almost seem friendless the sad sacks of the town
If money could buy one the bright inner glow
The wealthy of unhappiness would never know
Those who smile at strangers and wish them a good day
Are doing their bit for happiness in no small way
Those with the inner glow are always cheerful and bright
Of their every worry they seem to make light
We all have our worries and times of inner strife
One might say such things do go with living life.

An August Day

The weather though dry a typical August day
The sun in the gray clouds is hidden away
Yet the bird who does sing every day of the year
The flute like song of the magpie is always pleasant to hear
And how nice in the Winter to hear the Blackbird sing
Is he telling us of an early Spring?
Since birds of weather patterns than humans far more seem to know
And my wonder of them only does seems to grow
Yesterday it was sunny though the air in it had a cool chill
But today though overcast the magpies carry sticks in bill
For to build their nests on the taller trees
On a forecast high for the day of fourteen degrees
And the song of the blackbird melodious and clear
Foretells of a very early Spring this year.

Monday, August 4, 2014

Chesterton And Belloc

Poets of those who love rollicking rhyme
Chesterton and Belloc their legacy lives on in time
Their marvelous verses are popular today
With words they were poets who did have a way

Chesterton and Belloc in their writing sometimes did combine
Between them they penned many a memorable line
They were famous writers in Seasons long gone
And though long deceased their legends live on

Belloc's Cautionary Tales humorous words in rhyme is verse at it's best
By the Rhyming Goddess he must have been blessed
A talented, humorous and quite a clever man
The wisdom and wit in his written words have long outlived his life span

From the pen of Chesterton beautiful rhyme it did flow
In death his status and legend as a poet does grow
His great poem The Rolling English Road is in literary renown
In his lifetime one toasted in many a town

As writers they are held in the highest esteem
Chesterton and Belloc were poets supreme
They remain as the masters of humor in rhyme
And their verses have withstood the great test of time.

Scotland The Free

Will Scotland The Brave become Scotland the free
If this will come about this will not be by bloodshed but by democracy
To break away from England and the Government of the Throne
The Scottish in September will vote for to go it alone
Usually independence for a Nation does come at a huge cost
But if the Scottish do vote for independence no lives will be lost
Over independence for Nations much human blood has been shed
And families are left for to mourn for their dead
If the Scottish do not vote for independence from Britain Scottish Nationalists about this will feel bad
But at least in a peaceful way an opportunity for self Government they will have had
But who knows the Scottish Nationalists may well win the day
For everything comes to those who do wait as the wise one does say
And Scotland The Brave will become Scotland The Free
But the good thing there will not be bloodshed and death whatever the results will be.

Sunday, August 3, 2014

Bound By Their Church Law

Bound by their church law of celibacy they do not have a wife
The Roman Catholic Priest does lead a lonely life
By a minority of his fellow priests he has been betrayed
Though for forgiveness for them to his God he has prayed
For the serious crimes and sins of a minority of his fellow priests he should not take any blame
But some people do generalize and this does seem a shame
Like most of his fellow priests to his higher self and to his God he is true
And for the pure life he does live credit is surely his due
For celibacy even for one's vocation the sacrifice is high to pay
Especially in the Human World we do live in today
A tiny minority from the path of righteousness does stray
But that even a few Roman Catholic Priests are quite imperfect does seem sad to say
A kind and devout person he lives a good and moral life and by good example does lead
But it is only of a minority of far less worthy priests we do hear of or read.

In Some Sort Of A Way

It only does seem a fair thing for to say
That many of us are addictive in some sort of a way
Narcotics and nicotine and alcohol are three that readily do come to mind
But of addictions of course there are many kind
I am one addicted to penning of rhyme
I have written reams of it over four decades of time
I commenced writing in my late twenties in my life's prime
And i would be in prison if penning of doggerel was a crime
Most of us humans do live with some sort of a need
And those free of addictions are lucky indeed
And if i said i was free of addictions this would be a lie
Since i will be a rhymer till the day i do die.

A Little Hard Work

A little hard work never harmed anyone
The hard working dad's advice to his son
Though some would consider this to be a lie
That the harder you work the sooner you will die
That hard work wears out a tractor engine happens to be true
Though many will tell you the harder you work the greater reward in money is your due
Though it does not mean the harder you work the bigger your bank account does grow
Some for their hard work in money have little to show
The hard working fellow does sleep well at night
And wakes in the dark an hour before the sun's light
Brightens the sky in the dawning of day
He earns his livelihood in the hardest way
A little hard work never harmed anyone
The hard working dad's advice to his son.

