Wednesday, December 31, 2014

My Friends Of The Past Over There

My friends of the past over there i have not seen for some while
And between us in distance there is many a mile
And though them i have not seen for decades of years
For what used to be i have shed all of my tears

In my memory i see them as they used to be
But memory and reality are different as most would agree
Like me they are many years past their lives prime
And like me they too would be showing the wear of time

Some of my friends of the past are not living today
Their lot will be my lot since life is this way
Though young in my memory they do remain
In the flesh we are never to meet again

Like me some of my friends of the past did not stay in the old homeplace
The challenge of living life elsewhere they did choose to face
Whilst some in the old Parish have chosen to stay
That no two life journeys the same it does seem fair to say

It has been many years since them i did meet
My friends of the past over there in and around Millstreet
And only the memories with me do remain
Of what used to be and cannot be again.

Old Guiseppe

Old Guiseppe he talks of Rome every day
The City he was born and raised in from here far away
Perhaps he will die in Geelong in Victoria a long way from home
Far south of his beloved City of Rome

A widower of twenty years his wife Claudia of cancer died
He brought her from Rome with him as his young bride
She was quite a loving and devoted wife
His soulmate and the one great love of his life

An eighty three years old great grandfather showing the wear of time
Guiseppe was a handsome man in his life's prime
What hair he has left on his balding head is silver gray
And clearly he has known of a far better day

He and Claudia were a beautiful couple when they were young
And though he speaks good English he retains the accent of the Italian tongue
His best years in life many decades ago
But eventually time becomes everyone's foe

It has been seventeen years since he last was in Rome
The City to him that does remain as home
But in Geelong in Victoria he may live his last night and day
At least anyhow it is looking this way.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

A Horrible Thing

Such sad news we hear of and read of every day
Of wars fought in Countries from here far away
People killing each other because of religion and culture and land
Why people never learn from past wars seems hard to understand
Those who claim war leads to peace does believe their own lie
Every year thousands of civilians in war zones do die
In shootings and bombings where human life is taken cheap
Those responsible for such atrocities do sow what they will reap
With little hope of peace in the decades ahead
Patriotism, nationalism and religion are responsible for many war dead
In some Countries for one to be different is seen as a crime
There will not be peace in the World at least not in my lifetime
The praises of dead war heroes the patriots may sing
But war in reality is a horrible thing.

What I Enjoy Doing

I do know that my rhymes are a bit rough
Or that i never will be seen as good enough
To be honoured with the title of a poet
I am not worthy of such literary note
Yet since i was in my life's physical prime
I am one who has penned many a rhyme
An addictive rhymer who will never know of wealth and fame
To me penning stuff is a hungry belly game
My better days in life in the long gone
But i love rhyming and i will rhyme on
If i told you different this would be a lie
As a rhymer i live and as a rhymer i will die
And suppose i will be doing it on my life's last day
What i enjoy doing why should i give away.

Monday, December 29, 2014

It Is True About Time

It is true about time it does take care of all
Life forms including people from the great to the small
If not to the chainsaw the great tree strong and tall
To the wear of old age does eventually fall
People quickly age beyond their lives prime
We all become victims of the one known as time
The baby of the present will be old one day
Time does not wait on anyone as the wise one does say
I am not any different to the ageing sheep
Though unlike me she does not realize for her a final sleep
One thing in common with other life forms we do share
Of which us human beings only seem aware
That there is a last night and day for all
Life forms of the world from the great to the small.

The Fellow Who Does His Own Thing

He believes that life after the death of the body is based on a theological lie
And that God is a manufactured brand name and the soul with the body does die
He is one of the Godless people without a God for to pray to
For to follow the preachings of others is something he never would do
An atheist in his way of thinking yet he lives an honourable life
A man who does love his young children and remains ever true to his wife
He does not have heroes or heroines and the praises of anyone he never sing
And neither does he sing his own praises the fellow who does his own thing
He is never at social gatherings and he is not a member of any club
And he never joins in any local sporting victory celebration in the near to his home local pub
The young father in his late twenties at the height of his physical prime
In his work free hours listening to classical music is his idea of having a good time
A landscape gardener by profession he works hard for his every pay
And though he may be a social outsider he does seem to like it this way.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

You May Never Be Wealthy And Famous

You may never be wealthy and famous one daily in the news Worldwide
But that success it can be quite relative is something that cannot be denied
Some of those known to be quite wealthy and famous are not very nice people at all
They never do anyone favours in their ways they can be quite small
If you live as a compassionate person and be the best that you can be
Then you have a gift that is special the great gift known as empathy
You may not have millions in money on material things for to spend
But you are one who is kind and caring and to many you are a good friend
Our gift of life it is not forever in time it is not a long span
Three score and ten years on an average a few years longer for a woman than a man
The praises of the wealthy and famous the impressionable masses may sing
But if by your compassion and kindness happiness to others you do bring
Then you are a very good person and a successful life you do live
Whilst some only know how to receive you are one who does know how to give.

Where Nobody Cares

In Millstreet as a young fellow i was not a bright boy of the school
But nobody cares where i came from in Illowa near Warrnambool
Or what i did in my working existence or if i do have uni degrees
Though in Illowa like all other places money does never grow on the trees

Where i will always be a stranger a man from a place far away
Though the locals are quite friendly to me they always bid me a good day
One who has lived in many places and always yearns for places new
The wanderlust remains strong in me in that i am not one of a few

Though i do live far south of my birthplace so little of the World i have seen
And it has been many Springs since i last saw the bluebells blooming on the ditch of a bohreen
And all i have left are the memories of the beauty of a Duhallow May
But memories can last a whole lifetime as long as the gift of memory with us does stay

The people seen as important in my young years in their local cemeteries lay
For them like the so called under achievers there too was a last night and day
The Reaper of lives makes all equal why otherwise try to pretend
Like all other life forms us humans are mortals and all mortal lives come to an end

Where nobody cares where i came from and i am a stranger to all i do meet
And none care if i was the dunce of the class room in the Boys Primary School of Millstreet
Amongst them i will always be a stranger but this also does suit me fine
I feel happy the weather is pleasant listening to birds singing in the sunshine.

