Growing Ever Wide

The gap between the haves and the have nots is growing wide by the day
And that does seem a sad thing for to have to say
So many must try to sleep without shelter tonight
In a World where some do have too much this doesn't seem right
The wealthy bloke takes out his family to dine
Four hundred for dinner and two hundred for wine
Six hundred dollars to him does not seem much at all
Between the haves and the have nots the difference is not small
The poor ageing woman that time has left gray
On her low income inflationary rent prices cannot afford to pay
Condemned due to her lack of money to live and sleep rough
Just one of the many who is doing it tough
That a minority does own most of the wealth does seem all wrong to me
But this is how it is and it always will be.

Far From The Noisy Streets

Far from the noisy streets of the big town
The creek from the mountains does wind it's way down
Through flat shrubby paddocks on it's sea going way
It babbles all night and it babbles all day
Out there in the World that to Nature belong
Home to emu and wombat and pied currawong
And roo and wallaby and pale eyed crow
The creek from the mountains it ever does flow
Ten k's from the big river or even more
That ever does flow to the saltwater shore
Where boobook in leafy cover from daylight does hide
In a small cottage there i would love to reside
And there amongst Nature and her wildborn kind
I would enjoy contentment and peace of mind.

Mother Nature

I first fell in love with Mother Nature as a boy in old fields far away
In time going back more than five decades and i still do love her today
The creator of flora and fauna she takes every life she does give
She never does cease to amaze me her i will love for as long as i live
The visual artists and the writers to creativity she does inspire
Of singing our Earth Mother's praises there are many who never could tire
Her wonders to say the least many and her secrets are not in the few
And every day of and about her we do learn something that is new
Without her we would not have water or vegetables or any meat
Or fish, grain or fruit of any sort or anything at all for to eat
Since she is the one who does feed us without her we could not hope to survive
Yet the love and respect we owe to her of her we see fit to deprive
She is the best friend that we do have the food of life for us she does grow
Yet we dig her ground for her treasures and respect to her we do not show.

On Donkeys

For one to be referred to as a donkey is not meant to be a compliment in any way
But these should not be seen as put down words  despite what the ignorant do say
In my days as a primary school goer of donkey ways i grew to know
Then i came to realize those who look on them as stupid their own lack of knowledge do show

On my way home from school one evening i caught a stray donkey on the road
One who belong to traveling people those of the no fixed abode
I mounted him without a struggle here was a free ride home for me
But to the traveler's old gray donkey mine was not a good idea

He trotted up to the nearest thorn hedge along the ditch of the roadway
And left my bare legs full of thorns to my surprise and my dismay
I dismounted him in quite a hurry that donkeys are quite clever i learned that day
With painful bleeding legs from pricks of thorns for my donkey lesson i did pay

Than being referred to as a donkey far worse things one you might call
For donkeys they are very clever in any way not dumb at all
When i was younger and foolhardy and lack of knowledge was my foe
I did learn how clever they can be more than half a century ago.

Jim C

Today in the park Jim C i did meet
A gray haired old fellow with gaps in his teeth
With a nod and a smile he bid me a good day
I wished him the same as he went on his way

In his prime the finest athlete in the town
As district champion miler he earned his renown
But that is going back half a century ago
And sad for him time it has become his foe

For one in his early eighties he seems fit to me
Quite sprightly indeed for one of eighty three
But compared to what it once was his fastest pace slow
As it is said the years on the best of them show

Today in the park i met old Jim C
As ever in good spirits he does seem carefree
The town's best athlete when he was in his prime
But that is going back some five decades in time.

He Is Mentally Tortured

He is mentally tortured by his inner strife
Another day out of his miserable life
The sadness that engulfs him for him hard to bear
Of any happiness in his life he does despair
For mental depression he is on medication life does have him down
He is one of the loneliest on his side of the town
Whenever i see him he seems close to tears
By all accounts he has been this way for years
Life for many in the twenty first century does seem hard enough
But to have to live with mental depression does make it more tough
Whoever said life can be sad was not telling a lie
He will be on medication till the day he does die
Each day he takes white pills to sedate his mind
One has to feel sorry for him and all of his kind.

