Tuesday, January 31, 2017

Old Nothing To Say

A very old fellow who does not dress well
But he has his own life experiences that to anyone he does not tell
Of the war that he fought in from here far away
Long before you or i first saw the light of day

Well into his nineties without children or wife
He is one who has lived a very long life
He always dresses informal with him appearance don't lie
I have yet to see him in a collar and tie

Though locally by sight to many he is known
He does not have friends he is always on his own
Time has left him bare headed and wrinkled and gray
The one known to many as Old Nothing To Say

On his war medals for bravery he does not feel pride
He survived the killing fields where many died
Yet he lives by his feelings one not to pretend
The street war parades he does never attend

Of his life's adventures he does not wish to talk about
For years his war memories from his mind he has tried to block out
Though in battle he was one who had proved himself quite brave
His guilt at being a war survivor he will take to his grave

A tribeless old fellow yet nobody's fool
In the pub drinking beer he sits on a stool
Where young males in small groups discuss their topics of the day
He sits there in silence with nothing to say.

What Is Amazing To One

What is amazing to one to another may seem ordinary
Since from different eyes a different World we do see
Diverse thinking has it's place in humanity
This is how it is and it always will be
Many will tell you in our thinking success or failure for ourselves we create
But then not everyone can become famous and great
I know of many people who think in a positive way
Who are not among the wealthy materially successful of today
Yet there is truth in the saying would you not agree
That you only can live to be the best you can be
And though the praises of the wealthy and famous many like to sing
Success in itself as is said can be a relative thing
And what is great to you may not be so to me
As we are individuals and we think differently.

Bill Di Blasio

Of their Mayor Bill Di Blasio most New Yorker's feel proud
By the might of the Trump Government he refuses to be cowed
He says against racial profiling New Yorkers will take a stand
In this the greatest City of a great Land

Of his love of freedom he leaves no room for doubt
Against the oppression of the innocent he is one who speaks out
He vows change of National Governement will not bring any change to New York at all
As united we must stand for if divided we will fall

A fair go for all one of the mottoes of New York's Mayor Bill
There is always a way to succeed if there is the will
Of his sort the Human World of many more is in need
Those into racial profiling of division only plant the seed

Physically quite a big man and big in his ways as well
The message of hope in his words he does sell
That racism only cause division and no need to explain
Why a loss of rights to one race is not to humanity's gain

Of the torch of freedom and justice he helps to fan the flame
The great Mayor of New York Bill Di Blasio is his name
He stands for the equality of people and race
And the better side of humanity he does embrace.

Monday, January 30, 2017

You Should Feel Proud

For to meet your very equal one would need to travel far
You should feel proud of the very good person you are
Those in need of helping you do help every day
And to perform your acts of kindness you often go out of your way
Yet you are so humble and free of conceit
And one as good and kind as you are would be hard to meet
So quiet in your ways one who never speaks loud
But your father and mother of you must feel proud
You are one who would never see anyone down
Yet sad to think your sort never become one of the admired of the town
Yet it is not for money or praise that you help those of your help in need
And every day do plant karma's good seed
And surely the very best thing about you
Is that you never tell others of the good things that you do.

Happy For To Be Counted Out

Patriotism to many is worth far more than a brag
Those who do wave their pride in their national flag
But if this is what patriotism is all about
Then of such i am happy for to be counted out
For flag waving is not part of love of Country for me
I only enjoy Nature's beauty i do see
Everywhere around me in my walks every day
Suppose i am not one who loves Country in a patriotic way
But then it is each to their own as the wise one does say
It is mostly to Nature that respect i do pay
The one whose wonders are many and her secrets not few
Of her every day i do learn something new
And if flag waving as a show of patriotism is what love of Country is about
Then i am one of those who must be counted out.

At The Moyneyana Festival

For music and song in Worldwide renown
Port Fairy of the Moyne Shire the coastal Festival Town
On stage in Fiddlers Green on this sunny January Sunday
For the fans of country music a country band sing and play

In the blue sunny sky not even one cloud of gray
In Port Fairy in Summer it is often this way
Open air entertainment free to listen to of music and song
With balmy sunny weather goes nicely along

And the sweet sound of laughter so pleasant to hear
Today Port Fairy the Festival Town To earthly utopia seems near
And the Nature strips of the Town green after recent rain
With such pleasant weather how could one complain?

The music and song in Fiddlers Green to listen to is free
At the Moyneyana Festival in the warmth of January
In south western Victoria's widely known Festival Town
Port Fairy of the coastal Moyne Shire a gem in the crown.

Sunday, January 29, 2017

Far South Of The Fields

Far south of the fields just west of the Town of Millstreet
In the green countryside where the waterways meet
In view of the Boggeraghs from here far away
Of life i may well live my last night and day

On a sunlit gum tree it is pleasant to hear
Birds that do sing every day of the year
The black and white Australian magpies with the warbling flute like song
Once seen and once heard one never again should get wrong

Far south of the stream of of the dark brown dipper of breast white as snow
And the fields of the badger, the rook and the silver backed crow
The years have left me looking older and gray
I am one who has known of a far better day

The old fields i may never walk on again
And of the past only memories with me does remain
At the stroke of midnight the past will be today
And the now is all that does matter as the wise one does say

We can only live in the now with memories of the past
And the clocks on our lives ever ticking on fast
Time has left me old in this Land far south
Of the fields of the fawn hare and the waterways of the brown trout.

If You Are feeling Sad

If you are feeling sad few wish to know of you
Laugh and the World laughs with you remains ever true
Few do wish to know of those who are feeling down
They do not have many friends the sad sacks of the town
The happy person is the one that everyone wishes to know
Since he or she does have the bright inner glow
Wherever happy people are joy is to be found
As they carry it with them and share it around
At parties and social gatherings the sad one does seem out of place
You do not win any friends with a sad look on your face
The one with the broad smile wins friends every day
That happiness is infectious it does seem this way
You are on your own when you are feeling down
Few wish to know of the sad sacks of the town.

In Ralph Illidge Sanctuary

In Ralph Illidge Sanctuary on this sunny January day
Utopia from here it is not far away
A beautiful Summer evening with just a slight breeze
The wood birds are singing high on the gum trees
From where i stand on a manna gum somewhere nearby
A male koala in loud grunts utters his territorial cry
A message his neighbor male koalas cannot help but hear
One reason of his borders that they stay well clear
A voice of the woodland that one cannot get wrong
The gray and brown bird of the unmistakable song
The whistling song the gray shrike thrush does sing
To listen to is such a beautiful thing
In Ralph Illidge Sanctuary on a beautiful day
Utopia from here cannot be far away.

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Though Not Every Day

I do see her often though not every day
The little old lady of hair silver gray
She greets everyone with a smile on her face
So charming in her way and aging with grace
She greets me a stranger as if i were an old friend
Only wish that some of her charm to me she could lend
The words tall, young and beautiful looking to her may not apply
But she is such a nice person without even needing to try
Her praises i only feel happy to sing
Since joy to my day she never fails for to bring
She is one i see often and only can profess to know
That she is one possessed of the inner glow
I do see her often and in truth i can say
That she never does fail to bring joy to my day.

He Called Me Sir Twice

He made me feel important when he called me sir twice
Of the title of respect i did feel how nice
I must admit i enjoyed my ten seconds of fame
But later when i thought about it i realized sir is not my name
Sir is a royal title as is a duke, count or knight
And for someone like me it just does not seem right
With my temporary title i got carried away
But that most people can be subject to flattery does seem true to say
Since i am not one of the highbrows of society
The title of sir will never be reserved for one like me
He only referred to me as sir since my name he did not know
His way to a stranger older than him some respect to show
But i did feel important when he called me sir twice
And just for a moment it did sound quite nice.


Dino will not be going back to Milan i feel content where i am he does say
Why should i return to a City where i would be a stranger today
My brother and sister now deceased in Milan their last remains lay
Not been back since i left sixty five years ago from there i have been so long away

A widowed octogenarian great granddad the years have left him bald and gray
In Warrnambool by the Pacific where he feels content he will stay
Where he will look on his last sunset a last night and day for us all
For everyone of us there is a last Winter a last Spring and Summer and Fall

In Lake Pertobe Park i often see him walking with his brown and white jack russell terrier Joe
A dog he got at the dog pound as a puppy going back in time two years ago
He is well known and well liked in Warrnambool the man who does not have a foe
He is quite an amiable person to everyone he says hello

Dino will not be going back to Milan where he was born and attended primary school
He is happy in south west Victoria in the coastal City of Warrnambool
With his dog Joe in Lake Pertobe Park he like to go walking when the sun is in the southern sky
And the dark welcome swallows in pursuit of flying insects above the lake chirp as they fly.