Saturday, December 27, 2014

On Boxing Day

I must be a lucky person none luckier than me
The great beauty of Nature everywhere i turn to look i see
The day is nice and sunny of only a slight breeze
That make a gentle rustling sound in the bushes and the trees
On Boxing Day in December in weather temperatures of a near perfect twenty two degrees
The dark winged swallows above the sunlit paddocks chasing flies and bees
The natural sweet aroma of new mown grass for hay
Is wafting in the breezes blowing inland from the bay
As near a place to Earthly Utopia as one could wish to be
The magpie larks in the sunshine are calling out pee wee
The white backed magpies are warbling melodious and clear
The birds who sing on all Seasons and every day of the year
The sunny sky is mostly blue with just a few clouds of gray
On the twenty sixth of December known to most as Boxing Day.

Con Tarrant

He often led the Pipers Band of Millstreet at celebrations many years ago
Till time the one that is known to rust iron eventually it did become his foe
Con Tarrant the man who was known to many has sadly lived his final night and day
The World much better for him living in it of him this does seem a fair thing for to say

A good family man honest in his dealings with others devoted to his children and Christina his late wife
Con Tarrant he was a good friend to many one who did live an honourable life
News of his passing would have caused much sadness since as a historian and writer he was known far and wide
He was one who was quite well known and famous beyond Duhallow's green old countryside

He lived in Clonmeen in Banteer in Duhallow where his passing would have had his family and friends in tears
He was one who was granted many Seasons a lot of living in eighty eight years
One of the last of the old Millstreet Pipe Band in towns and villages in Duhallow and beyond he had led them many a time
I remember him as tall and dark and handsome when i was a schoolboy he was in his prime

Such sad news out of Banteer in Duhallow the likeable Con Tarrant has passed away
In St Fursey's Cemetery at rest forever but his spirit will be where the Millstreet Pipers play
The World was better for him living in it hope his parting from life was a painless release
For all of us there will be a last tomorrow and may the good man Con now rest in peace.

Friday, December 26, 2014

Mushera Christmas Day Climbers

No matter what the weather every Christmas Day
Hardy people from Aubane and surrounds to the cross on Mushera's summit climb their way
At a time of year in Mushera that can be windy, wet and cold
For to take on such a mission one would have to be quite bold

For a charitable cause on Christmas Day they do climb Mushera in frost, rain, wind or snow
They are weather hardened people by the Boggeraghs this much of them i do know
A group of males and females the young and ageing and those in their lives prime
Some of them would have climbed Mushera over the years many a time

Up through the knee high bracken that in Winter is seldom dry
A daunting task for one of my age that i may not be brave enough to try
They climb up on the high ground money for charity for to raise
For this the Mushera Christmas Day climbers are worthy of some praise

Where the cold winds of the Boggeraghs blow with a wintery chill
The mildest Winter day a cold one on Mushera's windswept hill
Mountain climbing in the depths of Winter seems a daunting task to face
But they make them tough by Mushera they are a hardy race

To their worthy charitable causes they do remain ever true
And to undertake such a task on Christmas Day some credit they are due
I cannot say i envy them i feel a lucky man
To lay here in the sunshine improving my suntan.

Christmas Day In Illowa

Christmas Day in Illowa five kilometres from Koroit Town
Some of the paddocks of late mown for hay are looking a pale brown
The warm air is full of the buzzings of bush flies and nectar gathering bees
And the cattle from the sun's heat shelter in the cool shade of the trees
On the potato fields of Illowa not a human being in sight
The dark earth drills moist from the watering of the huge irrigators overnight
The potato seed have only been sown recently and the first stalks yet to appear
In Illowa of the Moyne Shire a week from the New Year
On Christmas Day old Illowa is a very quiet place
On the padocks i see bird and sheep and cattle but not a human face
The farmers with their families after Christmas dinner relax with a beer
On a work free day from the cares of life to enjoy the festive cheer
Christmas Day in Illowa not a human being in sight
And the bush flies and bees are buzzing in the warmth of the sunlight.

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Which Does Seem A Bit Sad

The very worst of people were innocent babies one day
But on their lives journeys they have lost their way
A warped sense of values caused them to turn to crime
And they pay for their unlawful actions on serving prison time
it is true indeed that in many of the criminally inclined
That some good if you search for it that you will find
Some of the worst of people are not all that bad
They just strayed off of the path of honesty which does seem a bit sad
Not all criminals in their younger years as criminals remain
They return to living in the honest way again
Some people do learn from mistakes of the past
And changes in their thinking on life happens fast
Every criminal in the World is not all bad
They have strayed on the life's journey off of the right road which does seem a bit sad.