The Beauty Of Birdsong

'Tis something i've loved since i was a young boy
The beauty of birdsong i still do enjoy
Each species of bird can be recognized by it's song
The bird by it's singing you cannot get wrong
The beauty of birdsong is a natural thing
In Nature's World 'tis the fanfare of the spring
Of singing their praises one never could tire
There is so much about birds for to love and admire
Their songs and splendid colours by Nature to them supplied
They bring joy to billions of people Worldwide
One does recognize the species of bird by the song it does sing
They are honoured as Nature's fanfare of the spring
Birds have inspired the artists and the makers of rhyme
And have evolved to what they are today over centuries of time.

New Wonders Around Us

My worth as a rhymer i never cease to doubt
But for anyone that way inclined so much to write about
New wonders around us to see every day
In life we never stop learning as some like to say
The world's greatest beauty we do not pay to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
Nature is quite amazing her wonders not few
And every day of her we learn something new
Centuries before the first creatures learned how to fly
Or the ancestors of the first humans looked on the lamp of the sky
She was around as she ever will be
And all of her life forms are born to mortality
And she has inspired me to pen doggerel
The stuff few do read and that i cannot sell.

When The Whales Come To Port Fairy

The gray clouds of winter in the southern sky
When the southern right whales come to Port Fairy with their calves in july
On East Beach the whale watchers assemble to see
From their binoculars the giant mammals of the deep sea
Magnificent creatures harmless to human kind
But for to harm them some men do seem all too inclined
To kill them for their oil as well as their meat
Though some will tell you the flesh of whale is not nice to eat
Saved from the endangered species list by the caring aware
But compared to what they once were their numbers now rare
School children with their binoculars were chuckling with delight
To see the whales up close to them was an amazing sight
A memory with them to keep of a beauty that is rare
That in some future time with their children they'll share.

According To D C

According to D C the young sad faced man
Not everything in life does go to plan
Since his wife to be left him heartache tears he has shed
Tonight she makes love in another man's bed
His hobbies drinking beer with his mates and discussing football
With him she had little in common at all
She fell out of love with him moved on in life
Now she is to become another man's wife
Since she walked out on him six months have gone by
To woo her back to him he surely did try
The ache of love in time from him will go
Beer is his comfort on his days of woe
Down at the pub with his mates they recall
Work and their love lives and greats of football.

No Country Safe To Live In

No Country safe to live in not in the World of today
After what has happened in Norway it does seem this way
Norway was considered one of the safest Countries to live in but not anymore
There are terrorists nowadays living Worldwide on every shore.

Due to a religious fundamentalists not right in the head
Many people injured and seventy six dead
For xenophobia that lead to hate crimes many with their lives pay
But who would expect this to happen in peaceful Norway.

In the recesses of the warped human mind great evil can reside
In the twenty first century terrorists to be found Worldwide
In terrorist attacks too many good lives are lost
Terrorism to humanity comes at a huge cost

In the warped human mind the seeds of hatred are sown
The terrorist attack in Oslo carried out by one of  Norway's own
Due to the hatred of one more than seventy good people died
So many hopes and dreams by him were destroyed.

That People Sell Their Souls for Money

That people sell their souls for money is happening Worldwide every day
Corruption due to greed is abundant whoever said crime does not pay
Criminals steal from the poorest of people and remorse for their crimes never show
Some people for to become financially well off are known for to stoop very low
In the Human World there are many good people though criminals too in numbers abound
In every town, village and city there are many crooks to be found
Too hard for them to steal from the wealthy they target the battlers instead
They sow the seeds of their bad Karma that they must reap in the years ahead
I only do have admiration for those who go out of their way
For to help people in need of helping they do their good deeds every day
They may not be wealthy and celebrated since they have no desire for fame
But they have the gift of compassion and a greater gift one could not name
Many do sell their souls for money and that so happens to be true
Yet sadly for them they are sowing the bad Karma which will be their due.

