Familiar Australians

So familiar to many and familiar to me
The dainty black and white birds that are known as pee wee
Or magpie lark or mudlark birds I often see
They build cup shaped mud nest on low branch of tree
Near where people reside they are happy to stay
They call out pee wee in the park every day
They are as well known as the magpie, the kookaburra or crow
Even to people of birdlife who of little seem to know
Even on the sidewalks of the big town street
These feathered Australians one is likely to meet
Insect eating birds at home in the countryside or the town parks
The often seen and often heard magpie larks
Like the magpie or kookaburra or pied currawong
Birds who are recognizable by sight or by song.

The Self Seeking Are Many

'Tis true men and women are different and little in common we do share
But we all own the flaws we are born with and good men like good women are rare
The goals we have for ourselves in life we do pursue
But if we lack in respect for others to honour we cannot be true
You may be the highest achiever in your side of the town
But if in your climb to success you have dragged others down
Then to Karma for you there will be some price to pay
What goes around comes around as some like to say
To help others good people go out of their way
And they do perform their good deeds every day
Our need for success and recognition is not hard to explain
But there's more to human life than always seeking self gain
The self seeking are many but the truly good few
On saying that I'm not saying anything that is new.

It Will Always Be To Me

Though nowadays there mine may be a stranger's face
It will always be to me my beloved homeplace
Old Claraghatlea where my life's journey began
Where from a young child I grew into a man
I grew to love Nature in fields far away
A love I retain that is with me today
I got to know some birds by their chirping or song
Their voices born of Nature one could never get wrong
On a calm Spring morning just before sunrise
I can still hear the robin when I visualize
By my old home singing on a cypress tree
Good memories of what was still living in me
The years have left me looking weary and gray
And I might seem a stranger in millstreet today.

Australia An Ancient Land

Australia an ancient Land even in the Dreamtime
That has inspired many great writers to story and rhyme
Of tropical and temperate climates of varying degrees
And of wattles, pittosporums and eucalypt trees.

The Land of the World's oldest Indigenous Race
In Australia the Country's first people do take pride of place
'Tis said they first arrived from Asia on Australia's northern shore
Going back in time sixty thousand years or more.

The home of the wallaby, the red and the gray kangaroo
The emu, corella the black and the white cockatoo
Of koala, echidna, brush turkey and mallee fowl
Platypus, lory, galah and the barking owl.

A Multicultural Land the Australia of today
A home from home for migrants from Lands far away
People from all parts of the World from Timbuctoo to Rome
Who are happy for to call Australia home.

On Plagiarists

They are of no use to the Wordsmith Trade those who plagiarize
Their lowly sort of behaviour unwarranted and unwise
A well know plagiarist even won a major literary prize
Though above the most ordinary of ordinary such people never rise
For their sense of low self esteem all plagiarists are known
They steal others work and claim it for their own
Without any sense of honour or any sense of shame
For them only disgrace for them never fame
Of a plagiarist nothing positive for one for to say
Far too many of their sort in the Literary World of today
To the words of others online they put their own name
A thief and a plagiarist are one of the same
Plagiarism is dishonourable and quite a shameful thing
And of the praises of such people you won't hear anyone sing.

From Their Love Of Self

For their future Karma they plant the good seed
Of more compassionate people the World is in need
From their love of self is born empathy
They possess a rare gift that's how it seems to me
Of the suffering of others they genuinely do care
And of the plight of the have nots they are all too aware
To help those in need of helping they go out of their way
And they perform a good deed or two every day
Always helping the aged poor and those mentally and financially down
They are an asset to their side of the town
These people are a credit to humanity
They help the poor victims of dire poverty
The people we do seldom hear of or read
Their love of self to love of others them lead.

Back There In The Place

Back there in the place where the Cails waters flow
To join the Finnow by ditch, grove and hedgerow
In the home of the badger and silver back crow
Where in the warm winds of Summer the bog cotton blow,
Of June in Duhallow the memories remain
And in fancy I visit the old homeplace again
The curlew is piping o'er Matty Owens bog
Where I often hunted with Pudsy the dog
In distance from me the old fields far away
But I visualize them in their wildflowers today
When Nature at her very finest is seen
And everywhere looking so lush and so green
The skylark to sing from the rushes does rise
His music comes to me when I visualize.

One I Meet Often

He is one I meet often though not every day
Though to each other we seem to have little to say
Just a hello in passing whenever we meet
In the public park the shopping mall or on the street
Suppose we have little in common to share
In the Human World such an occurence not rare
With the town's aspirational he wine and he dine
And his interests in life are quite different to mine
He is in his mid twenties my best days long gone
And only the love of life makes me want to live on
As for him he yearns to be wealthy and famous and known
But as is said by many to each their own
Suppose in ways I once was like him ambitious and full of elan
But it has been awhile since I was a young man.

A Compassionate Young Man

He does not even yearn for local renown
The shy and quiet bloke of the coastal country town
Yet people who know him nice things of him say
Since to help others out he goes out of his way
He helps the town's poorest those of help in need
Yet he never seeks recognition for any good deed
Near his physical prime he has just turned twenty one
His father and mother in him raised a good son
He does not play sport many his age play football
Such manly behaviour does not interest him at all
A devoted member of the local Vincent De Paul
When the poor ask for help he does answer their call
A compassionate young man I feel privileged to know
The seeds of good karma for himself he does sow.