Religion Cannot Make You A Good Person

Religion cannot make you a good person but it surely can make a good person great
But it is sad to know that in the name of religion some bad things have been happening of late
Such as kidnapping, mass murders and beheadings by criminal fundamentalists religious only in name
They are an insult on the name of holy and on religion they only do bring shame
Those true to their religious beliefs are good people they never harm anyone in any way
Of those of different beliefs and thinking to them respect for what they believe in they do pay
They are always helping those in need of helping and the goodness in all others only see
Truly devout people never harm others they are a credit to humanity
They do not dismiss those different to them as bad people and they love helping those of helping in need
People true to their religion are great people and for their future good Karma they plant the good seed
Those who murder for their god are not religious their god their sort i am sure does disown
In the Human World they are scorned as pariahs for crimes against humanity they are known
Religion does not make you a good person but religion can make a good person great
But it is sad to know that in the name of religion some bad things have been happening of late.

Wednesday, December 24, 2014

As Rare As Hen's Teeth

On the power of posivite thinking positive thinkers may believe
But perfection in life is near impossible to achieve
And a perfect person i have yet to meet
It is said they are rare even rare as hen's teeth
And within a hen's beak teeth cannot grow
This is something that everybody would or should know
For even the best of human beings to be flawed is of natural law
It is human indeed to be born with some flaw
Though some more flawed than others happens to be so
Those who by fraud and deception for themselves create many a foe
The ways of deception in life they pursue
To their higher selves they can never be true
The perfect human being i have yet to meet
It is said they are rare as rare as hen's teeth.

At Stingray Bay

Low clouds over the Warrnambool Breakwater
The sky is looking overcast and gray
The moored boats sitting still in the calm waters
On this December evening on Stingray Bay

In early Summer the weather is quite humid
Though the sun it has not been out today
In it's full glory it has not been sighted
Behind the pregnant rain clouds hidden away

Though in the Stingray car park it is very peaceful
The weather temperatures of a humid twenty five degrees
In the waters of the bay scarce any movement
For to make waves there is not any breeze

On the sea side pathways people out walking, cycling and jogging
Whilst others with rod and line fish on the Breakwater wall
Such beautiful mental images for to remember
In years from now for the memory to recall

A December evening in Warrnambool south west Victoria's coastal City
By the calm waters of old Stingray Bay
The weather is humid and behind the heavy cloud cover
The lamp of the sun it is hidden away.

Tuesday, December 23, 2014

You Can Make The World Better To Live In

Though you may not feel so you can make the World better to live in there is not any doubt that you can
By trying to live as a better person a far better woman or man
By showing some compassion for others and helping one of helping in need
Expect for yourself some good Karma if for such you have planted the seed

That you can make the World better to live in is only saying what is obviously true
How you choose for to treat other people is something that is up to you
If you are self centred and uncaring of others and never help anyone in any way
Then the Human World worse for you in it to me of you this is a fair thing to say

You can make the World better to live in by for others showing some empathy
It is a great strength not a weakness to for those doing it tough feel sympathy
Since sympathy does lead to acts of kindness and of kind people the World is in need of many more
With the increasing human population now more so than ever before

You can make the World better to live in by doing your good deed of the day
For the making of a kinder Human World to live in we all have our own part to play
The Human World would be better to live in if everyone to others were kind
But sad to say too many people do not seem to be this way inclined.

That Life Choices Are Not For Everybody

For many survival is a great battle that has to be fought every day
Success is something they only wish for though from them it does seem far away
They know about life on the tough side and they know how it feels to sleep rough at night
They have known of homelessness from a young age and of their worries an end not in sight

That life choices are not for everybody does seem quite a fair thing to say
Not for the children of poverty stricken parents who are born to life every day
Many of them homeless and hungry at a young age without a forwarding address
To survive in their harsh environment to them is a form of success

That life choices are not for everybody does only happen to be true
Though everyone deserves a fair go to all people this should be their due
But most of those born into disadvantage of a fair go in life never know
Whilst the gap between the wealthy and the poor with each new day does seem to grow

There are no such a thing as life choices for the poor souls of poverty street
Where many are homeless and unemployed a millionaire you may not meet
And where many do die at a young age and so few do live to grow old
And from where most of the young are unemployed few stories of success to be told.

Monday, December 22, 2014

It Is Said About True Poets

It is said about true poets that they are only few
But the truth in the matter is this is nothing new
Though many refer to themselves as a poet
Few seen to be worthy of literary note
Since i am one who does not have a literary degree
Of what is good or poor writing ask one other than me
Mine is just one opinion this i will not deny
Judge and you will be judged to me too does apply
It is true that so few ever make writing pay
And on who or who is not a good writer the literary critics have their say
It is said that poets are born and cannot be made
But everyone is needed in the wordsmith trade
And though many refer to themselves as poets true poets are rare
Am i telling you something of which you are of already aware?

Billy Cronin

This teenager Billy Cronin is one i have heard of but may never meet
In sports nowadays he is the talk of Millstreet
He is mentioned as a future Olympic athlete
Against the best in Ireland with success he compete

He has proven himself against his Nation's best
And as of yet has not been found to be wanting when put to the test
One who has brought honour to the red of Cork and to Millstreet's green
And the very best of him is yet to be seen

A nice photo and a nice story to go with it Sean Radley on him had to tell
In sports so good to learn of one from Millstreet doing so well
A Club that has produced great athletes of the past
By all accounts young Billy can run quite fast

The cream to the top rise as some like to say
More honours are likely to come Billy's way
His athletic record thus far of his capabilities does not leave anyone in doubt
And his is a good story for to read about

As a young athlete to all he has made it quite clear
That of more of him in the future we are bound for to hear
He will win further honours in twenty fifteen
For Cork in the red and Millstreet in the green.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

From The Pain Of A Woman

From the pain of a woman our life's journey began
A journey that lasts on an average of a seven decade span
That takes us from the youthful to the fading years
Of joy and of laughter and of sorrow and tears
Immortality for human kind is surely a lie
Since we are born as mortals and all mortals do die
The Reaper of lives treats all lives as the same
The one who does not respect money and fame
A decade of years in our physical prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
Like all other life forms from the great to the small
We are born as mortals and death is for all
Eventually we come to the final day
This is how it is since life is this way.