Friday, January 27, 2017

The World's Number One Super Power

In far fields i grew to love her as a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
The one who can create a beautiful flower
Was, is and will always be the the World's number one super power
The one who supports and feeds every living thing
The lovers of natural beauty her praises do sing
Her water life and land life and creatures that fly and crawl
Her Mother Earth is the one who takes care of them all
The one of four Seasons of sun, frost, wind, rain, thunder and snow
Yet so little about her we can claim to know
Though she keeps most of her secrets from us hidden away
We learn something new of her every day
To be greater than any human created power is her great claim to fame
The one known to all as Mother Nature by name.

A Faded Hero

A brave man among brave men the patriots of him did say
Ten years ago he returned as a hero from a war far away
In his honor for him a huge street parade
But sometimes hero worship has been known to fade

Estranged from his young son and daughter and their mother his beautiful wife
He is one who did make the wrong choices in life
He is one who has been on many a pub crawl
Alcohol as it has been to many it has been his downfall

One who knows of mental and physical hell
A hero of war where so many brave fell
Though still quite a young man only thirty four
For a while a hero but not anymore.

On his life's journey he has lost his way
For our every mistake in life always some price to pay
A good hearted person which makes it more sad
And it cannot be said of him that he is bad

There are not many humans without some flaw or vice
For his addiction to alcohol he has paid the price
Some who fought by his side went to an early grave
In the gap of danger he was one who was brave

Ten years ago as a war hero for him a welcome home parade
But the hero worship for him was quick to fade
One who for awhile was a hero till in life he did fail
For unlicensed and drunken driving he now is in jail.

For As Long As You

For as long as you never harm anyone in any way
And respect to the rights of all others do pay
Or in deed or in word never put anyone down
You are an asset to your side of the town
Always willing to help one of helping in need
Of the fruits of good karma you plant the good seed
And for those doing it tough you can feel sympathy
You have the great gift that's known as empathy
On a time and an age when racism is nothing new
You do not judge a whole race on the crimes of a few
Without you in the World it does seem to me
That humanity itself would far worse off be
On a fair go for all you are one who does believe
And as one who willingly give you deserve to receive.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

The Old Champion

A famous athlete of the long ago
But time as is said becomes everyone's foe
A man in his prime in the big town everyone of did know
The passing of time has left John walking slow

In his prime years as a young athlete
Against the Nation's best with success he did compete
The legendary sporting hero of many a big foot race
With his wife Ann in the park walking at a slow pace

That years do take toll on the body in truth one can say
Grandparents in their mid eighties they have known of a better day
The sports fans of the town have a new sporting hero to fete
A national champion in his mid twenties who is very quick on his feet

The old champion is now just a memory of the past
A mere shadow of the man who used to run fast
In the park walking slowly with his aged wife
And of this one only can say such is life.

I Do Envy Those

I do envy those in a sort of a way
Who in their hometown did choose for to stay
And there raise their children and grow old and gray
And never yearn to travel to Lands far away

In where they live to many their's is a known face
Those who do have in them a strong sense of place
They never yearn to live in great cities elsewhere
Home to millions of migrants in the bigger World out there

Yes i do envy them in truth i can say
Since they too could have traveled but at home choose to stay
In or near where they were born they will live their last day
And be buried in the cemetery where their ancestors lay

The stay at home people to home do belong
The love of place in them till death remain strong
Of the bug of wander they are totally free
The bigger World out there they have no wish to see

Home is the place you were born in to them not a lie
And there they will live till the day they do die
Happy for to grow old among their own
Where they are loved and respected and to most people known.

Australia Day 2017

For many in the Southern Country a day of national pride
Great celebrations taking place in towns and cities Nationwide
The national flags and the buntings being waved in a great patriotic display
By young and by old on Australia Day
But many of Australia's first people do not agree
That the date for Australia Day celebrations should be the twenty sixth of January
They claim that Australia Day should be moved to another date
A day that they too can feel happy for to celebrate
On Australia day young and old celebrate and the praises of their beloved Country do sing
And though love of and pride in Country can be a good thing
Australia's first people are quite justified
On wanting to change the Australia Day date so they too can feel some national pride
They call Australia Day Invasion Day which is only too true
And surely a change of date for the big day is overdue.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

The Winner Takes Most

The winner takes most of the plaudits and fame
And the loser by many is a forgotten name
In a Human World where many for recognition and success do compete
The down to earth sort one does not often meet
And winning is known to cause egos to swell
Mentally most people with success do not cope that well
At one time or other you would have heard said
That success has gone to her or his head
Not good for the mind the home of the soul
The ego that seems to be out of control
When many your praises in public do sing
For you it cannot be a humbling thing
The winner many do like to celebrate
And between winning and losing the difference is great.

They Will Never Unite

They will never unite those who only know how to divide
The people who are convinced that they have right on their side
Their belief on their opinions to say the least strong
If they believe they are so right then they cannot be wrong
And many of their sort are leaders in the World of today
But on divide and conquer they think in this way
The Gandhis and Mandelas of this World remain in the few
And this is not saying anything that is new
Though the praises of democracy many may sing
Majority rule for the minority cannot be a nice thing
Even in democratic societies there is an us against they
An inner circle in politics do work in this way
And as leaders the Gandhis and the Mandelas in the World are few
And this is not saying anything that is new.

Good People

A good person may never be a hero or heroine of the town
But in word or deed never puts anyone down
And to help one in need of helping go out of her or his way
Without needing recognition or money for pay
Though of them we seldom do hear of or read
It is only by good example they do wish to lead
The flaws in others good people never seek to find
They only know how to be helpful and kind
The true quiet achievers of them one can say
They find pleasure on doing their good deeds every day
Most good people never wish to be in the public eye
In fact of publicity many of them seem shy
Everyday by their kindness they sow Karma's good seed
And of more of their sort the Human World is in need.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Like The Weeds Of The Garden

Like the weeds of the garden does stifle every flower
This is what happens when people unworthy of such an honor are given great power
Of those who do not admire them their rights they transgress
They marginalize and vilify and them do oppress
Every autocratic leader by violence does rule
And to those who oppose them they are very cruel
In human history so many of their sort far too many to name
Who are only remembered for their crimes of shame
That dictators lack in human people skills is obviously clear
Their only idea of leadership is rule by fear
They only tolerate those who loyal to them remain
All of those who oppose them by them banished or slain
They are like the weeds of the garden who stifle every flower
Those who have themselves invested with absolute power.

David Gray '1838-1861'

The son of a hand loom weaver from Kirkintilloch In Dumbartonshire
Of reading his poetry i for one could not tire
Surely one of the best Scottish poets of his time
He died in his twenty third year of life in his physical prime

He lived and died poor and of him one can say
That life was not easy on the poet David Gray
Since eighteen sixty one his life's gift from him has gone
But his legacy of beauty today is living on

The works of his genius his legacy to humanity
He had written and has left a lot of good poetry for one of twenty three
He was a close friend of Robert Buchanan the great Scottish poet
And David Gray in his own right remains as one worthy of literary note

He was one with words who did have a way
And in his poems the genius lives of David Gray
But the saddest thing about him is that he died far too young
And surely his praises deserve for to be sung

One in his short life who knew of poverty
Yet one of the great poets of the nineteenth century
His genius in his poetry is living today
And says more of the man than words of him could ever say.

Young Ted

Young Ted thinks he is a gift to the town's young women but most of the town's young women do not see it this way
Since he is not handsome and charming and is quite arrogant of him one can say
Linda his latest girlfriend to have dumped him says his ego is too big for his head
He is an egotistical fellow humility in him is long dead
At twenty six years of age in the prime of his life
He does not have a partner or never had a wife
With his mates in the pub of his sexual conquests he does like to brag
For egotism he is one who does carry the flag
One of his biggest problems is when a few beers he does drink
He always seems to talk before he does think
To go with his big ego he has a big mouth
In a derogatory manner his ex girl friends he talks about
One reason local young women of him do not wish to know
The seeds of his own bad karma he does sow.