Though There Today

Though there today your's may be a stranger's face
You have not forgotten your first homeplace
Though you've not been there for years and from there live far away
Old memories remain fresh in your mind today
Some of the mentors of your young years are old frail and gray
And some of them in their eternal rest lay
You are not a stranger on the streets where you walk up and down
You have forged many friendships in your new hometown
Where you work for your livelihood and raise your family
And though happy the past it does live on in your memory
The great gift of memory is a marvellous thing
Past moments of sadness and joy it does bring
In the grove by your old home the nesting birds chirp and sing
In the memories you have of a far away Spring.

Brown Jack

He often gave chase to a hare in Jack the Master's bog
But the hare always easily outpaced brown Jack the working dog
He suffered an injury to his hind legs as a pup when a car knocked him down
On the roadway from Millstreet to Rathmore a mile from Millstreet Town

Due to his permanently twisted hind legs his fastest pace slow
But courage in abundance he had in him to show
In his many wars with other dogs which was a common sight
He always came out winning he never lost a fight

Quite good at working cattle not rough in any way
But no use as a guard dog it would be fair to say
That he was a people sort of dog he did love human kind
For to bark or growl at anyone he was not that way inclined

A strong and hairy fearless fighter for which he earned local renown
Though he never instigated a fight from a challenge he never backed down
Like every dog he had his day and time became his foe
And i have good memories of Jack though he died decades ago.

Perhaps I'll Never See Again

Perhaps i'll never see again the bluebells in the Spring
Blooming on the ditch of the bohreen or hear the chaffinch sing
When hawthorns are resplendent in their white blooms of the May
And Nature's flowers are blooming in old fields far away
Far north of this far southern town where i reside today
And only the memories of what was with me now seem to stay
The past has gone forever but the memories remain
And in my flights of fancy i walk in the fields again
The white breasted dipper is singing where the river rapids flow
And hidden in the rushes the shy cock pheasant crow
We only have the memories of days that are long gone
Time does not wait for anyone it keeps on ticking on
Still in my flights of fancy the robin's song i hear
And though the old fields may be distant in my thoughts they are quite near.

Black Tom

A sturdy black creature as black as a crow
Compared to a fast horse his fastest gallop slow
His big heavy hooves echoed on the tar road
But he was one who could pull a heavy load

Black Tom was a work horse quite stocky and strong
One who could work without tiring in the fields all day long
But he was one who was not known to be mild
Not one who would make a good pet for a child

In his temper tantrums he would kick and bite
A kick or a nip from a horse can be painful and make for an ugly sight
Tom was not a gentle horse in any way
One who did have his angry moods every day

His favourite food with hay mangels and fodder beet
Which he bit into with a crunching noise with his strong and sharp teeth
But back in the mid fifties in the pre tractor day
One who earned his keep of him one might say

He was far from gentle ill mannered and rough
But as a working horse he was good enough
And memories of  Black Tom with me do remain
As he pulled the horse harrow breaking earth clods for grain.

Hatred

This feeling known as hatred is such a vile thing
The praises of it you'll not hear many sing
'Tis something that does lead one to commit a serious crime
And spend the best years of life serving prison time
There is a vast difference between dislike and hate
The difference between them does seem to be great
Though 'tis from dislike that hatred does begin
In a hate crime for the perpetrator there is never a win
A festering grudge that does grow in the mind
To it's consequences hatred can be blind
Hatred is even far worse than ill will
Since the hated one the hater has been known to kill
One of the worst sort of feelings when all is said and done
Hatred it is not good for anyone.

You Can Make The World Better To Live In

You cannot make the world better to live in on your own you do say
But having said that you have a part to play
On making the big human world of today
Safer and better to live in you can lead the way
The length in time of the longest lived human life may not be a long span
But you can make a difference believe me you can
By being kind to others and help those of helping in need
So many of the problems in the human world are caused by greed
You are only responsible for your own every sin
But you can make the human world better to live in
By learning how to love and learning how to share
The human world in need of more good people though good people not rare
In your love of humanity through your kindness of heart
To make the human world better to live in you can play your part.

It Does Seem Lady Luck

It does seem lady luck is with me all of the way
In the nice people i get to meet every day
People i've met for the first time and never again may see
But a lasting good impression of them is with me
And though them i may never get to meet again
Good memories of them i am bound to retain
To meet a nice persom brings joy to one's day
And mental pictures of him or her with you to stay
Of just a friendly stranger you happened to meet
On your way to the shop at the top of the street
A beautiful person untainted by conceit or guile
With the warmth of sunshine in a lovely smile
Where-ever  such people are happiness to be found
They carry it with them and spread it around.