Such Is Human Nature

The people of many friends too do have foes
This is part of living one has to suppose
You win some and lose some since life is this way
And your enemy of the future may be your friend of today
It is an old saying you cannot please everyone
And those who try hard to please often end up on pleasing none
One does have to wonder why this should be
Such is human Nature it does seem to me
Since hope to the future of humanity they do bring
Of the kind and compassionate the praises i sing
By helping the people of helping in need
For good Karma for themselves they plant the good seed
And though those open to learning do learn from the past
It is true that few friendships a lifetime does last.

Saturday, December 20, 2014

In Many Decades From Today

In many decades from today there will be wealthy and poor the same as there is now
And royalists to monarchs in reverence will bow
And wars will be fought and battles lost and won
And the war bereaved mother will grieve for her dead son
And due to climate change famines in the World will be widespread
For many of the future generations some tough times ahead
And the praises of wealthy celebrities their admirers will sing
Social changes in many ways the future will not bring
For inequality between people is bound to remain
And somebody's loss will be another's gain
But in the World there will be far more people than there is today
At least anyhow it is looking this way
And due to the destruction of natural habitat and Climate Change fewer songbirds in the World for to sing
They will be quite rare the feathered minstrels of Spring
Though some things of course will remain as the same
There will always be the lust for money and fame.

Who Cares

The years have left me looking weary and gray
And who cares about a migrant from here far away
Or if i was the dunce of the primary school
Thousands of kilometres by sky north of Warrnambool
Addicted to rhyming and my best years long gone
But true to my hobby i keep rhyming on
A rhymer since i was twenty seven and in my life's prime
But this is going back some four decades in time
Well into my sixties old age of me ahead
But i want to live on since i will be forever dead
For me too there will be a last night and day
Since we are born as mortals and life is this way
Though i hope to live on for as long as i can
And die without pain as a very old man.

Friday, December 19, 2014

One Like Conor Hartnett

One like Conor Hartnett makes one feel proud to be from Millstreet
In Rio in Brazil he helps out the poor souls of poverty street
In distance from the Clara road thousands of sky kilometres away
The best of Duhallow of him one can say

All of the money he saves working for the Westpac Bank in Sydney Australia on helping Rio's homeless he does spend
To poor people Conor Hartnett is a true friend
For his selfless ways great credit he is due
Yet seemingly unassuming and to his higher self he is true

One i do know of but never may meet
On radio he seems so humble and free of conceit
His mum must be proud of him as would his late dad Noel were he living today
But the Reaper claimed his life early which does seem sad to say

People like Conor Hartnett are great people indeed
They devote their lives in the helping of people who of helping are in need
If everyone were like him there would not be wars in the World or homelessness or poverty
And so much happier and better off all of humanity would be

Those who are compassionate and caring in life seldom know of renown
But Conor has been doing some great work far south of Millstreet Town
Of the praises of his sort of person we ought to sing loud
And to know he is from Millstreet makes me feel so proud.

He Know How It Feels

He will never be seen to be a success of the town
And he know how it feels to be financially down
And he knows how it feels like to live rough on the street
Though life's every challenge head on he does meet

In his early twenties near the prime of his life
Without any children or partner or wife
But he is one who does know of inner strife
And in his poor existence money worries are rife

Out of work and homeless yet hope from him not gone
With his battles in life he does carry on
In hopes of better times of him ahead he does keep faith
There may be truth in the saying all good things come to those who do wait

Young people like he is to be found everywhere
Many millions more in the big World out there
They need not go to fight in a war far away
They have their own battles of survival every day.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Of Old Claraghatlea

Of old Claraghatlea where i spent my best years
Only good memories remain for it i have shed all of my tears
where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways remains a source of joy
In the fields of the brown hares where the rank rushes grow
A little of Nature's ways i got to know
But going back the Seasons this is long ago
And since time that rusts iron has become my foe
But fond memories of the old fields with me does remain
And in my flights of fancy i visit them again
When in Spring the dark brown water birds of breasts white as snow
The dippers are singing where Finnow waters flow
In old Claraghatlea from here far away
Where i first did look on the bright lamp of day.

John Kelleher

When i last met him he was with Billy Connors of Newmarket at the Young and Jackson Pub twenty seven years ago
In Swanston Street in Melbourne spent an hour with them or so
The tall, young and handsome John Kelleher fresh out of Millstreet Town
He was a long way from Murphy's Terrace by the Yarra deep and brown

His services much in demand in Melbourne then since he was a plasterer by trade
One who worked hard for his living though good money he was paid
He was such a nice person and kind in his own way
And so sad to learn at a young age he has lived his final day

In the Town of Millstreet when he was a young lad
He was one often seen with his siblings and his mum and his dad
People like he was are never lost to memory
But for his nearest and dearest and his many friends how sad his passing must be

In Murphy's Terrace in Millstreet his life's journey began
And there from a boy he grew into a man
For awhile from his home he went to live elsewhere
And to experience life in the big World out there

But the power of nostalgia in him was quite strong
And he returned to live in the Town in view of Clara to where he belong
And though in Millstreet in the flesh never to be seen again
In his family and friends good memories of John their lifetimes will remain.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

Do Not Go To Plan

It is true that every good woman deserves a good man
But all things in life never do go to plan
And some women who are loving good and faithful wives
Do have rather horrible men in their lives
They fell in love with the wrong sort life can be this way
And for our every mistake there is some price to pay
And as far as love goes sometimes things do go wrong when the heart rules the head
An old saying from the past though truer words never said
Some women too can be abusive and violent though than violent and abusive men far more few
To this you may say do tell us what is new
Men who are abusive to their partners and children in the World sad to say are not rare
For the victims of domestic violence feelings of sympathy one can spare
Some women do fall in love with the wrong sort of man
Suppose all things in life do not go to plan.