Monday, January 23, 2017

It May Not Be In Duhallow

I have lived through many a Season my life's journey's end cannot be far away
But it may not be in Duhallow that i will spend my last night and day
And i may never more see the Boggeraghs half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
Or see tadpoles their long tails wriggling in Summer in the dark pool of a drain
Or hear the nesting songbirds singing in a leafy grove of the Spring
I feel lucky to have my gift of memory to have such is a beautiful thing
I retain the beautiful image of bluebells on the ditch of a bohreen
I count it as a sort of a blessing to retain memories of Nature's beauty i have seen
Us humans are born as mortals why otherwise even pretend
And like all i am on a life's journey that for me will come to an end
in my seventy years of living life's roads i have been up and down
A journey that began in Duhallow in the countryside near Millstreet Town
And it well may not be in Duhallow that i will spend my last night and day
Of what was i only have memories and the clock on my life ticks away.

Not Everyone Can Be A Winner

Not everyone can be a winner for one to win others must lose
Though losing is something it does seem that anyone would never choose
I cannot say i know of any loser with herself or himself satisfied
It is only always the winner who does have the broad smile of pride
Without losers there would not be winners since humanity works in this way
And there are far more losers than winners in the Human World of today
But death is the great equalizer to rich or to poor not a friend
All of us on a life's journey a journey for us that must end
The longest lived human life is not that long and time becomes everyone's foe
The one slowed by the passing of the Seasons was a young person not that long ago
The praises of the wealthy and famous the impressionable masses may sing
But as is said of success and failure it can be a relative thing
The same can also be said of so called winners and losers in the Human World of today
Since most on this have an opinion and few see things in the same way.

I Am One Of Those

I am one of those out of date people for many years a rhyming buff
Of four decades and three years of rhyming i have written a whole pile of stuff
One of many unpaid internet rhymers there are plenty like me everywhere
Who are dismissed by the literary critics of the literary World out there

One who has seen three score and ten years of living my better years in the long gone
Like all other internet rhymers my love of rhyme keeps me rhyming on
Rhymers nowadays are literary outsiders few things ever do seem to last
In years from now the present literary in style may be dismissed as a thing of the past

As a boy back in the nineteen fifties i remember rhyme was a literary in thing
On Winter nights rhymes by the fireside recited and singers the old songs did sing
What was popular in the long gone decades is not a literary in thing of today
Even in literature the changes keep on happening and few things as they were do stay

Just one more internet rhymer this too can be said of me
I penned my first rhymes at twenty seven way back in nineteen seventy three
When i was younger and fitter and stronger time has left me looking older and gray
Yet i remain faithful to rhyming and with rhyme words i do love to play.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

By Becoming A Far Better You

You can make the World better to live in this is something you surely can do
By being kind and caring and compassionate and becoming a far better you
The World not better for you in it if in your climb to wealth and renown
That you have been selfish and ruthless and have been known to drag others down
So many materially very wealthy people in their ways are known to be small
They believe on a fair go for family and wealthy friends but not on a fair go for all
These people to humanity no advantage since others did lose for them to win
It is off of the mark to say their sort makes the World better to live in
You can make the World better to live in this is something you can do indeed
By becoming kinder to others and helping those of your help in need
The praises of self centered celebrities the impressionable masses may sing
Though for the betterment of humanity such people do not do a thing
You can make the World better to live in this is something you surely can do
By being compassionate and kind to others and becoming a far better you.

Life Without Them Does Go On

Many who thought they were irreplaceable where the deceased are now lay
And life and business in the World without them is going on today
They were looked on as important till life's reaper came reaping their way
Death is the great equalizer as the wise person does say
Many wealthy and famous women and men to the ways of time have gone
But in death they proved to be expendable as life without them does go on
Those who believe that they are irreplaceable with their self importance gets carried away
Money cannot buy life's Reaper the one who creates decay
Nature's terminator life's Reaper treats every life as the same
The lives of the poor and the hungry and the lives of those of great wealth and fame
Before the unavoidable sword of death like ripened corn do fall
Us humans are born as mortals and as mortals death is for us all
Those who thought that they were irreplaceable their gift of life from them has gone
But they were quite wrong in their thinking since life without them does go on.

Cruel People

A wise person to me once did say
Those who treat creatures in a cruel way
Can be cruel to people as well
For others they like making life earthly hell
Some enjoy inflicting on others physical and mental pain
From being cruel great pleasure they do gain
Their sort cannot be compassionate and kind
To be cruel is a flaw of the mind
Cruel people who over others have power
Beneath them the timid do cower
The bullies their victims never spare
And sad to say their sort are not rare
Those who to creatures cruel things do
Can be cruel to humans too.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Time Has Become Her Foe

Doubtless to say time has become her foe
She was quite pretty thirty years ago
She uses anti aging creams and with brown hair dye cloak her gray
In her attempts to keep aging at bay
But time on the body creeps slow
And the years on the best of them does show
In her early sixties childless and without a partner in her life
To any man she was never a wife
In her younger years one of the most attractive young women of the town
She turned a few proposals of marriage down
One reason that she is single today
For pride there can be a price to pay
A rare beauty in her physical prime
Though this is going back many years in time.

Love Of Place

The migrants who retain love of their homeland
Is something perhaps not hard to understand
But most people in their ways see things differently
And love of place does seem more natural to me

Memories of where i spend my younger years
Has often brought me close to nostalgic tears
Of a place that i do think about every day
Though from there i have been long gone and i live far away

Many migrants of their love of their homeland love to sing
But love of country can be a nationalistic thing
Soldiers in war zones for flag and country have died
Love of homeland can be linked to nationalistic pride

But love of homeland is different to love of place in every way
As chalk is from cheese as the wise one does say
All good and bad memories they only can trace
To a part of their country that is known as place

That many profess a great love of homeland
Is something i find easy to understand
Though love of place does seem more natural to me
Suppose many of us in our ways look at things differently.

At The Warrnambool January Friday Evening Market

At the Warrnambool Friday evening market in Lake Pertobe Park
Entertainment and business there goes on until dark
Food stall holders as well as stall holders there of every sort
Competing with each other for customer support
The laughter of children quite a joyous thing
With the amusement park nearby going at full swing
Lake Pertobe Park on a Friday evening in January
For holidaymakers and residents of Warrnambool is the place to be
A City where people do visit from places far and near
January in Warrnambool is a happy and sunny and breezy time of year
People young and old swimming where the waters of the Merri enters the Pacific at Lady Bay
Warrnambool in January a beautiful seaside City for a Holiday
At The Friday evening market in Lake Pertobe Park and the amusement park nearby
The sweet sound of laughter echo to the sky.

Friday, January 20, 2017

The Aging Steel Fixer

On his life's journey he has made many friends but he says he is not without foes
But then this is life one does have to suppose
A widower and grandfather in his late seventies nothing ever easy in life came his way
And physically he has known of a far better day
In his working life as a steel fixer by trade
He worked hard though a good living for himself and his family he made
On suburban building sites in his working life never unemployed
That he earned his living to him a source of pride
In his red brick one bedroom unit he lives on his own
Of the happy and sad times of life he has known
Five years ago to cancer he lost his wife
She was his soulmate and the great love of his life
His hair that was brown it is now silver gray
And physically he has known of a far better day.

Life For So Many

There are millions of people in the World today
Who only know of life in the hardest way
The stateless, the homeless and the refugee
Who are condemned to a life of extreme poverty
The majority of the wealth of the Human World controlled by the wealthy few
That inequality has never been more prevalent is not saying anything that is new
One of the main reasons for extreme poverty has to be human greed
Of more generous and compassionate billionaires the World is in need
With wars and famines poverty is on the increase Worldwide
And of a fair go in life too many are denied
So many today in life doing it tough
Without shelter or food living and sleeping rough
And the main reason for this is of course human greed
And life for so many is so tough indeed.