They Like Doing Their Own Thing

That artists are many and writers not few
One may say to that tell us something that's new
And the ageing rhymer showing the ravage of time
But he or she will never run out of rhyme
The gifts we possess born of birth circumstance
The musician will play and the dancer will dance
The composer writes music the singer does sing
Of them one can say they like doing their own thing
Though many of their gifts never become aware
With others the gifts we are born with we are supposed to share
Some out of their gifts become wealthy and famous many times a millionaire
Though financially wealthy gifted people overall are quite rare
The singer will sing and the musician will play
And each to their own as some do like to say.

On Seeing Gannets Fishing

Above where the huge white surf waves toss two hundred metres out from the shore
The white fishing gannets do circle and soar
Then with folded wings into salt water they dive
To plunder the pilchard school on which they survive
Amazing to watch them circling as they fly
The feathered marine acrobats of the southern sky
True birds of the sea they do dive for their prey
For as long as they live they do fish every day
To watch gannets fishing is a wonderful sight
They dive for their small prey from such a great height
So much beauty in Nature for one to admire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
Nature's wildborn creatures that live off of the sea
To watch gannets fishing amazing to me.

By Paying To Others

To your higher self you can only stay true
By paying to others the respect they are due
Those who in their words belittle and put others down
Do never become the heroes of the town
If you do not respect yourself respect to others you cannot show
I only say here what anyone should know
If you cannot love and respect self you cannot love at all
Those without such gifts in their ways are quite small
Those not loved as children lack love's inner glow
Into sarcastic and bitter adults they do grow
If you cannot love self you cannot love anyone
And respect is a thing that is earned not won
You will never know of respect if respect to others you don't pay
That is how it is and 'twill always be this way.

I LIke To Pen Rhymes

I am not a poet that I have said before
I am just a rhymer that and nothing more
In the Literary World not worthy of note
I've never pretended for to be a poet.

I pen rhymes of the lark with the musical bill
That carols so sweetly above the brown hill
A disappearing speck in the clouds of the sky
His music grows fainter as upwards he does fly.

I like to pen rhymes of the silver tongued rill
That to the big river babbles with a will
At the start of it's journey to the sea far away
It never stops babbling by night or by day.

I like to pen rhymes of the wild birds of song
Some of them by their voices one cannot get wrong
I grew to love Nature long before my life's prime
And my love for her is undiminished by time.

I loved reading the poems of the old bards as a boy
And penning rhyme now is a thing I enjoy
But we all look at life one might say differently
At least anyway that's how it seems to me.

Due To Human Beings

Many species of wildlife are now endangered and one of those the great white Arctic bear
In the wild state they are facing extinction according to World Wildlife watch they are becoming rare
Due to Climate Change the Arctic Winter shorter and the ice they need to hunt on far too thin
Just one more life form that has become endangered in Global warming who can hope to win
Not human beings we too may face extinction though without us life in the World will go on
Our bad environmental practices may have hurried on Climate Change too late now to regret the chances gone
Had we been kinder to our Earth Mother who feeds us it well may be a different World today
Perhaps we have sown the seeds of our Karma and that does seem a sad thing for to say
But Mother Earth she will live on without us the one destined to live forever more
The unheralded ruler of the World she feeds the life forms of Sea and Land and Shore
New forms of life always evolve in Nature that's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
Nature outlived the dinosaurs who preceded people and Nature will outlive humanity
The Polar Bear on the brink of extinction the shorter Arctic Winter on them taking toll
Due to human beings bad environmental practice 'twould seem Climate Change is now out of control.

Two Such Men

Mal Brown and Robert DiePier Domenico two ex A F L greats in trouble over racist remarks of late
They ought to have known that such obnoxious behaviour the majority of people do not tolerate
In their prime years they were champion footballers but there's more to a man than being good at football
Physically big and strong but in other ways quite lacking but only real good people have it all
They should have known their every word is noted some people do not think before they speak
They should have kept their ill thought words as private yet who amongst us in some way not weak
Such people are looked up to as role models though 'tis not by good example they do lead
Of poor behaviour of famous sporting people too often we do hear about and read
There's more to one than being wealthy and famous though their names will live on in sporting renown
But it should go without saying that Mal and Dipper by their racist remarks have left themselves down
They should have known their every public word is noted ill chosen words can cause offence one should realize
But like 'tis said of men all men grow older but some men as they age do not grow wise
And two such men are Mal Brown and the Dipper Australian Rules footballers of renown
By lovers of sport well known throughout Australia in every city and village and town.

At Least Another Spring

I hope to see at least another Spring
And hear again the gold billed blackbird sing
On a leafy tree on a warm and breezy day
But time on my life ticks and ticks away
The Winter weather thus far mild after a pleasant Fall
Ten weeks to Spring in time not long at all
When pink blossoms will be on fruit bearing trees
And the songs of birds will be carrying in the breeze
And green parks and paddocks lush after recent showers
Will look resplendent in their September flowers
And silver billed magpie he will sing day and night
His flute like notes echoing in the moonlight
The ravages of time visibly showing on me
But another Spring I hope I live to see.