A Second Class Person

All people are equal black and white and brown
And a second class person are words used to put down
One who is poor and living on the poor side of the town
One who in life will never know of renown
To call anyone a second class person is a wrong thing to say
As it is always used in a derogatory way
By people who do like for to dehumanize
For any service to humanity such people never win a prize
A second class person there is no such a thing
Since the child of the pauper is born to die like the child of the king
No such a thing as a first class person since death equalize
Eventually by the reaper the tall poppies are cut down to size
A second class person put down words sad to say
That are too often used in the human world of today.

I First Grew To Love Her

I first grew to love her when i was a boy
The beauty of nature is a thing of joy
Her wonders are many her secrets not few
And everyday from her we learn something new
The beauty of nature we do not pay to see
'Tis all around you and 'tis all around me
One of the few things in life that does come for free
And that lives for one's lifetime in the memory
She does not have an equal than her none so great
The beauty and wonders that she does create
The goddess of land and the goddess of sea
Of flora and fauna and the wild and free
Her birds of song whistle on bush and on tree
And her beauty is everywhere all around me.

To My Own Self

To my own self i feel a stranger and all seem a stranger to me
On what i say do you see reason or with me do you disagree?
What makes us humans seem interesting is we all look at life differently
But then suppose if we all did agree on all things how very boring we would be
To myself i have become a stranger as a person i feel that myself i do not know
And even those that i am friends with apart from them i seem to grow
With them i share little in common perhaps they see me in the same way
The passing of time has not left me any wiser only looking older and gray
A stranger to my nearest and dearest and to people i meet every day
From living i've learned that the lessons of life don't come cheaply the price for them is big to pay
Even from those i have known for decades apart in our ways we have grown
I feel that to me they are strangers as if them i never had known
To my own self i feel a stranger and all seem a stranger to me
Which only does tell you about me how strange in my ways i must be.

From Old Claraghatlea

From old Claraghatlea i've been so long away
Perhaps i would feel a stranger there today
And to many there mine would be a stranger's face
Though i will always love it as my first homeplace

But the old fields to me surely would look the same
I recall many of them by their given name
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy

Old memories of my first home with me do remain
When the gray fog shrouded Clara one knew it would rain
And i fancy i can hear the silver tongued rill
As it babbles downland from the field by the hill

Where i grew to a man and where i spent my prime
The old place would not have changed with the passage of time
And where i often hunted with Pudsy the dog
In Con the Master's fields and in Matty Owen's bog

The people grow old but the old fields stay the same
I recall many of them by their given name
The mental picture of them i always find
When i search through the old memories in my mind

The years have left me looking older and gray
And i may feel a stranger in Millstreet today
But the old fields as they were would surely remain
And in fancy i often walk on them again.

Daydreams Are Just That

When i was much younger near a far away town
I often did daydream of literary renown
But daydreams are just that and seldom come true
And from penning rhymes fame and wealth is not my due

My best days in life to the forever gone
But true to my calling i keep rhyming on
Making rhymes has become an addiction with me
Though i am not a poet and one i never could be

The rhymer is one who enjoys penning rhyme
And to many that may seem a waste of good time
To the maker of rhyme enjoyment it does bring
It is not a chore but a pleasurable thing

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one who has written a whole heap of stuff
My thinking as such in rhyme words i express
And rhyming has brought me so much happiness.

The Climate Change Deniers

The Human World is full of Climate Change Deniers people on science who do not have a degree
People who know as little about climate as an ordinary person such as me
With the majority thinking of Environmental Scientists they do see fit to publicly disagree
Though of Climate Science they are quite ignorant as ignorant as ignorant can be
As for me one ignorant of Environmental Science the opinions of the experts i do not doubt
They are the people with degrees on the subject and they know what they are on about
People believe that due to Governmental action on climate that there will only be jobs for the few
On saying that due to voters fears Governments get kicked out of office  i am not saying anything that is new
But since our work practices help bring about Climate Change the Planet we live off of us cannot sustain
Governmental protection of jobs that give rise to pollution is not at all to humanity's gain
The Climate Change deniers may vote out the Government but for their stupidity their descendants will pay
If we keep on ignoring Nature's warnings extinction for our kind may not be that far away
In a Human World of many  Climate Changer Deniers one has to say that ignorance can be bliss
That it is to our detriment to protect jobs that cause Carbon Emissions is a point that they do seem to miss.