Brown Storm Water Flowing

Brown storm water flowing to the river in every stream, rill and drain
And the mountains are cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And cattle in farmyard sheds are bellowing for silage or hay
North of this Country in sky miles far away

Above the bare fields with a cold chill
The wild winds of January blowing from the hill
And howling aloud in the bare deciduous trees
In weather temperatures below the zero degrees

In this sunny countryside the air full of the buzzing of flies and of bees
And white butterflies are dancing in the warm breeze
And above the brown paddocks the dark welcome swallows fly
On pursuit of flying insects in the blue sky

Quite a contrast to a land from here far away
Where the cold winds of Winter are blowing today
And brown storm water flowing in every rill, stream and drain
To the far away river swollen by heavy rain.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Despite Your Many Achievements

Despite your many achievements have you had your moments of self doubt
Have you to yourself ever wondered what this living life is about
To me you are one who is cocky and not lacking in self esteem
You walk on the street with a swagger so full of yourself you do seem
You have the look at me addiction though sadly your type are not rare
Humility to you a stranger of self you are only aware
Texting your friends whilst out walking you seem quite attached to your phone
It keeps you from looking at others without it you would feel alone
A victim of modern technology so many are like you today
Into texting and taking selfies this is the twenty first century way
On a balmy evening in Summer of a pleasant twenty degrees
The wild birds are chirping and singing on the high branches of the trees
But of Nature's beauty you do not notice too busy texting on your phone
Suppose without modern technology you would feel depressed and alone.

The Town's Old Last Rhymer

The town's old last rhymer was buried today
Where the local deceased are his last remains lay
It would only be true of him for to say
That with words he was one who did have a way
Forever at rest with the loves of his life
His daughter and her mother his soul mate and wife
Their only child died as a baby for them such a sad thing
The happy and sad times life to us can bring
The town's old last rhymer is his claim to fame
With rhyming words for himself he made a name
Some of his rhymes set to music do live on in song
To an old style of literature he did belong
With his wife and their daughter he is now at peace
From life for us all there will be a final release.

Fr Joe Murphy

Sixty six years a catholic priest many of them spent in Nebraska in the U S of A
Sad news out of Millstreet Co Cork Fr Joe Murphy has passed away
In the old cemetery at the Town's West End his last remains lay
Near where he first looked on the bright lamp of day

As human life goes his was a lengthy span
And it can be said of Fr Joe that he was a good man
The World better for him living in it in truth of him one can say
And respect to his memory one only can pay

In his long lifetime he always planted karma's good seed
And of more of his kind the Human World is in need
He lived by his conscience tried to help everyone
His late father and mother in him did raise a good son

For all of us from life there is a final release
Near his first home Fr Joe Murphy is now at peace
And though the gift of life from his body has gone
Good memories of the great man he was will live on.

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Surely There Must Be

Surely there must be an afterlife hell
For the souls of the corrupted billionaires forever to dwell
The horrible self centered people of greed
Humanity without their sort would be better off indeed
Their sort are never an advantage to humanity
Without them in the World there would be less in poverty
Yet sadly by millions of impressionable people their sort are admired
Those who of singing their praises never seem to grow tired
A natural environmental vandal every greedy billionaire
For self and close kin only seem to care
In pursuit of their billions their big machines dig huge holes in the ground
In the works of the billionaire greedy environmental damage to Mother Earth abound
And surely there must be an afterlife hell
Where the souls of the billionaire greedy are forever to dwell.

In Yarpturk Today

The grass growing in the paddocks the color of hay
It is warm and humid in Yarpturk today
A weather high for the afternoon of twenty eight degrees
Without any coolness in the warm freshening breeze

Blowing from the ocean through the coastal Moyne Shire
In the prime of Summer always a high risk of bush fire
To be started by a pyromaniac or a lightning strike maybe
The threat of fire always high in January

Though recently shorn sheep by the trees are panting in the shade
For to cope well with warm conditions their sort are not made
The air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
And white butterflies are dancing in the warm breeze

With the sun on their dark wings chirping as they fly
Welcome swallows in pursuit of flying insects fly
Above the dry paddocks the color of hay
In warm and humid old Yarpturk today.

Compared To Many I Am Lucky

Compared to many i am lucky this i must say
Since i have never gone without food not even for a day
And though of my worth as a person i sometimes do doubt
Of any of life's necessissities i have never gone without
I have never been homeless or lived as a refugee
Though poverty can be relative it does seem to me
And though i am one at the wrong end of the social divide
I do believe that i have luck on my side
Every day in the World people of hunger die
Compared to them so very lucky am i
Though this is not saying anything that is new
The majority of the wealth of the World is owned by the wealthy few
In life i have been luckier than most and this is not a lie
Since it will not be of hunger that i will die.

Tuesday, January 17, 2017

For You Like Me

We age and grow old by the day
And young anyone does not stay
Face lifts and anti aging creams may keep age wrinkles at bay
But time on us has the last say
Though years beyond your life's prime physical stage
You may look quite young for your age
But age will creep on you by degrees
And you will die like the bushes and trees
Life does not last for evermore
The average human life span ten years with three score
Life's Reaper will eventually come reaping your way
And for you there will be a last night and day
Your gift of life is not an eternal thing
For you like me there will be a last Spring.

A January Night In Millstreet Town

Few cars on the quiet street do pass up and down
On a cold Winter night in old Millstreet Town
The pub doors are locked not a human in sight
On what is a typical January weekday night

On one of the moonlit trees in the Town Park nearby
The silence is pierced by a barn owl's shrill cry
In the depths of Winter and Spring nowhere near
For it and it's kind a hungry time of year

In the moonlit sky quite a beautiful sight
Myriads and myriads of stars twinkling bright
The cold chill of frost in the freshening breeze
In weather temperatures below zero degrees

Those home for the Christmas and New Year holiday
Have returned to where they live in cities far away
Irish country towns and villages are as quiet as can be
In the cold depths of Winter in January

At midnight on the Streets of Duhallow's Millstreet Town
Few cars and trucks do pass up and down
And a January breeze blows a cold chill
From the high countryside by Clara Hill.

Unsolicited, Unflattering Literary Advice

He advised me your rhyming stuff is not good enough
Quite lacking in finesse and overall rough
Yours will not be remembered as a literary name
Nor you will never know of an enduring fame
Free advice from a poetry loving man with a uni degree
That i could only take as a put down of me
Though his comments any hope of literary success in me did not raise
Sometimes criticism serves one far better than praise
The words of a wise person i do recall
You may well win some but you cannot win them all
To most people unsolicited, unflattering literary advice
To the feelings can be hurtful and not at all nice
From one i meet often though not every day
And maybe for me it is better this way.

Monday, January 16, 2017

Rhymers Now Are Of The Past

Dead as the petals of last Autumn's rose
Rhyme is as dead as one must suppose
In this the literary age of poetic prose
All rhymers they are writers on the nose
Of the twenty first century critics who say the news is great
We have killed off rhyme let us celebrate
We have condemned it to the literary waste bin of time
And proved it is not poetry stuff that does rhyme
And now that rhyme is finally dead
For true poetry good times are ahead
And since rhymers are condemned to the never more
For the true poets lets hear the encore
Literary styles are changing fast
And rhymers now are of the past.

Everyday Of Nature

Of Nature's ways little i can claim to know
Yet my wonder of her ways does never cease to grow
And i learn something of her every day
We learn as we live as the wise person does say
So many years past my physical prime
Just one more who is running out of time
Life's bloom has gone mortality ahead
Eventually we all end up as dead
I have loved Nature since i was a boy
And learning of her today i enjoy
The fact is we learn until the day we die
And as is said of fact it does not lie
Her wonders are many and her secrets quite a few
And every day of Nature i learn something new.

Eddie Everywhere

He is a man of many travels in the back of beyond he has been there
Known to some simply as Eddie and to others Eddie Everywhere
One who loves driving and travel he has been there and done that
As he age he is not growing wiser but he is not aging and growing fat

One who likes for to go fishing he owns a boat and motor car
To inland lakes and rivers and coastal sea bays To fish he does travel far
For miles around Eddie will tell you of every worthwhile to visit fishing spot
When it comes to fish and fishing he is one who knows quite a lot

Eddie known to be a talker some say of him he waffles on
Fit for his age but in truth of him his better physical days are gone
Gray haired in his mid fifties to sixties without a woman in his life
He would like one young and pretty as a partner or a wife

For Eddie no fatty bumbar he likes women young and slim
Aging women with some weight on most surely not the type for him
Yet as women goes for him disappointment since they do not come knocking on his door
To Eddie they are not attracted in their choice of man he is not to the fore

He is a man of many places always busy on the go
Yet like all he is not getting younger time too has become his foe
He has been on many road trips in the wide brown land out there
One with heaps of stories of his many travels aging Eddie Everywhere.