In A Human World Where Millions Are Hungry

In a Human world where millions are hungry and Homelessness and Statelessness nowadays is rife
It would take a hard hearted person to dismiss this with 'such is life'
Or words such as this is not my problem some with others cannot empathize
That due to good fortune they too may be paupers they do not seem to realize
The hard hearted in numbers do seem to be growing and that does seem a sad thing to say
They only think of self and close kin they see life in a selfish way
They vote for people who think like them those who believe in the us against they
Respect to the rights of asylum seekers such people not prepared to pay
Many of such people are well educated yet in their ways they are so small
They believe on a fair go for themselves and their own kind but not on a fair go for all
In the company of racists and xenophobics I always do feel out of place
They make me feel ashamed to be human as a member of the human race
I will drink a toast to the compassionate and to those who believe on for all a fair go
Such people make me proud to be human good karma for themselves they do sow.

The People Who Are Without Love

The people who are without love how lonely they must be
Since the need for love is in us all including you and me
The writers of it love to write the singers of it sing
And love which comes in many forms is an amazing thing
The love of a mother for her child the love of sweethearts and man and wife
But the saddest thing for anyone is when love dies in their life
I pity those who have lost love of loneliness they do know
The ache of lost love lives for years and seems to grow and grow
In us all there's the need for love that is our human way
And that loneliness replaces love does seem so sad to say
The lucky one who knows of love is of contented mind
It has been said where love does live that happiness you'll find
The people who are without love in spirits feeling down
They even find it hard to smile the sad sacks of the town.

A Long Way South Of Claraghatlea

On many roads of south eastern Australia I've driven up and down
A long way south of Claraghatlea a mile from Millstreet Town
And my old home by the Millstreet-Rathmore road where my life's journey began
Where I first grew to love Nature as I grew into a man
In Winter there was much rainfall with many a cold spell
But Spring brought greeness to the place as I remember well
And April came and brought her bloom and the countryside looked green
And everywhere one turned to look great beauty to be seen
The cattle out of wintering sheds on lush grass weight did gain
And wildflowers in the grassy fields were blooming after rain
And dark winged swallows home to breed from places far away
And nesting wild birds in the leafy groves were singing all the day
A long way south of Claraghatlea the years have left me gray
And in this mostly sunny Southern Land my last remains may lay.

Youth Must Have It's Fling

The young lambs in the fields sport with the joys of Spring
When wildflowers are in bloom and wild birds chirp and sing
And brown lark lost from view is carolling on the wing
'Tis true so true indeed that youth does have it's fling
In the nearby park playground the children laugh at play
Enjoying their school free time in the sunshine of the day
Like the young lambs of the field so full of youth's elan
But the clock ticks on and on in time youth just a brief span
Perhaps the young lambs of the fields in a slaughter yard will die
Born as a source of food for such as you and I
And as for the children of the playground the young girl and the young boy
Time will have them walking slow their youth they must enjoy
Yes youth must have it's fling as some do like to say
Since time takes toll of all and it ticks and ticks away.

I'm Only Saying What I Know

I'm only saying what I know and that is nothing new
When I say the billionaires are scarce and the paupers are few
And that the homeless of the World in numbers do abound
Even in the known wealthy Nations they are not hard to be found
Between the haves and the have nots the gap growing ever wide
Of malnutrition and exposure far too many have died
Due to circumstance of birth and lady luck not on their side
Far too many sad to say of a fair go are denied
Poor people are dying in war zones, of malnutrition and disease
In the refugee camps of the World thirty million refugees
I am not a wealthy man still I'm lucky just the same
I could be homeless and alone without a penny to my name
I am luckier than most of such I am aware
In a World where billionaires are few and paupers are not rare.

On A Winter's Morning

A bank holiday monday morning in the old country town
Newly fallen dry leaves of yellow and brown
By the chilly winds blown along the sidewalks of the quiet street
Before Nature's cold breath they are forced to retreat
On the second week of June ten weeks from the Spring
The silver billed magpie the only bird to sing
No warmth in the sun on this cold Winter's day
Yet ten weeks in time will quickly tick away
Most shops closed for the day few people out and about
And the cold coastal wintery wind is blowing from north to south
A high of seven degrees and though the weather is dry
The dark clouds of rain are creeping through the sky
A forecast low of a chilly two degrees
And the cold winds denuding the deciduous trees.

It Cannot Be A Crime

I know yes I know it cannot be a crime
For to be addicted to penning of rhyme
But I who have penned more than more than I could wish to name
Is poorer than most are and still without fame.

Since for my penning efforts I don't receive pay
Some tell me I ought to give rhyming away
That is their opinion and that's fine with me
But without rhyming much poorer of soul I would be.

Though I am not a poet for poets are rare
The gifts I was born with amongst others I share
Without any pretention to local renown
Or to be even well known on my side of the town.

I've been penning rhymes since my physical prime
But that is going back more than three decades of time
Just for the love and enjoyment of it and nothing more
I only say here what I have said before.