As Often In My Flights Fancy

I did spend my best years in Millstreet and in retrospect i recall
That it was a place of famous sports people in athletics and gaelic football
And though sports to many are important the best memories of Millstreet to me
Are of the landscape and waterways home to the wild and the free
The place where i grew to love Nature when i was a very young boy
And my many walks in the old fields were things that i used to enjoy
When to the warmth of Spring Clara Mountain did lose his Winter hat of snow
Where the rushes grew tall in the damp fields the male wild pheasant did crow
And cattle out of the farm sheds on winter of silage and hay
On nutritous young grass of lush pasture were putting on weight by the day
And the dipper did sing in the morning in the rapids of the silver tongued rill
That babbled it's way to the river from it's birthplace the field by the hill
And the familiar song of the chaffinch to this day with me does remain
As often in my flights of fancy i walk in the old fields again.

In The Town By The Sea

The good memories till death will be living in me
Of the beautiful town overlooking the sea
The sound of the waves splashing on the rocks of the shore
A sound that's destined to live forever more
Where mine years ago did become a known face
In the town by the sea such a beautiful place
The coastal people for their warmth are well known
They certainly do have a charm of their own
As hospitable as one could wish to meet anywhere
In the town by the sea one does feel at home there
Flying above the tide line piping melodious and clear
The pied oystercatchers i fancy i hear
And the silver gulls mew above the cliffs as they fly
As the sun it does set in the west of the sky.

Hypocritical Me

I hate to see life forms suffer the life forms for us who die
But on saying that i am hypocritical as i am one who lives with a lie
Since i too eat the cooked flesh of slaughtered birds, fish and animals which i must admit i enjoy
Eating for i have been a human carnivore ever since i was a young boy
For longer than i care to remember i have enjoyed eating fish and meat
Which too makes me a carnivore since other air breathing life forms i do eat
I cannot say that i am less guilty than the person who slaughtered those creatures for me
And when i say i feel sorry for the creatures i eat how hypocritical i must seem to be
I criticize the cruelty to the to be slaughtered creatures taking place in slaughter houses every day
Yet i am as guilty as the slaughterers though in an indirect sort of a way
I do not live by my convictions but in that i am not alone
I ought to leave it to the sinless person as the one for to cast the first stone
I hate to think creatures for me suffer once life forms slaughtered every day
But on saying this i do feel hypocritical though i'm not alone on feeling this way.

Old Jim

Old Jim likes to talk of when he was a young man
Virile, fit and healthy and full of elan
And of the women he made love to too many to name
Long before the passing of time left him weary and tame

He fathered one daughter from a brief affair
One who grew into a pretty young woman with chestnut brown hair
But the role of her father did not go to him
But to the husband of the woman he made pregnant who helped to raise the biological child of Jim.

Though he has made love to many women in his life
Jim in his mid seventies never had a wife
An ageing diabetic the years have left gray
He does not have a woman to love him today

On Saturday night with a few drinks in at the pub Jim does talk of the past
But for him like all the clock ticks on too fast
In his prime he made love to many young women of the town
And as the lover supreme he earned local renown.

It Does Suit Me Fine

What others think of me it does suit me fine
Since that is their business and their business not mine
I have been praised by some and by some harshly criticized
At the words of others i try not to be surprised
For to like the praises of others is such a natural thing
It is a feel good feeling when others your praises do sing
I too do not like it when others criticize me
But such feelings are human as human can be
It does make us feel good when others us do praise
To be recognized in a good way to our spirits a raise
Yet what others say of me i take in my stride
And though criticism is a small dent to my pride
In life you win some and lose some as the wise one did say
That is how it is and 'twill always be this way.