Sunday, January 15, 2017

A January Day In Koroit

In the sunny and blue sky just a few clouds of gray
It is warm and humid in Koroit today
In temperatures quite close to thirty degrees
The air is so still without any breeze
Though a cool coastal breeze would be welcome indeed
On a day like today such a thing one does need
Though in South West Victoria the weather temperatures are known to change fast
And warm spells and cold spells over long periods of time not known to last
With the sun on their dark wings as they do fly
Welcome swallows are chasing flying insects in the sky
Cattle from the heat of the sun crowd in the shade of the trees
And the air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
And white butterflies seemingly dancing in flight
In the warmth of January a beautiful sight.

The Dark Moyne

By the Town of Port Fairy as ever it does flow
On towards the Pacific at Griffith Island it crawls deep, dark and slow
The river known as the Moyne that has inspired song, story and rhyme
That will flow on forever through the centuries of time
Long before there was a Town known as Port Fairy going back the centuries
On warm Summer evening in the shade of the trees
In weather temperatures over the thirty degrees
Australia's first people had their corroborees
To the music of their didgeridoos they no longer dance and sing
What a change a few centuries with it does bring
Time with it brings changes life is this way
No corroborees in Port Fairy today
But then some things in time do not change at all
The dark and deep Moyne to the ocean slowly and silently crawl.

Where The Lilt Of Laughter

Where the lilt of laughter is echoing loud
He is the only sad one in a happy crowd
Sadness can invade the happiest space
Even where laughter abound for it there is a place
For the one who has been forsaken by his wife
Great sadness of late has invaded his life
In his mind for joy there is not any space
Even the laughter of others cannot bring a smile to his face
In the lounge room of the pub the joy it is great
As the football fans a big win of their team celebrate
He sits on a stool as he sips on his beer
His mind it is closed to the laughter of cheer
Not everyone joyful where laughter abound
Even where joy is present one sad to be found.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Not To Feel Relevant

For you a power hungry person not to feel relevant cannot be a nice thing
When your once fans out there your praises no longer sing
The one who is their center of attention today is no longer you
To accept irrelevance for one who loved to be and used to be relevant must be a hard thing to do
Though yours is no longer looked upon as a great name
You had your time in the limelight and you enjoyed your fame
And though that was years ago and is now of your past
Few things in life ever does seem to last
Of being known and admired you felt relevant and proud
And you loved the applause of the adoring crowd
But even life is a journey that does have an end
And few things do last of this why pretend
You did have your fan club a long time ago
And time it does seem has become your foe.

Koroit's Lake School

In the Lake School of music in Koroit Town the craic it is great
In the sessions in the pubs there they party till late
Till the wee hours of the morning they drink and they play
Music, song and laughter the best of medicine as some are known to say
The first week of January is often a humid and warm time of year
But in Koroit the sounds of music and laughter one does hear
In the pubs and on the streets for six nights and six days
How the merry makers party on in humid and warm weather simply does amaze
In Koroit in the first week of January near the City of Warrnambool
The music of Ireland reign in the Lake School
From far beyond the Moyne Shire in Victoria's south west countryside
People come to Koroit for the Lake School from places far and wide
The music from the pubs can be heard on the street
In Koroit in early January where the Celtic musicians meet.

I Have Traveled A Bit

The roadways of life i have been up and down
I have traveled a bit been in many a town
I have written the rhymes of places to i have been
And the amazing wonders of Nature i have seen

I have written of people i have met on my way
Some of them are part of my memories today
And some i would rather not really recall
In life you may well win some but you won't win them all

I cannot say that i have been there and done that
Though i have worked on pipeline crews near Ballarat
And i have worked in high travel towers paring tall trees
Above electricity power lines of danger of varying degrees

I have worked on city buildings sites and in truth i can say
There are easier ways to earn a living pay
Of any success i cannot boast about
Though life is not always easy as i have found out

And one thing for sure i will not die a millionaire
But of life's experiences i have known of my share
I know that life has many an up and a down
I have traveled a bit been in many a town.

Friday, January 13, 2017

Young Dennis

Young Dennis is an ordinary bloke
Likes the grog and tobacco smoke
Ordinary in every way
To his detriment some who do know him say

Respectable women think him quite rude
Since his approach to them is crude
Especially with a few too many to drink
When he speaks before he does think

Of finding love he has not one hope in hell
Since his chat up lines do not serve him well
Of his sexual encounters he has only stories to tell
Of his half hour sexual encounters at the local brothel

Pleasure that for lots of money he must part
Though his visits to the brothel will never leave him with a lovesick heart
Yet a handsome looking bloke of him one can say
He would do better with women if he could give the grog away

Dennis a randy young bloke
Likes his drink and likes his smoke
In the prime of his life at twenty five
Full of life and sexual drive

Yet by nubile females not a sought after young male of the town
Since in his chat up lines he leaves himself down
Women do find him quite rude
As his approach to them is far too crude.

I Have Never Claimed Myself

I have never claimed myself for to be a poet
Nor do i feel one as worthy of literary note
Since an old fashioned rhymer is the best i can claim to be
My love of rhyme has made a rhymer of me

The stuff i write the sort that anybody could write
So easy to remember and to recite
By the literary experts rhymers are not considered as the poets of today
That rhyme has lost out to change it does seem this way

In the prime of my life the rhyming bug bit me
And i penned my first rhymes in nineteen seventy three
And every day the new rhymes that i do write
I email to be published to a literary blog site

Even in literature few things in time seem to last
And as poetry goes rhyme is considered as a thing of the past
Something publishers no longer publish to sell
And by literary critics put in the throw out bin of doggerel

I used to love reading rhymes as a young boy
And writing them nowadays is a thing i enjoy
If i told you i would give up rhyming this would be a lie
For i hope to be doing it till the day i do die.

The One She Loved Truly

Her mum and dad did not want him as her lover or wife
And prevailed on her to shut him out of her life
So her relationship with him she brought to an end
She reluctantly told him she no longer wished to have him as a partner or friend
But when all hopes of getting back with him has gone
She still thinks about him and time on her ticking on
In her early sixties time has become her foe
She still grieves for a love that ended long ago
When her parents in her life did have a big say
And they in the same grave now forever lay
One love of her past in her mind is alive
Her love for a lover she jilted in her does survive
A bad decision in her life she lives to regret
The one she loved truly she cannot forget.

Thursday, January 12, 2017

Showing Their Age

The years have left him feeling weary and gray
And surely he has known of a far better day
But in his prime years he was one quite quick on his feet
The town's fastest runner a champion athlete

Though it has been many Seasons since he was in his physical prime
Going back the years some five decades of time
He was for a while the sporting legend of the town
Though time it has faded some of his renown

The best and the fastest become wearied by life
I often see him walking in the park with his aged wife
Arms linked on the pathway they shuffle on slow
The years on the best of them eventually do show

Who would believe without knowing that in the long ago
On going back the Seasons fifty years or so
That in big athletic meetings he always competed against the Country's best
And was never found to be wanting when put to the test

In their mid to late eighties he and his wife great grandparents are showing their age
Their lives journey quite near to the final stage
Time from them has stripped youth's beauty away
In the park i often see them out walking though not every day.

Koroit In January

In the mostly blue and sunny sky some cumulus of woolly looking gray
It is almost thirty degrees in Koroit Town today
The warbling of the magpies on the sunlit trees
In the Botanical Gardens is carrying in the freshening breeze
The laughter of children in the park playground a joy for to hear
On the first week of January in the early new year
A weather forecast high for the day of a warm twenty nine
Though nice and cool in the shade out of the sunshine
In Koroit of the Moyne Shire quite close to Warrnambool
At most times of the year the weather dry and cool
With strong links to Indigenous And Irish cultures two of it's claims to renown
One can say of it quite a livable town
The parks and Nature strips looking green after the recent rain
With such beautiful weather how could one complain.

That Wisdom Does Not Come With Age

That wisdom does not come with age i have come to realize
All people grow older but few do grow wise
I used to think wisdom it does come with age
But feel lucky in your lifetime if you meet with one sage
Wars are mostly caused by males of the aging kind
Who to the lessons of war history seem totally blind
Power gone to their heads and their egos out of control
Their decisions on thousands of poor people take toll
Egotistical government leaders with great power death and suffering does create
And a lot of ill feeling towards others in their words of hate
In a wise person there is so much to admire
Since power over others he or she never desire
And when i say that wise people as ever are in the few
I am not saying anything that one can say is new.