The House Sparrows

The house sparrows Nature's familiar chirpers in backyards small birds one does see every day
The males with brown heads, gray unders and mottled brown wings and the females of a rather drabber gray
In Spring and Summer they build nests lined with feathers of mostly bits of dry grasses and hay
Untidy looking often under house eaves where pale speckled brown eggs the females does lay
House sparrows have been introduced to many Countries near where people are they are happy for to stay
They often can be heard chirping in hedges from human buildings they are seldom far away
Perhaps they are Nature's most famous chirpers one can say of them they have ways of their own
Because they are happy to live near humans one can say of them that they are quite well known
They are not the prettiest to look at and they will never rate as birds of song
But all year round they never do stop chirping to Nature's finest chirpers they belong
I hear them every morning very early in the gray dawn before the sun does rise
They live in family groups or in small flocks but of birds i do know little i realize
House sparrows are Nature's familiar chirpers classified as songbirds though they do not have a song
Quite vocal when other birds are singing the sparrows always with them chirp along.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

One Reason I Write

To make meaning out of my life one reason i write
And email my rhymes to an internet site
For others to read though my readers are few
Amongst many writers one can say this is not new

Any gifts we possess with others we ought to share
This is something of which i am all too aware
But it is never for money that i write every day
With rhyming words i just enjoy having a play

Today a weather forecast high of a sunny twenty one degrees
And in the park by the bay just a very slight breeze
Though the hot and humid days of mid Summer are near
December in the coastal south west is usually a nice time of year

From what i began with i have seemed to stray
But sometimes in my rhymes i do lose my way
Good writers in the subject they begin with do stay
Though without bad all would be good does seem fair to say

I used to love reading rhymes as a young boy
And writing them nowadays is something i enjoy
There are addictive rhymers i am one of those
But it does take all kinds one would have to suppose.

Big Egos Are Swelling

In the Human World of more of the humble we are in need
So many of the egotistical far too many indeed
The impressionable masses the praises of the wealthy celebrities may sing
But i only admire those who do their own thing
And live in their own way and never join in the ego swelling crowd
The egos are swollen where voices are loud
In a time when those into self promotion are no longer few
The me, myself and i syndrome is something that is no longer new
Many praise those who already have known far too much praise
Our love affair with material success never ceases to amaze
Big egos are swelling where people do meet
I long for a place far from the noisy street
Where the only sounds one hear are the soughing of the breeze
And the songs of the birds on the bushes and trees.

Monday, December 15, 2014

I Must Be Addictive

I must be addictive it does seem this way
I cannot stop rhyming i pen rhymes every day
Perhaps i will be rhyming on the day i die
For to tell you any differently would be a lie
By literary critics ignored as one not worthy of note
One reason i never refer to myself as a poet
I write rhymes for enjoyment and little else more
This is something you may have heard me say before
And though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
No shortage of things for to write rhymes about
Above the brown paddocks the dark swallows fly
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunny sky
A wonder of Nature this beautiful sight
A rhyme on this i will be writing tonight.


In his prime years he plowed with clydesdale horses many decades ago
But time is catching up on the old fellow Joe
From farming to milk collection truck driving on the south west coastal countryside
In his working for a living the genial Joe has made friends far and wide
From his home in Illowa where he lives with Jenny his lovely wife
Joe is one who has led quite an interesting life
With many grandchildren he is ageing quite well
Of his life he has many good stories to tell
Of late he did have a bit of a health scare
The root cause undiagnozed which does seem quite rare
At a party without any warning from a fainting spell
He completely lost balance and on the floor he fell
He had only drunk a light beer and the fall his confidence did undermine
To go to parties though physically he is feeling fine.

Sunday, December 14, 2014

A Warm Day For December

A warm day for December well over thirty degrees
And white butterflies dancing in the coastal breeze
That rustles in the leaves of the sunlit trees
And the warm air full of the buzzings of flies and of bees
The pleasant aroma of grass mown for hay
Wafting in the breeze in the heat of the day
And though only in the second week of December in early Summer the paddocks by the town
From the dry spell of weather beginning to brown
El Nino the thirsty one of late is around
Sucking the moisture from the coastal ground
The long range weather forecast of a dry and warm Summer for the farmers not good news to hear
For them it does look like financially another tough year
And the afternoon quite warm and humid despite the strong breeze
It is not pleasant in the full sun when it is over thirty degrees.

Your Heroes

Your heroes are famous and wealthy and known Worldwide
And your feelings of admiration for them from anyone you never hide
On who you look up to with me is quite fine
But your sort of heroes will never be heroes of mine
You have your opinions with me this is okay
But we do look at life in a different way
Suppose in our ways we see things differently
Which makes us more interesting would you not agree?
In our interests we have little in common to share
But amongst human beings this is or will never be rare
The wealthy and the famous celebrities you do truly admire
And of singing their praises you never do tire
Who you wish to look up to does suit me quite fine
And this is your business and your business not mine.