I Would Love To Go Back

I would love to go back to the place by the hill
Back to where the clear silver tongued mountain rill
On to the big river with a babble does flow
Through fields and by ditches and by grove and hedgerow
Back to where the rushes in clusters do grow
In the home of the badger and silver back crow
Where i grew to love nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
The skylark a musical speck in the sky
Does fade out of view as towards the clouds he does fly
And the song of the robin in fancy i hear
On a leafy birch tree in late Spring of the year
The past may be gone but the memories remain
I would love to go back to the old fields again.

The Millstreet Rovers

Duhallow old timers to this day recall
That they played for love of music that was all
Though their's was far more than local renown
Back when they were the pride of Millstreet Town

They formed their band when some of them were past their prime
Yet the memories remain undimmed by time
Of the Millstreet Rovers though the life from them long gone
In Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra in spirit they live on

John Radley, Patrick Looney and Bill Brien
Age did not weary them they matured like good wine
And Jerry Kavanagh, Denis O Keeffe and John Sing
To so many so much joy they did bring

In Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra famed and known
In their music the seeds of joy were sown
In dance halls in Newmarket and Kanturk and In Rathmore
At every last dance for them a huge encore

Great musicians they were born to entertain
Around the Cork and Kerry border good memories of them remain
In every village and in every town
Where they achieved the status of renown.

On The News Of The World

Rupert Murdoch's empire is in trouble but he doesn't care
Since after all old Rupert is a multi billionaire
His great newspaper The News Of The World no longer to be published due to scandals in galore
But despite all of this his empire will survive as it has done before
That Rupert has known better times this well may be so
And he is one who is not without a foe
And Rupert Murdoch must die but it will not be of hunger that much we do know,
Due to corrupt journalism and phone tapping and bribery
Britain's biggest selling newspaper The News Of The World is now just a memory
But for the loss of his biggest selling newspaper Rupert Murdoch will not weep
A small thing like that will not keep him from sleep
The billionaire octogenarian has enough of money for to buy a big town
And a small thing like this would hardly get him down.

What We Dislike In Ourselves

The flaws in others that seem obvious to me
Are the flaws in myself that i do not wish to see
Whoever first said that was one who was very wise
Our weaknesses from others we try hard to disguise
And few of us our weaknesses ever do own
Though to others those weakenesses are quite well known
What we do not like about ourselves we try our best to deny
Suppose that is the ego in us and ego to all does apply
What we do not like in ourselves from others we try to hide away
The true self to the world few ever do portray
That is how it is and it always will be
What we dislike in others in ourselves we do see
Though our weaknesses to others do become known
What we dislike in ourselves few of us wish to own.

When Last I Saw Old Clara

When last i saw old Clara he wore his hat of snow
And Finnow from the high ground with a loud babble did flow
Bank high in fields of Inchaleigh and Claraghatlea in flood waters of brown
On it's way to the Blackwater just west of Millstreet Town

The sun does seldom ever shine on an Irish winter day
And the frosted fields of morning in their december gray,
Since last i saw old Clara twenty five years ago
I have grown older but not wiser and time has become my foe

Migrant redwings from the Northlands chirped on the bare hedgerow
And cattle for fodder in the farmshed did bellow
The deserted fields echoed to the cawing of the gray backed crow
And from Caherbarnagh the wind with a chily breath did blow

The stream swollen by recent downpours with babbling tongue that's never still
Went splashing bank high to the river from it's birthplace the field by the hill
And Clara in white hat of winter stood silent above Claramore
As i left the fields of Duhallow for the sunny far southern shore.

Till My Life's Last Day

I am getting on in years six decades and four
And i write for enjoyment that and nothing more
An addictive rhymer i have penned heaps of stuff
For many years i have been a rhyming buff
I never do fancy myself as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
And though my better days to the forever gone
I do enjoy rhyming and i will keep on rhyming on
Until the reaper does claim the life's breath from me
In the not distant future whenever that be
I penned my first verses when in my life's prime
And for close to four decades i have been penning rhyme
And what i so love doing why should i give away
I will be a rhymer till my life's last day.