Wednesday, January 11, 2017

Without Asking You Always Tell Me

Without asking you always tell me of how marvelous you are
Of your grand home in the leafy suburb and you big new motor car
Of your lovely wife and clever children your life seems one big success
Though doubtless you have many admirers i am one not easy to impress
Your many big business successes for me do not do a thing
Though many for your material successes do admire you and your praises love to sing
Material success one of the in things of the Human World of Today
Money does speak every language as the wise are known to say
With the town's top business people you are one who does compare
One of the town's wealthiest people a known multi millionaire
And though i know of your material successes and i only wish you well
On your way to your next million of your latest success me why tell?
Of the size of your home and your swimming pool and your brand new motor car
Since i already know about you and of how marvelous you are.

Sometimes On My Flights Of Fancy

Sometimes on my flights of fancy friends of the past i do meet
On a balmy Summer evening in the old Town of Millstreet
In visualizations of the bygone the hands of time seem to stand still
It does not seem like thirty Summers since i last saw Clara Hill

Some i knew no longer living with the deceased they now lay
And some are growing old in Duhallow their children parents of today
And some like me with yearn for travel in the home Parish did not stay
Their better days now long behind them from north Cork aging far away

I remember Summer evenings in the prime of sweet July
When the dark winged barn swallows chased flying insects in the sky
We played soccer in the Town Park till the gloaming of the twilight
Going back in time many a Summer many a day and many a night

Sometimes on my flights of fancy i can hear a robin sing
On a leafy silver birch tree on an evening in the spring
When the hawthorns looked resplendent cloaked in their white blooms of the May
Yet the now is all that does matter as the wise are known to say

Often on my flights of fancy i am back in Millstreet Town
Near where i lived on long gone Summers when my hair was darker brown
Yet all i have now are the memories of the long gone long ago
Time has left me feeling and looking older time that becomes everyone's foe.

Not Everyone Of You

You may be a good person kind in every way
But not everyone of you has kind things to say
The flaw finders in you find a flaw or two
Passing judgement on others one of the things they like to do
The flaw finders on to themselves seem a law
As if they themselves do live without a flaw
Far too many it does seem living in every town
Who in their words enjoy dragging others down
Their sort to flaw seeking are readily inclined
Any hidden flaw in a person they always will find
But the flaws in themselves they never do see
Suppose for as long as they live this is how they will be
You well may be one who does good deeds every day
Though not everyone of you has nice things to say.

Tuesday, January 10, 2017

To Be Different From Others

To be different from others is never a shame
How boring we would be if we all were the same
If on anything we never could disagree
How utterly boring as people we would be
People are born to be tribal anthrophologists say
And many are followers and some lead the way
And those without a tribe always on their own
To those in the majority as loners are known
And though you may be an outsider and live in your own way
And of anyone an untrue thing do never say
Then as a person you are doing okay
And respect to you for who you are others ought to pay
And to be different from others is never a shame
How boring we would be if we all were the same.

The Fields Of Duhallow

Though from where i now live they are far away
The fields of Duhallow i think of every day
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Fond memories of them to me a source of joy

When the old frosted fields are deserted and gray
The cattle in farmyard sheds are bellowing for silage or hay
Of sleet, frost, snow, rain and gales the sky of gray clouds seldom clear
Winter in Duhallow is a cold and a wet time of the year

But April to Duhallow to the old fields brought green
And the wildflowers of Nature in abundance to be seen
And on nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day
The cattle in the shade of the trees chewing their cuds do lay

Of Spring in Duhallow the memories do stay
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
I can only visualize of the what used to be
Of Duhallow when there is so much beauty to see

Good memories remain with me as a joyful thing
Of birdsong in the prime of a Duhallow Spring
Fond memories of Duhallow today i do retain
And often in fancy i visit the old fields again.

Those Who Are Not Remembered

The Worldwide half of the human population suppose one must forgive
If they do not seem to realize how the poorer half live
Only the compassionate of those who were never hungry or homeless would feel sympathy
For those who are living in dire poverty

And yet millions of people in life are doing it tough
Hungry and homeless and sleeping rough
Homeless as teenagers they struggle to survive
Against the gods of bad circumstance they constantly strive

The people who live on the brink of despair
Without a shadow of a doubt life to them is not fair
Some of them the Reaper of lives has denied
When they end their own lives in the act of suicide

How those in dire poverty do live most of the well to do would not realize
Though this in itself is not any surprise
The homeless and hungry many of them die young
Those who are not remembered and remain as unsung.

Monday, January 9, 2017

We Keep On Learning

It is said of wonders they never cease for to grow
The more you learn the less you know you know
About life and what living life is about
So lucky the one who has never known of self doubt
From years of living you come to realize
That discretion is a forte of the wise
And sad to say the wise in numbers are few
And this is not saying anything that is new
On many things you and i cannot agree
As you look on life quite differently to me
Who is right or wrong is not for me to say
We just see things in quite a different way
Only know things as they were do never stay
And we keep on learning from life every day.

Every Day She Fills Me With Wonder

I know little of her in truth i can say
But of Nature i learn something new every day
But the more i learn of her the more i realize
That of her ways i have so much to learn and this is not any surprise
The more i do learn of Nature the more my wonder of her does grow
The more i realize that so little of her ways i can claim of to know
In life we never stop learning we learn till the day we do die
And those who tell you quite different are those who believe their own lie
I have always been in love with Nature ever since i was a young country boy
When Summer evening walks in the old fields were things that i used to enjoy
And today she still fills me with wonder such joy to me she always does bring
Such great beauty in all of her Seasons Summer, Autumn and Winter and Spring
Of her i can claim to know little in some of her ways she is a mystery
Everyday she fills me with wonder her beauty is all around me.

Quite A Contrast

Today it is cold in Duhallow the weather temperatures at minus three degrees
And the chilly gales from the Boggeraghs are howling in the naked trees
But here in the Moyne Shire it is humid and sunny the warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
And white butterflies above the paddocks seemingly dancing in the breeze
Quite a contrast to distant Duhallow where cattle in farmyard sheds are bellowing for silage or hay
Where from the freezing overnight frost the deserted fields are looking gray
The hungry wild birds in the backyards by back doors pecking crumbs of bread
Some of them will not live till the Springtime many cold days and nights of them ahead
In the Summer breeze blowing in the Moyne Shire the sweet scent of grass mowed for hay
What a contrast this is to Duhallow far north of here and far away
The welcome swallows they are chirping as in pursuit of flying insects they fly
With the warmth of the sun on their dark wings they turn and twist in the sky
Out there in the sunlit brown paddocks the magpie larks calling pee wee
So different today in Duhallow where the cold gales howl in every bare tree.

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Despite Your Greatest Achievement

Despite your greatest achievement only one thing on you can depend
That you will not be living forever your life journey will come to an end
In cemeteries all over the World the deceased wealthy and famous lay
Their money and material possessions from them did not keep life's reaper away
The Reaper of lives does not have friends and treats every life as the same
The one who cannot be bribed with money is the one who does not respect fame
You may be a person of great influence one of the wealthiest people of the town
But the Reaper of lives does come reaping and mows every tall poppy down
The Reaper of lives does claim the lives of the pauper and the billionaire
The one known as the equalizer anyone's life has not been known to spare
No matter how wealthy and successful a person that you happen to be
To the Reaper of lives you are just one more who was born into mortality
The human body does not live forever since the body is born for to die
This is a fact of our existence and fact as we know does not lie.

Religious Fundamentalists

Religion is known to make good people great
But sadly in some it does give rise to mistrust and hate
And in the name of religion many crimes against humanity
Committed by religious fundamentalists who are criminals of the lowest degree
But their god or their religion not responsible for their crimes of shame
For their foul acts they have to take all of the blame
I have known religious people to be caring and compassionate and kind
And to the helping of others always readily inclined
But fundamentalism of any sort not healthy for the mind in any way
Some fundamentalists are the worst of criminals in the Human World of today
It is not their god's fault that they wish on others ill
If they commit bad crimes against humanity and plunder, maim and kill
Most religious people of all faiths are known to be compassionate and kind
It is only a few who are bad in their mind.

In Ways Differently

We all look at success in ways differently
The one successful to you may not be so to me
The wealthy and famous you only admire
And of singing their praises you never do tire
This is your opinion and this suits me fine
But your heroes and heroines are different to mine
With your thinking on this i could never agree
My heroes and heroines are those who help the homeless the stateless and the refugee
They may never be wealthy or know of renown
But they are a credit to their side of the town
For to help those in need of helping they go out of their way
Without even expecting the rewards of pay
You have your opinions and this suits me fine
And your heroes and heroines are so very different to mine.