Have You Ever Felt Nostalgic

Have you ever felt nostalgic for your old homeplace
Though nowadays there your's would be a stranger's face
And despite years of absence the memories remain
Of places and faces you will not see again
You've not been in the hometown for many a day
Though good memories of what was through four decades with you does stay
Those you went to school with like you are now showing time's decay
Time does not wait for anyone as some like to say
Since your younger years in the far away town
The hard roads of life you have been up and down
Time and distance has you far from where your life's journey began
But your fond memories of what was the decades do span
Far from your old hometown your best days long gone
And your biological clock keeps ticking on and on.

As On The Great Journey

As on the great journey of life we do go
We do make fifty friends for every foe
The law of average as some do like to say
For the average person life does seem that way
The baby starts learning from life before learning how to crawl
And before learning how to walk properly he or she often fall
We seem to age quickly time ticks on and on
And yesterday to the forever has gone
Some die very young some live to die old and some die in their prime
And eventually we all do lose out to time
For life is a journey that does have an end
We are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
That we are the life forms that do transcend death
Since of air we eventually will draw our last breath.

A Winter Day In A Southern Town

The last brown or yellow leaves from the deciduous trees fall
And in the sporadic sunshine not any warmth at all
And on the main street few cars driven up and down
On a chilly day in June in a southern town
Though brown stormwater flowing in the stormwater drain
The parkland as is the case green after rain
The cold nip of Winter in the chilly breeze
That plunder the beauty of the deciduous trees
But if Winter comes Spring is not that far behind
In the wisdom of Shakespeare such truth you will find
The wonders of Nature an amazing thing
Such changes to her landscape her Seasons does bring
In two months from now every songbird will sing
On bushes and trees at the coming of Spring.

So Pleasant Indeed

So pleasant indeed is the sweet scent of hay
In the warmth of the sunshine of a nice Summer's day
The air full of the buzzings of flies and of bees
In near perfect temperatures of twenty five degrees
Cattle at rest in the shade of the trees
And butterflies dancing in the gentle breeze
And everywhere I turn to look beauty I do see
Nature in her splendour is all around me
Such beauty that inspire artists to sketch and writers to write
Their stories and poems for to read and recite
So much about Nature for to love and admire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And every day of her we learn something new.

Partners For Life

In Park Lake Pertobe they live and they stay
And from each other they are never too far away
An old pale eyed crow and his ever faithful wife
'Twould seem to me that they are partners for life
Of people 'twould seem that they show little fear
Before they fly off to them you can come near
By the lower lake by the barbeque shelter them I often do see
In love with each other they do seem to me
How many broods they have raised I wouldn't know
But my wonder of their ways only seem to grow
The male with the female food even does share
Amongst Nature's creatures such things are not rare
In saying Nature never ceases to amaze me I mean what I say
And of her I learn something new every day.

Far Too Much

We never learn from the past it does seem that way
Still too much patriotism in the Human World of today
The praises of war heroes the war men do sing
Too much of anything is not a good thing
'Tis said from life the babe start learning before learning how to crawl
But from two World Wars we've not learned at all
That young men gave their lives in wars for our liberty
With such thinking I for one cannot agree
That war leads to peace more often than not is not so
The war supposed to end all wars ended nine decades ago
Wars for God and Land are still being fought today
We've not learned from the past that would seem fair to say
Far too much flag waving and nationalistic pride
And far too many people in war zones have died.

I Am Lucky To Be Living

I am lucky to be living I hear and read of every day
People I know or know of who from life have passed away
Some aged and some middle aged some quite young in their prime
Compared to some I'm lucky to be granted so much time
I am three years with the sixty what hair I have left is gray
And to all it is quite obvious I have known a better day
But I want to go on living for as long as I can
And die in my sleep a painless death as a very old man
Some that I went to school with now with the departed lay
Some in the local cemetery others in graveyards from the old town far away
All of our life's journeys were different them I never more will meet
We share one thing in common we are natives of Millstreet
Like every other mortal I too was born to die
But I love life and I fear death of that why should I lie.

As We Live We Do Learn

From more than six decades of living of knowledge little I have to show
Of life so little I realize I do know
Though people like me can be found everywhere
There are not many genuises in the big World out there
But life is like a teacher it does seem that way
And from her we do learn a bit every day
That is if we are open to knowledge of such we receive
As we live we do learn on that I believe
Though from our mistakes in life we learn to pay
Life is a great teacher that does seem fair to say
And though some of our mistakes can come at a huge personal cost
No use in lamenting life's opportunities lost
Yet as we live we do learn would you not agree?
At least anyhow that's how it seems to me.

June In Annagloor

The great gift of memory is a wonderful thing
Today in Annagloor the wild birds chirp and sing
And June has arrived with her beautiful flowers
That bloom in the old fields in the Summer showers
The buzzings of the nectar gathering wild honeybees
And the cattle at rest chewing their cuds in the shade of the trees
And the grey wagtail sings near where Cails waters flow
By their chirping or song birds one does come to know
I grew to love Nature in fields far away
A love that is mine for to enjoy today
And my walks in Nature today I do enjoy
As much as I did in far fields as a boy
When brown lark was carolling a musical speck in the sky
and above Annagloor the dark swallows did fly.