Saturday, August 2, 2014

For Many In Life

The sorrow the joy and the inner strife
This is what it is about the living of life
As life for many is not easy it does seem this way
For millions some new challenge for to face every day
As the gap between the poor and the wealthy does grow
And of a fair go in life many will never know
Of due to the huge handicap of birth circumstance
Of any success in life they do stand little chance
Though success not failure in life everybody does choose
For every one winner so many must lose
Millions on a below poverty line income do struggle to cope
For a better life for themselves and their families they can only live in hope
From their very first dawn into their twilight years
For many in life far less laughter than tears.

Port Fairy

Port Fairy voted as the World's most livable Small Town
But this only one of it's many claims to renown
For it's huge annual music festival it has become known Worldwide
A beautiful place in the Moyne coastal countryside
As a gem in the crown of Victoria's south west
Every visitor to there is always impressed
With the friendliness of it's people where natural beauty abound
Where in Griffith Island  the short tailed shear-waters have their breeding ground
Near where the waters of the Moyne river crawls silently deep and slow
As at the end of it's long journey into the great Pacific it does flow
Port Fairy a seaside Town of the Moyne Shire of many a smiling face
The World's most livable small Town is quite a beautiful place
As a tourist attraction and holiday destination it has become widely known
A coastal gem of the Moyne Shire with a charm of it's own.


There are bullies in the school yard and in the work place
And in all parts of the World in and of every Race
It does seem that most bullies are born to be this way
Few of them grow to be nicer as they grow old and gray
Bullies can be of either gender and their bullying ways start as a young girl or boy
And being cruel to and humiliating those who are scared of them they thoroughly enjoy
There are bullies in every village and city and town
And all bullies feel pleasure in putting people verbally or physically down
But bullies can be latent cowards it does appear
As most bullies of bigger bullies do live in fear
There are bullies in Parliament as we know all too well
People with power who enjoy making life for poor people a complete Earthy Hell
Bullies are not rare or rare never will be
And this seems a sad thing would you not agree.

Friday, August 1, 2014

Ned Twohig

Tomorrow will not dawn for everyone as Ned Twohig used to say
The wise old bloke of Annagloor with words did have a way
One never flustered by life he lived to a good age
The easy going old fellow he was a local sage

As a young man Ned Twohig left Ballydaly for the U S of A
But in Annagloor in view of Clara where he grew old and gray
He lived with his wife Elly nee Dennehy and their daughters Mary and Nora and his brother in law Con
Years back when i was younger in Seasons now long gone

Amongst the deceased of Millstreet Parish Ned Twohig's bones do lay
As a mentor of my younger years fond memories of him with me stay
He went through life without making an enemy people like he was are few
One who learned from the book of life and so much of life he knew

All i have left are the memories of the people of my past
And time has left me aging on my life ticking fast
The Ned Twohig i remember was well past his life's elan
But he was wise and worldly and quite a gentleman

For all of us a final Winter and Spring, Summer and Fall
And all we have left are the memories of our past to recall
But such marvelous mental images of the what was i retain
And in my flights of fancy Ned Twohig lives again.

It Is True About Laughter

It is true about laughter it keeps worries away
And the one who is happy does laugh every day
Laughter is the seed that blooms to happiness
And is known as the proven antidote to stress
The one who can laugh has a great gift indeed
It is something in life everyone of is in need
One has to feel for the poor sad sacks of the town
Laughter can be a gift to the one feeling down
The sweet lilt of laughter can be such a beautiful sound
And wherever it is joy is to be found
Laughter is infectious it does spread around
And where it is merriment always does abound
To happiness laughter is always the seed
And those who have it have a great gift indeed.

If There Is A Heaven

If there is a Heaven for good souls then my soul is destined for Hell
As my punishment for penning reams of doggerel
But i know that the souls of many famous people there i will meet
Who for fame as per usual with each other compete

Since many follow the leader or so it does seem
It looks like the majority are affected by low self esteem
The Judas sheep leads her kind up the factory slaughter ramp to their deaths every day
With many of us humans it too seems this way

Like many i do not have a mind of my own
For to follow the leader i too have been known
Many of those who do lead me i do not look up to as a friend
I too am a follower of this why pretend

If there is a life after death i will end up in Hell
As punishment for the sin of doggerel
That i have been penning since my life's prime
And this is going back some four decades in time.