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Many Do Grow Older

Many do grow older but few do grow wise
A saying from the past that to reflection gives rise
That to some people of the twenty first century surely does apply
Why some seem to fail to realize that life is not eternal one must wonder why

Not that much different to the long deceased miners in the days of old
In their sixties and seventies and eighties idolizing money the new form of gold
As if our greatest gift the gift of life to little does amount
To them the material things of life only does count

People in their sixties and seventies and eighties with money to spare
Their sort as ever today are not rare
Life's material things are all they can talk about
Of their priorities in life they never leave one in doubt

People in years well beyond their lives physical prime
Who do not seem to realize that they are running out of time
The accumulation of large amounts of money their only idea of success
Their aspirational aging peers in this way they impress

Immortality for the human body is surely not a lie
They do not seem to realize that they are going to die
And many grow older but few do grow wise
A saying from the past that to reflection gives rise.

The Memories Of What Was

Cattle on a Winter morning in farm yard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
And the empty fields covered in frost hoary gray
Of a bleak time of year the memories with me stay
Of a place by the hills in a land from here far away

But Spring always brought with her wildflowers and her many shades of green
And bluebells bloomed on the ditch of every bohreen
And the mental pictures remain with me today
Of the hawthorns cloaked in their white blooms of the May

In my many visualizations the dippers i hear
Singing in a stream to my thoughts ever near
Dark brown water birds of breasts white as snow
By sight and their scratchy song them i got to know

Where i grew to love Nature as a young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
And of Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning as the wise one does say

The memories of what was today i retain
Of the mountain half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And the river bank high in flood waters of brown
Flowing in the rushy fields by the old country town

I only have memories of the what used to be
This is all of the past that does remain with me
And though old memories stay with us till the day we do die
The fact is we can only live in the now and fact never lie.

Brendan O' Sullivan On His Bagpipe

On the roadway by the church in Ballydaly at the tolling of the funeral bell
Brendan O' Sullivan on his bagpipe he piped a last farewell
To the backdrop of the Boggeraghs on a gray December day
His respect to his neighbor, friend and mentor Eddie Murphy in music he did play

Of one who will always be remembered when friends of his will meet
Before the hearse did lead the funeral cars to St Mary's in Millstreet
Carrying a man who in his lifetime was known far and wide
From his native Ballydaly in Duhallow's green countryside

An image from the camera of Sean Radley uploaded online by Russell Murphy that will live on for years
Long after those who knew and loved Eddie will have shed their last grief healing tears
A farewell to a favorite son one of Ballydaly's own
In his long lifetime every day his friends in numbers had grown

On a bleak day in December close to zero degrees
The plaintive sound of Brendan's bagpipe was carrying in the breeze
Across Eddie Murphy's fields blowing with a cold chill
In view of Caherbarnagh, Gortavehy, Kippagh and Clara hill

Brendan O' Sullivan on his bagpipe a farewell to Eddie Murphy did play
Before the hearse carried him to St Mary's where his last remains now lay
One who was loved by many and though the gift of life from him has gone
Good memories of the man he was in all who knew him will live on.

Friday, January 6, 2017

Say Only This Of Me

If i should die tomorrow say only this of me
He has written a lot of rhyming stuff since nineteen seventy three
He was just an addictive rhymer till death of addiction set him free
Just one more old fashioned rhymer left to fade from memory
For many Seasons of his life he was a rhyming buff
One who became known in his lifetime for penning of rhyming stuff
But he was a godless fellow since the existence of god he did deny
The term of devout person to his sort never apply
He used to say of the hereafter he would be happy in hell
If he had a pen and paper for to pen doggerel
Just one more deceased poetaster unworthy of literary note
Who used to daydream in his younger years that he might be a poet
But that daydreams are only daydreams remains as an ever true
And many believe what we receive from life happens to be our due.

The Lovely Rose Of Koroit

She left her Hometown in the Moyne Shire for places far away
The Lovely Rose of Koroit where might she be today
The wanderlust in her young mind for bigger towns and cities elsewhere
To appease her sense of adventure in the bigger World out there

She left Koroit Town in October in the prime of the Spring
When the nesting birds on bushes and trees had their songs for to sing
And though that was more than two years ago and from Koroit she now does live afar
Koroit's young males still talk of her in the Commercial Pub and Mickey Bourke's Bar

The attractive Rose of Koroit with lovely eyes of brown
And shoulder length wavy raven hair the Pride of Koroit Town
She left Koroit in the Moyne Shire but memories of her beauty there remain
And what is a loss to her home-place is the bigger World's gain

The lovely Rose of Koroit free of conceit and guile
Tall graceful and attractive with charm in her smile
She went to follow her dreams to places far away
But she is remembered with fondness in her Hometown today.

On Their Mission They They Have Succeeded

The literary critics and university literary dons from the people took rhyme
The what used to be known as poetry of another time
Not invited to read at any important twenty first century poetry reading the old fashioned rhymer poet
In literary circles nowadays their sort not seen as worthy of literary note

Rhyming poetry was of all people it transcended social rank
And for it's demise in most parts we have the literary elitists to thank
That rhyme is not poetry only doggerel this message they sell
And on their mission to kill it off they have done rather well

Way back in the nineteen fifties when i was a young boy
Reading rhymes of the old rhyming poets i used to enjoy
Till the literary elitists on this had their say
The old fashioned rhymers are the doggerel writers of today

What is or is not poetry it is they who decide
Their literary elitism like all forms of elitism born of a sense of pride
On the opinions of the self as if as if one's opinions should only count
But sadly their literary opinions for them to something does amount

Since they have helped to condemn rhyming poetry to the literary dustbin of time
Through the media and their written words they have dismissed it as doggerel rhyme
And on their mission they have succeeded which does seem sad to say
In the dismissing of every rhymer as a poetaster of today.

Thursday, January 5, 2017

A Warm December Day

The evening is warm over thirty degrees
And humid with only a very slight breeze
The mosquitoes are biting my legs hands and face
Everywhere they bite of an itchy red mark there's a trace
The warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
Out of the sun the cattle are sheltering in the shade of the trees
Their way in warm weather of trying to stay cool
In the coastal countryside between Koroit and Warrnambool
Above the paddocks in the blue sunny sky
In pursuit of flying insects the dark welcome swallows fly
On such warm and humid weather the body quickly does tire
And sweat on your hands and face as you perspire
Just a few patches of gray in the blue sunny sky
And the weather forecast for tomorrow again is warm, humid and dry.

Since Their Ideas Of A Fair Go

People for so many years that used to be friends of mine
I do not meet them often now though this does suit me fine
Since their idea of a fair go does not encompass all
On some of their thinking sad to say they do seem rather small
On their thinking on Humanity and on how the World should be
With some sadness i realize that they have grown apart from me
With some of the things they believe in i never could agree
But then as has been often said we see things differently
There was a time for to meet them i would go out of my way
Many of those i used to see as good friends i do not see as good friends today
They have seemed to grow more polarizing with age with their words they are not discreet
Some of those i used to look upon as friends nowadays i would rather not meet
They have become strangers to me as if them i had never known
And in my thinking far apart from them i have grown.


I grew up among the creators of elitism in a land far away
And i live near the creators of elitism today
Some things do not change they are with us to stay
And in the case of elitism this does seem sad to say

The parents of aspirational children were boasting to me
Our son and daughter are in college working towards a degree
Our daughter will be a doctor our son an engineer
Though sometimes things of no benefit to you out of politeness you feel obliged to hear

Elitism in their family they felt proud to support
You will find it in every day life and you will find it in sport
For many years elitism does seem the in thing
Though i for one it's praises never could sing

Those who support elitism help to support social rank
And for inequality in the Human World in some ways we have them for to thank
And that elitism is rife in the Human World of today
Does seem quite a sad thing for to have to say.

Wednesday, January 4, 2017

Since Death Is For All

Though the fear of death is the fear of the unknown
If you are one who fears it you are not on your own
To face death without fear great courage one does need
And the one who dies brave is a brave one indeed
If i told you i do not fear death i would be telling you a lie
Like many i do not have a wish for to die
But i know that on some future night or on some future day
The Reaper of lives will come reaping my way
For the Reaper of lives does not differentiate
Between the lives of the poor and the so called great
Before the scythe of life's reaper like wheat we do fall
There will be a last night and last day for us all
A last night and day for you and a last night and day for me
Since death is for all of life one certainty.