David Lewis Paget

In the Literary World one worthy of note
David Lewis Paget is surely a poet
His readable poetry will live on in time
He writes such great stories in memorable rhyme
To the old bardic tradition one who remains true
A poet of the masses for to give him his due
Through the medium of the internet with lovers of poetry his great gift he does share
A classical rhyme poet his type are now rare
In poetry's golden era he'd have been lauded as great
A poet for the masses for to celebrate
Writers like him are an asset to the Wordsmith Trade
'Tis true that poets are born and cannot be made
As a poet such a high standard he does attain
And his poems are worth reading again and again.

I Intend To Keep Penning

I never refer to myself as a poet
Nor am I one worthy of literary note
I first started writing when in my life's prime
And I am one who has penned many a rhyme
My worth as a rhymer I always do doubt
But always there's something for to write about
I only repeat here what I've said before
When I say I write for the love of it and nothing more
'Tis true about poets they are born not made
Though everyone needed in the wordsmith trade
Not everyone things of great beauty create
For not everyone as we know are born to be great
As for me I am just an ageing rhyming man
Though I intend to keep penning for as long as I can.

On Singing Honeyeaters

Familiar to many and familiar to me
The singing honeyeaters birds I often do see
They sing in duets on a bush or a tree
Though not the finest of songsters as most would agree
In her cup shaped nest of bark, grasses and rootlets bound with spiders webs the female bird lay
Two to three pale white to buff eggs with brown spots from view hidden away
From August to January in their breeding time of year
Though all year round birds one can see and can hear
Brown uppers and grey brown streaked unders and longish tail of reddish brown
Birds often seen in places where bushes and trees are and even in parks of the town
As well as nectar they eat spiders, moths, flies and arboreal insects and small bees
And other tiny life forms they find on the trees
Known as singing honeyeaters though not blessed with the finest song
But once seen and once heard one cannot get them wrong.

Corruption Through Greed

Corruption through greed does seem a common sin
In a Human World where one has to lose for another to win
In a fair go for all Planet this never would be
But few things are fair or so 'twould seem to me
Since we all look at life in ways differently
With what I say here many may not agree
Though each to their own as some like to say
You win some and lose some life does seem that way
That money speaks every language cannot be denied
The gap between the haves and the have nots keeps growing ever wide
There is no such a thing as human equality
And there will always be people in dire poverty
Most of the wealth of the Human World is owned by the privileged few
You might say to that tell us something that's new.

The Life Journey

Some in their homeplace their whole lifetime do stay
Whilst others migrate to Lands far away
Some die young and some live to grow old and gray
'Tis all in life's destiny as some like to say
The Reaper eventually claims the lives of all
The wealthy and famous to his scythe does fall
The woman on average by a few years outlives the man
But the longest lived human life in time not a long span
The journey of life one day has to end
We are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
We like to retain good memories of the past
But we grow old so quickly and time does go fast
The longest lived human life in time not a long span
So try to be happy and live for as long as you can.

June In Duhallow

The female robin she sits in her moss and leafy cup nest
With her five speckled eggs warming to life by the heat of her breast
As her partner the male sings on a nearby tree
Proclaiming the borders of her territory.

The grey wagtail sings near where stream rapids flow
On to the big river by the shady hedgerow
It's natural course towards the sea it does trace
Duhallow in June is a beautiful place.

Above the bogland a musical speck in the sky
The brown lark carolling as upwards he fly
His mate sits on her eggs in her grass nest on the ground
Well hidden from view where rank rushes abound.

Under the house eaves young sparrows chirp in their feather lined nest of hay
And swallows above the old fields all the day
Chasing flying insects in the Summer sun and breeze
On near to perfect temperatures of twenty three degrees.

A Final Farewell

A sad enough sound is the funeral bell
For some male or female a final farewell
Tolling in the belfry of the church nearby
It's slow peals echoing in the calm morning sky
The funeral bell tolls for you and for me
As a reminder to us of our mortality
The clock on our lives ever ticking away
It ticks on and on to our last night and day
The morning is pleasant and sunny and fine
And the silver billed magpie sings in the sunshine
To be ignorant of his mortality how lucky is he
His life's biggest worry is his territory
To proclaim his borders with passion he does sing
As the funeral bell for the dead person ring.

In Ireland June's A Lovely Time Of Year

In Ireland June's a lovely time of year
The curlew's flute o'er the bog one does hear
And little brown lark a musical speck in the sky
Is carolling sweetly as to the clouds he does fly
The scent of Nature's blossoms in the breeze
In pleasant temperatures of twenty plus degrees
Bluebells bloom on the ditch of the bohreen
And Nature's flowers everywhere to be seen
Contented cattle in lush grass to their knees
Laying chewing their cuds in the shade of the leafy trees
The beauty of Nature for all to admire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire
The robin's song melodious and clear
In Ireland June's a lovely time of year.

Of My Own Flaws

Of my own flaws I am all too aware
And what others say of me why should I care
My human frailties I never disown
The perfect person I've not yet met or known
As long as you do not lie of me that suits me fine
Since your opinions of me are your business not mine
To get in touch with the higher self you do not even try
Judge not and thou shalt not be judged to you too does apply
People like you are one does not meet everywhere
There are millions in the bigger World out there
Their negative attitude in words of putting others down
Does not endear them to many in their side of the town
As long as I am not lied about in any way
It matters none what others of me do say.