Saturday, December 13, 2014

A Claraghatlea Fellow

I went to see life in the big World out there
But my memories came with me they followed me to where
The dark Merri waters flow to Warrnambool
Far south of Millstreet Town where i went to school

North of Illowa where i now live in sky kilometers far away
In Claraghatlea in Millstreet i first saw light of day
In the old fields i grew to love Nature as a very young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy

An ageing migrant from the fields of the silver back crow
Who of life and of Nature has so much to learn and know
But from the book of living i learn every day
We never stop learning as the wise one does say

In this countryside home of the grey kangaroo
And long billed corella and the yellow tailed black cockatoo
Of Nature every day i do learn something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few

My link to the past is in my memory
And in my flights of fancy the brown face of Clara i see
It was lust of the wander made a migrant of me
But a Claraghatlea fellow i always will be.

The Wizard Of Millstreet

Millstreet Town born and raised And one of Millstreet's own
And it is thanks to him that Millstreet is now widely known
As a place of entertainment in the big World out there
And for his fame and his fortune he never migrated to elsewhere

That there is power in positive thinking cannot be denied
His Green Glens entertainment arena is known Worldwide
As a venue of International show jumping,World Championship Boxing and The Eurovision Song Contest and other major events too numerous to name
Noel C Duggan's big dream has brought him Worldwide fame

In his Green Glens Arena he achieved something great
His successes in life we ought to celebrate
Into his eight decade his physical prime in the long gone
But decades after he dies his legend will live on

To the legends of Duhallow Noel C Duggan belong
He named the Green Glens Arena from 'The Green Glens Of Antrim' of his a favourite song
Many newspaper articles on him written and many stories of him told
It does seem everything that he touches does turn to gold

The Green Glens Arena quite amazing to see
Of the Wizard Of Millstreet the one and only Noel C
The fame and the glory are only the due
Of the man who dreamed big and saw his dream come true.

Friday, December 12, 2014

On Australian Magpies

The flute like notes always so pleasant to hear
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
In Summer and Autumn and Winter and Spring
The mood every day is in them for to sing
To the piping shrike family they do belong
And are amongst Australia's finest birds of song
They live in towns and town parks and in the countryside
The black and white Australian magpies are known far and wide
In their breeding Season from mid Winter they often sing at night
Their musical warbling a thing of delight
Familiar black and white crow sized birds to many well known
One can say of them they have ways of their own
In family groups territorial and aggressive of them one can say
The birds known to many do sing night and day.

Elizabeth Moore

The last remains is in St Mary's in Millstreet of Elizabeth Moore
But without her Liscreagh as a place far more poor
Where she lived as a child and spent her fading years
By family and friends one farewelled in tears

The lovely Elizabeth has lived her last Fall
But having this said death does come to us all
She will not be around to see in the New Year
The bell that farewells us we never do hear

To her daughters Kathryn and Rita a good mother and to the late John Moore a good wife
Liscreagh's oldest person did live a long life
A beautiful young mother when i was a boy
Fond memories of her i retain as a joy

In Millstreet in the flesh never to be seen again
But good memories of her in all who knew her are bound to remain
In Liscreagh she was born in and in Liscreagh she grew old
In her prime years she was a dark haired beauty to behold

Above Cashman's Hill are low rain clouds of gray
And it is cold in St Mary's on this December day
Where Elizabeth Moore is forever at peace
One can only hope that her parting from life was a painless release.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

It Has Always Been

It has always been and will always remain
What is one person's loss is another one's gain
Though many with such thinking may not agree
At least anyhow this is how it seems to me
For every millionaire there are many in dire poverty
In the Human World this is how it is and it always will be
Success stories rare in the poor side of town
Where many know of how it feels like to be financially down
Whilst millions of poor people to hopes of a better tomorrow do cling
Of the praises of wealthy celebrities the impressionable masses do sing
Though the Reaper of lives does not respect money and fame
And the rich and the poor does treat as the same
But amongst the living one person's loss is another one's gain
This is how it is and it will always remain.

A December Day Near Warrnambool

The weather gusty and cool behind clouds of gray
The sun has been hiding for most of the day
But for December it is pleasantly cool
In the coastal countryside of the Moyne Shire close to Warrnambool
The twittering songs of the goldfinches pleasant to hear
Their nesting time in late Spring till mid Summer every year
And in voices familiar and melodious and clear
The songs of the blackbirds always pleasant to hear
The pleasant aroma of grass mown for hay
Is wafting in the breeze of a December day
And the flute like notes of the magpies one could never get wrong
The black and white raven sized minstrels of song
And the magpie larks sing their familiar pee wee
Where the beauty of Nature is all around me.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014

Batchelor Joe

His name may never be seen on a memorial wall
But of gifts he possesses the greatest of all
And this is compassion his sort are so rare
Of the needs and feelings of others he is always aware
In his mid seventies the likeable, kind and caring Batchelor Joe
Is showing his age time has become his foe
Anne the woman he loved forty five years ago in a motoring accident died
By a cruel stroke of fate of his soulmate he was denied
The only love in his life she was loving, caring and kind
One soulmate in his lifetime any man is lucky to find
At a young age the Reaper of lives from him took the love of his life
The beautiful woman who was to become his wife
And Joe in his seventies performs kind acts every day
By helping those in need of helping just for love not for pay.

Some Cows Too Born To Be Lucky

To say physically no less a mortal than a monarch would not be a lie
Though she does not realize that she was born to die
She lay out of the warm sun chewing her cud in the shade of a cypress tree
She looks far more contented than miserable me
On young grass far more nutritious than silage or hay
Quite happy in her life gaining weight by the day
The lone old red hereford cow in a fenced two acres with a few cypress trees
To shelter by from the sun and the rain and the often gusty breeze
That blow from the ocean through the flat coastal countryside
That some cows like some humans are born to be lucky cannot be denied
Too old for to breed calves a seven year old girl's pet
Who happens to be the only child of the local vet
In the shade of a cypress chewing her cud she does lay
Some cows too born to be lucky it does seem this way.