An Aged Migrant

His life story in book form will never be told
But he has a good memory though he has grown old
He remembers his childhood as if it was yesterday
As a primary school going boy in the town far away

In his early twenties when his hair was light brown
His yearn for travel took him from his hometown
His journeys in life took him to towns and cities elsewhere
Where he learned about life in the big World out there

A grandfather and widower in his mid eighties his hair silver gray
And clearly he has known of a far better day
A likeable fellow to many he is known
In his one bedroom flat he lives on his own

When walking in the park he greets everyone with a smile on his face
The gentle old man from the far away place
And though he walks rather slowly time has become his foe
He retains his memories of the long ago.

A Day In December

In the morning a few hours of quite heavy rain
And brown flood water flowing in every creek and drain
To the Merri River near the City of Warrnambool
In weather quite warm and humid as opposed to cool
The afternoon windy and warm and humid and bright
And white butterflies are dancing in the sunlight
The gusty wind carries the sweet scent of grass mowed for hay
Blowing across the brown paddocks from the saltwater bay
My true worth as a rhymer i have good reason for to doubt
But in Nature no shortage of anything for to write rhymes about
Birds familiar to many and familiar to me
The black and white magpie larks are singing pee wee
White butterflies are dancing in the strong evening breeze
On a December afternoon humid and warm close to thirty degrees.

Tuesday, January 3, 2017

That One Small Worry

That one small worry does lead to one bigger does seem true to say
And worrying from you will not keep worries away
But suppose it is hard to feel happy when you are feeling down
And one of the poor on your side of the town
You do not have a job or you do not own a car
With little money in life one does never get far
In a town where many are unemployed and jobs are so few
On saying that many have worries is not saying anything that is new
Money speaks every language why otherwise pretend
And those who have plenty of it are never short of a friend
On the lowest step of the social ladder you are permanently stuck
And it is hard for to smile when you are down on your luck
But worrying does never keep worries at bay
And so many like you in the Human World of today.

A Stranger In Millstreet

I cannot say that it does bring joy to me
To think that a stranger to most people in Millstreet i would be
A stranger to many where years ago i was well known
And where i would not be seen now as one of their own

Even in Claraghatlea where my life's journey began
Today many would say who is this strange old man
What brings him to here he looks so old and gray
He must have arrived from a place far away

Like home to the Roman will always be Rome
Millstreet to me it will always be home
Though i grow old under a far southern sky
My place of birth to anyone i would never deny

Far north of this sunny countryside near Warrnambool
A stranger in Millstreet where i went to school
Just a half an hour walk west of the Town of Millstreet
I still miss those old fields where the waterways meet

Many i knew in Millstreet not living there today
Some of them among the deceased does lay
And some like me in the Parish who did not choose to stay
From their first homes in Duhallow are aging far away

Perhaps on a Spring twilight in a field by old River Finnow
I will never more hear the soft lowing of a cow
When the male snipe above the bog in the darkening sky as he flies around
With his wings and tail makes a drumming sound

I would be a stranger to many in Millstreet today
And this for me does feel a sad thing for to say
But the now is all that does matter and life does go on
And at midnight this evening today will be gone.

In Their Lifetimes

In their lifetimes they knew of local renown
And memories of them today live in people in the town
Though silence and darkness where they now do lay
They live in the minds of their descendants today
Only the breath of life from them has gone
Their beliefs and their ways are living on
In their children and grandchildren their beliefs alive
Beyond our own existence what we stand for survive
To say in some ways they do live is hardly a lie
Only the life's breath in their bodies did die
The ways of their ancestors to their descendants they do give
And in their descendants their genes do live
In their lifetimes they knew of local renown
And memories of them today live in people in the town.

Monday, January 2, 2017

You Can Make A Better Human World To Live In

You can make a better Human World to live in by becoming a better you
If you are always kind to others and to your higher self keep true
If you help one in need of your help without expecting reward or pay
Then you are sowing the seeds of good karma since life it does work in this way
Some in their ways rather selfish only live for me, myself and i
Humanity from them does not benefit though as wealthy they may die
Living for self rather selfish with this would you not agree
In a Human World where many people live in extreme poverty
The majority of the material wealth of the World is owned by the super wealthy few
On saying that this is not to the benefit of humanity is not saying anything that is new
In the World some marvelous people who help poor people every day
For to help those in need of helping they willingly go out of their way
They sow the seeds of good karma without expecting the rewards of pay
And they make the World better to live in by doing their good deeds every day.

I Am Not One Of The High Achievers

I am not one of the high achievers in life you have been my greatest win
Every time that you are near me i feel love bubbling within
Loving you a marvelous feeling that in words i cannot explain
I hope that until death we will be together and in my life you will remain
I have loved you through many Seasons and though you and i long past our prime
Our love only has grown stronger and has withstood the test of time
I feel so lucky to have met you our love through the years does grow
Beautiful and wise and clever you do have the inner glow
Some men they are not so lucky love for them it does not last
They grow old as sad and lonely thinking of love of the past
Compared to them i do feel lucky i found love that remains true
I feel quite a privileged person to have found one as good as you.

Age Does Weaken

Age does weaken body and mind like age does weaken the old tree
All we do have are the memories of the long gone used to be
The biological clocks are ever ticking few things in life ever last
At the very stroke of midnight today will be of the past

We should only feel quite happy for every day we wake to see
Though many of us cling to our memories of the past we are not free
Yet we can only live in the now tomorrow is another day
And the past has gone forever time does not wait as they say

Every day in Countries Worldwide people for success compete
Yet most of the wealthy and the famous are victims of self conceit
Fans and public admiration to swollen egos do give rise
The admired one who does stay humble is one who has to be wise

We should always be quite happy for to welcome every day
Since you or i or anyone does not know when the life's reaper will decide to come reaping our way
Fame and success as is well known comes to many at a cost
Life is the greatest gift that we have when we lose it all is lost.

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Every Time He Thinks About Her

Every time he thinks about her his eyes well over with tears
Time has not fully healed his sorrow though she has been dead for years
She died in a motor car accident more than three decades ago
With their dark haired three years old daughter Jenny of eyes as blue as ripened sloe

Linda his wife a lovely woman one of the fairest of the town
Hair as dark as raven's feather pretty eyes of chestnut brown
Cruel luck took his nearest and dearest time has not healed all of his pain
Sadness tinged with the nice memories of his wife and daughter till death with him will remain

And he never did remarry his must be a lonely life
Only photos to remind him of his daughter and his wife
True enough time is a healer though some sad memories of the past
In the mind does seem to linger and through the years of time do last

Gray haired Ted in his mid seventies one who does live on his own
He does not look very healthy better days he would have known
Life does have it's good and bad times of this he knows all too well
And what the future does hold for us there is not one who can tell.

I Have Never Been To Utopia

I have never been to utopia far away from earthly hell
But of life stories like all others i have many for to tell
Of the good and not so good times i have met along life's way
And each dawning i do wake to brings me nearer to my last day

I can tell about the skylarks singing over Clara hill
And the ever pleasant ripple in the old fields of the rill
When the nesting birds are singing in the twilight calm and gray
And the air sweet with the scent of blossom in the balmy month of May

Mostly good memories of Nature i like to relate to and retain
Like the song of the rufous whistler in the thunder and the rain
Loud noise does wake the song in him and compels him for to sing
Of Nature's many wonders just one more amazing thing

Like billions of other people good and bad days i have known
But only the happy memories we do cherish as our own
My best memories are of Nature though her secrets not in the few
Every day from her i learn something marvelous and new

I have never climbed Mt Everest or competed for Olympic gold
And in book form the story of my life will not be told
I am one who does love Nature and enjoys writing rhyme
And one the years have left their mark on and is running out of time.

Those Who Love

Those who love are lucky people it is a rare gift they possess
In a human world where billions of people compete for material success
To give love without asking for love in return is quite a rare gift indeed
The human world better for them in it of their sort humanity of more in need
People out of love do great things go to war torn cities far away
For to help the dispossessed and injured without the reward of monetary pay
They are people worth admiring of their praises i can only sing
For their kindness and compassion love is an amazing thing
Love often mistook for passion words like i love you not hard to say
Rhyming to one like me is just a passion with rhyming words i love to play
But i have never devoted my time to helping very poor people who live in extreme poverty
Those who do so are quite amazing and as people quite extraordinary
Those who love are lucky people and them i only can admire
And i can only sing their praises of such i could never tire.