The Now Is All That Matter

It can be so true that the good times don't last
But we cling to our better memories of the past
Still to the father of time we eventually must bow
And we only can live in the here and the now
The future for us remains an unknown thing
Who knows what tomorrow for you it will bring
You may even win first division tattslotto wouldn't that be great
A reason to party with your friends till late
Our biological clocks they keep ticking away
And tomorrow one day nearer to our last day
Though everything for you did not go to plan
Try to be happy and do enjoy life whilst you can
For the now is all that matter and time ticking on
And yesterday to the forever has gone.

The Now Is All That Matter

Of Past Lives And Such

Of past lives and such I don't have an idea
We are born to die that's how life seems to me
Though on the Universal Karma I am one who believe
In life the fruits of the seeds we sow we do receive
In some form or other since 'tis Karma's way
For our sins against others the price we must pay
What goes around comes around does seem so true
We receive in turn what is only our due
Since none of their existence have come back to tell
Don't know what to say of an afterlife heaven or hell
Between agnosticism and atheism I am somewhere between
I can only believe in on what my eyes have seen
And it is a true fact and facts never lie
That us humans like all other life forms are born to die.

Doctors Differ

Doctor differ and patients die
In some cases not a lie
The side effects of prescribed drugs known to make people ill
And in some cases even kill.

Yet in many cases doctors save many from an early grave
Lives they have been known to save
And for their few failures them one can forgive
Since mostly due to doctors patients live.

Just the same as me and you
Doctors differ of course they do
You will not find two who on everything agree
That's how it is and will always be.

Of doctors it is often said
That their biggest mistakes are dead
And doctors themselves die one day
Such is life as some do say.

To Be A Good Person

She always has a happy smile on her face
The gray haired woman in her mid sixties from the far away place
Her grandchildren young adults her better days long gone
And the clock on her life it ticks on and on
Six years ago her husband left her for one younger which did not move her to tears
His unfaithfulness to her she had put up with for years
The love she had for him to indifference had grown
She feels happy to live and grow old on her own
One who does her good deed or two every day
To help those in need of helping she goes out of her way
Respect to the feelings of others she does pay
And a bad word about her you will not hear anyone say
To be a good person her claim to renown
The beautiful one from the far away town.

Maf And Thomas

Though the relationship between them will never be great
Maf the female chow chow and Thomas the cat getting on better of late
And though the miaowing of a cat on her nerves does grate
Karen and Peta's favourite moggy she has learned to tolerate.

Of Chinese canine ancestral royalty Maf to none does kow tow
A thoroughbred dog is the blue tongued chow chow
The purest of pure breeds in old Koroit Town
To be different to all bar her own kind her claim to renown.

On her loyalty Karen and Peta can always depend
But Thomas the cat will never be her friend
She no longer hates him as she did before
She just tolerates him that and nothing more.

Mistrustful of strangers to her breed she is true
But loyal to her friend that's to give her fair due
Though Thomas the cat not in her trusted few
One might say to that tell us something that's new.

Though Many May Not Agree

Though many may not agree with what I do say
For my sins against others to Karma I will pay
By some means or form or in some sort of way
I will pay in the future for my sins of today
The Universal Karma I do believe is for everyone
It will punish us for any wrongs to others we have done
And reward us in kind for our every good deed
Those who receive Karma's good fruits are those who plant the good seed
What goes around comes around I believe to be true
And our good or bad Karma it is only our due
Most of us look at life one might say differently
And what is true to you may not be so to me
But on the Universal Karma I am one who believe
And the Karma from life I do warrant is what I'll receive.

Late May In Knocknagree

Late May in the high fields of old Knocknagree
A male robin sings on a leafy birch tree
The cattle at rest in lush grass to their knees
Chewing their cuds on a sunny day of twenty two degrees
Duhallow has never been looking so green
And the wildflowers of Nature everywhere to be seen
The song of the male chaffinch so pleasant to hear
He does sing his finest at this time of year
A voice the people of the countryside know
The dipper does sing where the stream rapids flow
The skylark above the high rushy field sing
A beautiful place Knocknagree in the Spring
The hawthorns in bloom and the Summer days near
And the song of the throstle melodious and clear.

A Fountain Of Knowledge

Today she told me I feel I've been in luck
I did see a small flock of shoveller duck
Around these parts their species is known to be rare
Some of her knowledge of Nature with me she did share
Of late she said I've not been feeling that well
The years on me now are beginning to tell
The clock on my life it keeps ticking away
Though from Nature I learn something new every day
A fountain of knowledge of her one can say
And people like her one don't meet every day
The passing of time may have left her walking slow
But of poetry, Nature and life much she did seem to know
A beautiful soul I may not meet again
Though fond memories of her I'll surely retain.

I Never Will Give My Addiction Away

For many years I have been a rhyming buff
And I'm one of those who has penned heaps of stuff
And though not one of the few who does make rhyming pay
I never will give my addiction away
I've never referred to myself as a poet
Nor am I one worthy of literary note
But I enjoy rhyming of that why should I lie
As a rhymer I live and as a rhymer I'll die
Rat rhymes with cat and bee rhymes with tree
To rhyme is so easy as easy can be
I've been penning rhyme since nineteen seventy three
The love of the music in rhyme made a rhymer of me
My better days in life to the forever gone
But for as long as I can write I will keep penning on.