Monday, December 8, 2014

At The Warrnambool Breakwater

At the Warrnambool Breakwater at Stingray Bay
Though windy quite sunny a pleasant enough day
For early December and early Summer often a nice time of year
Though January the warmest and most humid of the Season with each day draws near
On the bitumen and boarded pathways by the Breakwater walkers, joggers and cyclists exercising at a leisurely pace
For recreational enjoyment in Warrnambool this a favorite place
Whilst some boats are moored in the quiet waters of Stingray Bay
Some launch their boats from the Warrnambool ramp to fish in deep waters every day
Whilst some like to walk the length of the Breakwater Wall
In this part of Warrnambool enjoyment for all
Ages of people the old and the young
In song and in story the praises of the Breakwater sung
At the Warrnambool Breakwater at Stingray Bay
Though the weather quite windy it is a nice day.

I Am A Flawed Person

Praise is a thing that does not suit me well
Since i can be egotistical and such egos are not hard to swell
And as for criticism i do not like it at all
I am a flawed person and in some of my ways quite small
Yes i do have my flaws but my flaws are my own
Though the perfect person i have never known
I know many good people though any of them not without some flaw
To be flawed it would seem is part of Natural Law
We are what we are this is all we can be
And we all have our good and not so good traits would you not agree?
I am better off not successful since success can bring with it conceit
And the conceited are many and every day them i do meet
Praise and criticism does not suit me at all
Since i am a flawed person and in some of my ways quite small.

Sunday, December 7, 2014

The Beauty Of Illowa

Out there so much of Nature's beauty for to see
The beauty of Illowa all around me
The quiet countryside beyond where the roadways do meet
Though not a long drive from the nearest town street

Though Illowa could do with many more trees
For birds and animals for shelter from the sun, rain and often gusty breeze
That blow through the coastal countryside from the Pacific shore
Like all of rural Australia of trees Illowa needs more

In the countryside between Warrnambool and Koroit Town
On the Southern Cross road cars and trucks buzz up and down
But apart from this where Nature is wearing a green and brown face
The countryside of Illowa is quite a beautiful place

Of singing the praises of the beauty of Illowa how could one ever tire
A Nature's gem in the crown of the coastal Moyne Shire
On this December day the larks o'er the paddocks like musical specks in the sky
Are singing quite beautifully as upwards they do fly.

My Life Is A Shambles

My life is a shambles why otherwise pretend
But i will battle on till my journey will end
On some day or night when or where that will be
The Reaper of Lives has a date set for me
Anything i does touch does not turn to gold
In sixty eight years of living i have not grown financially well off i have only grown old
This rhyming for me a hungry belly game
It has not added cash or esteem to my name
For my lack of success only myself to blame
And my candle of hope now a flickering flame
I have come to realize though quite important money is not everything
And the joybells in my mind sometimes even ring
I now wish to be healthy and contented and live for as long as i can
And die in my sleep without pain as a very old man.

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Have You Ever Felt That

Have you ever felt that life is not on your side
Since by lady luck you have been often denied
Though you wish to be wealthy and know of great fame
And in the big World your's known to many as a legendary name
And life for you has not been any good of late
Your ex partner she has dumped you and another she does date
And since you feel that you have nothing to feel positive about
Your worth as a person you so often do doubt
In a Human World where for a minority for to win the majority must lose
Not everyone can have from life what they do choose
For winners there have to be losers life works in this way
This is how it has always been and is how it will always stay
But hope springs eternal as the wise one does say
And tomorrow for you might be a better day.

When I Hear A Blackbird Singing

When i hear a blackbird singing it takes me far away
To the green groves of Duhallow in the prime of Spring in May
When the snowdrops, primroses and bluebells are on the ditch of the bohreen
And Nature's flowers in abundance in the old fields to be seen
And the cattle out of farmyard sheds from months of eating silage and hay
On the nutritious young grass are gaining weight by the day
And the hawthorns cloaked in fragile blooms of palish white to gray
The past may be gone forever but the memories of it till death does stay
And as long as the gift of memory is your's for to retain
The mental images of the past till death with you will remain
Though time brings with it changes and few things seem to last
Our marvellous gift of memory our only link to the past
When i hear a blackbird singing in the gloam after sundown
In my thoughts the birds are singing in a grove by Millstreet Town.

Friday, December 5, 2014

The Man Who Bought Bill Pad's Mountain

The man who bought Bill Pad's Mountain has physically known a better day
But that his life achievements will outlive him of him only fair to say
From a mostly bracken clad wilderness he created Millstreet Country Park
One can say of Jerry Sheehan in life he has made his mark

The man who bought Bill Pad's Mountain is showing his years in gray
One who has proved that where there is the will there always is a way
He is one in his own lifetime who has seen his dream come true
For this he deserves great credit since credit is his due

The man who bought Bill Pad's Mountain is one i may never meet
He has created wonders in the hills above Millstreet
He is one i only know of but that i may never get to know
In Millstreet Country Park he has created his own legend and his legend grow and grow

Many wealthy people take from Nature but to Nature he does give
The man who bought Bill Pad's Mountain his life achievements him will outlive
His mother and his father in him did raise a great son
The respect and admiration of many he deservedly has won.