Connie McSweeney

Connie McSweeney was a good hard working fellow devoted to his family and his wife
He was well liked and he formed many friendships and he made the most of his great gift of life
He did not live on for to become an old man perhaps just a few years with the three score
He will be missed by all in Ballydaly in Millstreet Parish and his old homeplace in Cloghoulamore
He will be missed by his family and everyone who knew him a friendly bloke not hard to get to know
One can only hope he had a peaceful ending that death for him was not painful and slow
At least his suffering is now behind him his friends and family for him left to grieve
His mortal remains are in Nature's bosom the earth that feeds us our remains receive
His bones at rest by Cashman's Hill forever where many of the dead of Millstreet lay
The Reaper does not spare the life of any for all of us a final night and day
But what matter most Connie he was a good man I only say of him what is his due
The World was better for him living in it to the higher self he was one who was true
Young enough to die perhaps in his early sixties his bones in St Mary's Cemetery forever lay
In life he was a good and decent person what more of him can anybody say.

We Are What We Think We Are

We are what we think we are would you not agree
At least anyway that's how it seems to me
Though many may not agree with what I say
You are an outsider because you feel that way
The power of positive thinking will help you to achieve
If you do not have self belief from life little you will receive
Success always comes from self belief born within
Those without self belief in life never do win
Because I lack in self belief of that why should I lie
Perhaps I will struggle through life till the day that I die
Of negative thinking an example indeed
The positive thinkers are those who succeed
We do receive from life what we think is our due
I only say here what happens to be true.

He Hails From The Place

He hails from the place where the white scrub grass grow
The home of the wombat and the pale eyed crow
His hair that was light brown is now silver gray
And clearly he has known a far better day.

In his sixty second year to his deceased parents an only son
With one younger sister she is sixty one
Ten years ago his wife left him for a younger man for her he did not shed any tears
Since the love had gone out of their marriage for years.

Six times a grandfather he lives on his own
He will tell you life's good and life's bad times he has known
He has a casual relationship with an ex girl friend of his ex wife
A happy enough bloke he does enjoy life.

He hails from the countryside of the gray roo
The home of the galah and the white cockatoo
But he does not pine for his old homeplace far away
In the big coastal city he is happy to stay.

The Memories Remain

The Land of the roo and emu and pee wee
This great Southern Country is now home to me
But in my flights of fancy I hear and I see
The male robin singing on a silver birch tree.

My first lessons in Nature were in fields far away
I did love her then and I love her today
I got to know some birds by their chirping or song
Some voices of Nature one cannot get wrong.

The constant babbling of the silver tongued rill
That hurries downland from the field by the hill
By ditches and groves and many a hedgerow
On to the big river it ever does flow.

I grew to love Nature when I was a boy
And learning about her I still do enjoy
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And every day from her we learn something new.

The past may be gone but the memories remain
And in fancy I walk in the old fields again
The male chaffinch is singing as the sun goes down
On an evening in Spring in a grove by the town.

In The Late Southern Fall

The shufflewings gone north to places far away
They will not be seen here for many a day
They like to Overwinter in the warmer clime
They will be back home to breed in seven months time
The lessons of Nature for us are not few
Though every day from her we learn something new
And though of Nature's ways little we can claim to know
Our wonderment of her only seems to grow
The dark clouds of twilight across the gray sky crawl
On this calm evening in May in the late Southern Fall
The starlings to their roosting place in a tight flock do fly
And the pee wees do call in the parkland nearby
And the rumblings of the huge surf waves crashing on the shore
In the sea voice of Nature that is forever more.

The Negative Few

You may be a kind and caring person to humanity what's known as a god send
And to everyone you'd like to be a friend
For to help others out you go out of your way
One who does at least one good deed every day.

Yet not everyone respect to you will pay
And of you some even unkind things will say
Such people who find pleasure in words on putting others down
Their kind in every city and village and town.

Yet your attitude to life and to others to great things amount
And those who criticize you their opinions don't count
Show some a flowering garden only weeds they will see
Negativity is a kin of ignorance would you not agree.

Your equal as a person would be hard to find
And the Human World is in need of more of your kind
Though you do not escape the put down words of the negative few
One might say of that tell us something that's new.

The Roar Of The Ocean

Before the first skylark did take to the wing
And in the clouds above his breeding grounds did sing
And before the first flowers bloomed in the warmth of Spring
The rumble of the ocean was a familiar thing
Forever and in that I mean forever more
It's huge waves will splash on the rocks by the cliffs of the shore
From a gentle lapping sound to a rumble it's voice can quickly grow
How old is the ocean would anyone know?
Thousands of centuries before the first humans learned to walk upright
And from the woods ventured into the sunlight
The mighty surf waves were rumbling and foaming frothy spray
As they crashed on the rocks that protected the bay
It has inspired writers to story and rhyme
The roar of the ocean that's older than time.

In Some Ways We Pay

In some ways we pay for the success we do gain
There is no such a thing as a life free of pain
Before holding her newly born girl or boy
The birth pains for the mother preceded the joy
We do have our good times though good times do not last
And the clock on our lives does keep ticking on fast
And on ageing and death we do not have a say
For each one of us there's a last night and day
Even the wealthy and influential who command great power
Too fade to nothingness like the beautiful flower
That bloom in the garden in the prime of the Spring
When all of Nature's nesting wildbirds do whistle and sing
So fleeting indeed our life's physical prime
We quickly age and fade as we lose out to time.

Since I'm One Who Cannot Boast

Since I'm one who cannot boast of a literary degree
What is or is not poetry ask one other than me
I just pen rhyme for enjoyment that and nothing more
I repeat here what I have said often before
Literary experts will tell you a rhymer cannot be a poet
Only one of a minor local literary note
Aspiring poets are many though few make the grade
Still everyone is needed in the wordsmith trade
A local poet in every village and town
Who basks in the glory of local renown
Every local success in words they celebrate
At least by some they are looked up to as great
As for me I am what's known as a rhyming buff
An ordinary bloke who has penned reams of stuff.

Back There In Duhallow 'Tis Prime Of The Spring

Back there in Duhallow 'tis prime of the Spring
Lambs frolic in the high fields and the nesting birds sing,
On trees, bushes and hedges and on the ditch of every bohreen
Nature's own bluebells in clusters to be seen
The hawthorns cloaked in their blooms of white to gray
And the old fields resplendent in their wildflowers of the May
The cattle are thriving on lush grass to their knees
And the warm air is full of the buzzings of flies and of bees
Above the rushy field by the river the brown lark does fly
A musical speck in the gray afternoon sky
The cuckoo is calling in the woodland all day
Like the swallows they Winter in Lands far away
South of their birthplace in Ireland in the warmer clime
And return home to breed in the early Springtime.

Here In My Home From Home

To my old homeplace could not drive from here by car
And even to my homeland shores to go by plane seems far
Perhaps now I'd be a stranger there I am a migrant here
But memories of what was to me are ever near
In those old fields that first inspired me to rhyme
'Tis May there now the Spring is in her prime
The old fields lush and green from recent showers
And looking lovely in their Nature's flowers
With nesting borders to defend in Spring
On hedge and in leafy grove the wild birds sing
And the hawthorns in their blooms of white to gray
Old memories from the mind don't fade away
Yet I'd feel a stranger in my old homeplace today
So here in my home from home I am happy for to stay.

The Bird As We know

The bird as we know has his last song to sing
But for each of us like the bird there will be a last Spring
And our biological clocks do keep ticking away
Nature's Reaper on our lives does have the last say
We all do need something on which to believe
But the fruits of the sort of Karma we do sow will be ours to receive
The great power of Karma none ought to deny
What goes around comes around to all does apply
The greatest are mere mortals the facts never lie
That us humans like all of Nature's other life forms are born to die
The same for the pauper and the billionaire
A common fate in the end we all must share
The great tree of the forest eventually does fall
And what applies to the tree does apply to us all.

With The Huge Increase In The Human Population

With the huge increase in the human population in the World of today
The creatures of Nature to our kind must give way
Due to the destruction by us of their habitat many wild species becoming rare
Of living space we do take more than our share
Some people of Nature's resources take more than they need
The english word for such a practice is greed
Out of Nature's resources billions in money they do make
Yet they never give to her only from her take and take
Far too many trees for so called development have been cut away
For that in global warming that leads to droughts and famines we pay
Stories of more climate refugees we hear of and read
Our environmental practice to our own extinction to us well may lead
And despite humanity's many great achievements we fail to realize
That to abuse the one who clothes and feeds us is not clever or wise.

Do Not Knock Him

Do not knock him if in words you cannot give him his due
To his higher self he is one who is true
He is a far better person than you or I
Judge not and thou shalt not be judged is not based on a lie
Though to any God he does not kneel for to pray
To help others out he goes out of his way
In his words he never does put others down
People like him to live in does make this a far better town
On his side of the town not even well known
Not a member of any club but to each their own
Since he warrants respect such to him I will pay
And say nothing of him if good you cannot say.

Joe The Poet

It has been awhile now since Joe was in his prime
Some four decades of years that is going back in time
To be local poet laureate his claim to renown
The best of the better known poets of the town
He has been penning poetry for some fifty years
His poems full of human feelings joy, laughter and tears
In senryu, haiku, free verse and rhyme he does write
And at local poetry evenings his poems he recite
Seven times a grandfather this honourable man
For fifty years married to his soulmate Lee Ann
Devoted to him the great love of his life
He says than her one could not wish for a better wife
On his birthday in June he will be seventy three
The local poet laureate and prince of poetry.

Love's Not All Joy And Happiness

For loving someone truly the price can be huge to pay
That is how it is and that's how 'twill be for it has always been this way
The poets write about love the singers of it sing
Though few talk of unrequited love though there is such a thing
And even for true love that is mutual there are deep feelings at stake
And for one or for both parties it can end in heartbreak
Hatred in relationships more often than not is love turned upside down
Stories of ill feeling between those once in love in every village, city and town
Thousands of divorces and separations in the World every day
Between people who once loved each other deeply though love between them did not stay
People have been falling in and out of love for centuries of years
And love that brings joy and laughter can often end in tears
Love's not all joy and happiness just ask the divorced wife
She will tell you falling in love with her ex husband was her greatest mistake in life.