Such A Good Man

His mum and dad in him did raise a good son
An honorable fellow he never harmed anyone
Perhaps the most selfless young man of the town
Though that in itself not a claim to renown
Since selfless people in a mostly self centered Human World many do not impress
And to be compassionate and caring is not a recipe for success
Yet better than he was would be quite hard to find
To his aged and frail neighbor widow he was caring and kind
In the twilight of her existence she is ninety four years
And whenever she talks of him she is always close to tears
He died in a workplace accident he was only twenty three
Their only child for his mum and dad how sad this has to be
He did not father children or he did not have a wife
And so sad to think such a good man was only granted a short life.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

I Have Been Penning Stuff

I have been penning stuff since my physical prime
And this is going back more than four decades in time
It is not hard to rhyme as easy as can be
And every day new rhymes keep coming to me
When i was years younger and my hair was dark brown
I penned my first rhymes west of Millstreet Town
In the Fall of the year in nineteen seventy three
One reason perhaps i know of poverty
Addicted to the penning of rhyming stuff
For longer than most have i have been a rhyming buff
The rhymes keep on coming to me every day
Even if i tried to rhyming i could not give away
In Claraghatlea just west of old Millstreet Town
I penned my first rhymes when my hair was dark brown.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Bruce And Sam

A former President of the Koroit Lions one known for his kindness of heart
Bruce Lowenthal one in a million for good causes he plays his part
One always willing to help poor people for his acts of kindness he is known
Amongst the good people of the Moyne Shire he is in a class of his own
In his truck his mate Sam is always with him a white dog of the west highland breed
To his master he is quite faithful in him Bruce has a true friend indeed
Wherever you see Bruce you know that Sam from him is not far away
Your dog will remain as your true friend till his or her's last night and day
The kindest man in old Port Fairy is Bruce Lowenthal's sole claim to fame
For his compassion and acts of kindness he has made for himself a name
Of late he did have a health scare but now he is feeling okay
The man known for helping people who performs good deeds every day
Wherever Bruce is Sam is with him his loyal and ever trusting friend
How sad indeed it will be for Bruce when Sam's life will come to an end.

I Went To See Life

I went to see life in the big World out there
To join in the swollen ranks of the those from elsewhere
But since the biological clock it has become my foe
And i am no better off now than i was years ago

For my lack of success i only have myself to blame
Though it feels heartening to me that i will not die in shame
And though the thought of death is a thing i do fear
Of any wrongdoing to others my conscience is clear

Of the home of the badger and brown river trout
My journey in life has taken me far south
To the place of the black wallaby, emu, koala and grey kangaroo
And the white long billed corella and the yellow tailed black cockatoo

Yet i envy the stay at home people and their strong sense of place
In familiar surroundings every challenge in life they do face
Quite happy to live where they are well known
The individuals referred to as one of our own

My journey in life has me far away
From where i first looked on the bright lamp of day
Where old Clara Mountain does ever look down
On the green countryside just west of Millstreet Town.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

The Happy Go Lucky

The strangers to you who smile at you and bid you a good day
For a happier World to live in their own part does play
Wherever such people are joy does abound
They carry it with them and spread it around
The happy go lucky are free of conceit
And such people are always a joy for to meet
New friends every day they always seem to win
They do make the World better to live in
The one you say hello to and to you does not reply
May be conceited or may be shy
Of such a person it would be fair to say
That he or she never brings joy to your day
A smile and a friendly hello does not cost you a thing
And joy to someone's day it is likely to bring.

Our Own Reality

Some tell us in life we create our own reality
That this does have some truth in it one must agree
Though circumstance of birth in one's future has some part to play
For the one born of poor parents life's a struggle every day
Few success stories in life from the poor side of the town
Where most know how it feels to be financially down
Where many are homeless and few own a car
From Poverty Street success does seem quite far
Only to the children of well to do parents life choices apply
That they have the chance to create their own reality none ought to deny
In life we create our own reality make of this what you may
In a World where survival for many is a struggle every day.

Monday, December 1, 2014

Those Who Criticize Me

Those who criticize me though i may not like of what me they do say
As people are far more helpful to me in a way
Than those who are willing my praises to sing
Since from them about myself i never do learn anything
It is nice to be praised as most would agree
As most of us like to be liked is how it seems to be
But as the wise one does say and truer words never said
Praise to the praised one has been known to go to the head
The one who points out my flaws to me i may not value as a friend
For truthful words at times are known for to offend
But if to the words of your critic you do pay heed
You will improve as a person since of constructive criticism we are all in need
The one who criticizes me my feelings may offend
Though than to the one who sings my praises he or she may be a better friend.

Since I Left Claraghatlea

Since i left Claraghatlea west of Millstreet Town
Old Finnow has often been in flood waters of brown
For this is going back twenty eight years in time
And the babies then are now in their lives prime

And since from there i have been many seasons away
To many i would be a stranger in Millstreet today
Who is that old stranger some of them might say
He does look so time worn and fragile and gray

When the cold winds of December from the Boggeraghs did blow
And old Clara was wearing his white hat of snow
And Finnow flowed bank high in flood waters of brown
I left the countryside west of Millstreet Town

In Koroit in south west Victoria near the City of Warrnambool
Far south of the Town of where i went to school
It is warm today in the coastal Moyne Shire
In a land that in Summer is subject to fire

With a temperature high of a warm and humid thirty degrees
There is little relief from the heat even in the freshening coastal breeze
That blows in Koroit from the Pacific shore
On a car journey from the nearest beach of ten minutes no more

Far north in Duhallow from here far away
It is windy and cold by the Boggeraghs today
Where in the farmyard sheds in the dawning gray
The cattle are bellowing for silage or hay