Quite Different To Mine

Your values in life are quite different to mine
And in your social circles i could not afford to dine
A wealthy developer on your side of the town
When your workers clear land for development many old growth trees they cut down
You say that the birds and animals you dispossess can go to live elsewhere
That there are plenty of more trees and bushes in the world out there
But on what you say on that only goes to show
How little about Nature you do seem to know
That most birds and animals are territorial you do not seem to realize
But that after all comes as no big surprise
Since your type see land for development as quite a good thing
And of the praises of Nature you could never sing
With your way of thinking i could never agree
For what you think is great seems destructive to me.

On Happiness

The billionaire the impressionable never fails to impress
Though it is true money cannot buy one happiness
And happiness it is not out there to find
It lives and it blooms in the individual mind
Money can buy a house or a big boat or an expensive car
And money in life always does take one far
And money has even kept people from jail
But it cannot buy one happiness that is not for sale
No not for all of the world's money or for all of the world's gold
Happiness is one thing that cannot be bought or sold
And though the praises of money many are known to sing
Money can buy one a lot but not everything
It cannot buy peace of mind, health or happiness
Though the impressionable it never does fail to impress.

No Surprise

It should come as no surprise
That those quick to judge and criticize
Any criticism of themselves do find hard to bear
And of their own feelings only seem aware
That others too have feelings they fail to realize
And therefore they cannot seem to empathise
With those they verbally put down
As the unworthy people of the town
The judgemental are not rare one meets them every day
To reflect negatively on others is their way
A reason for their poor attitude in life 'twould seem
Is that they themselves suffer a sense of low self esteem
And that others too have feelings they fail to realize
Is not in the least bit a surprise.

Going By The Weather Forecast

Going by the weather forecast of today
A cold and a wet weekend is on the way
A low of a very chilly three degrees
That is just above the point of freeze
Cold wintery showers and the cold winds blow
'Tis cold enough even for to snow
The river bank high in flood waters of brown
Is flowing at a snail's pace to the sea by the coastal town
Though soon the nesting magpies in the night will sing
And every day one day nearer to the Spring
July in mid Winter the coldest and wettest time of year
Though the balmy weather of Spring is drawing near
And soon the magpies will sing through the late Winter night
Their pleasant music echoing in the moonlight.

The More I Think I Know

The more i think i know the less i know i know that is how it is with me
Of life and it's many complexities i feel as ignorant as cane be
I envy those who think they know it all their knowledge is complete
And their kind to say the least not rare them i do often meet
Yet i wish that i were like them since then i would not know
That for my many years of life little in knowledge for it i have to show
So much to learn in so little time the clock on my life ticks away
It cannot be many years for me till my life's final day
Of life's ways i'm almost ignorant though not ignorant enough to know that ignorance can be bliss
If you do not know what i am on about the point i am trying to make you miss
Everyday from the book of life i do learn something new
Suppose in that way one might say i am not one of a few
The more i know the less i know i know that is how it is with me
In life we learn from what we read and from what we hear and see.

On Mick Kissane's Illness

A mutual friend did ring me with some sad news to tell
It is now public knowledge  Mick Kissane is not feeling well
In his life's greatest battle far south of old Kenmare
A battle that he will win for men like him are rare

They make them tough in Kerry and than him none more tough
And in his greatest battle he will prove good enough
And though he's getting on in years and his better days long gone
This cancer will not kill him he will keep living on

An old patron of the Basy Pub there he has drunk many a beer
There he is well known and he enjoys the bar-room atmosphere
He has lived in Mt Evelyn for many years where his friends in numbers have grown
In his part of Victoria than in Kenmare nowadays he is better known

Big Mick Kissane not feeling well of late by illness knocked about
But as a fellow who loves life he is down but not out
He is determined to live on and to life he will cling
And for him the reaper will have to wait this will not be his last Spring.

The Battleax

She live up to her nickname of The Battleax
As she does rule the household and her husband Max
He is under the thumb as some like to say
She issues the orders and he does obey
Their two sons in their early twenties from them live far away
Out there in the big world working for their pay
And as for hard working Max he does not enjoy life
At the beck and call of his domineering wife
She take his wage packet from him every friday night
Which he hands over to her with never a sign of fight
He doesn't drink alcohol or tobacco doesn't smoke
From years of domination his spirit is broke
She lives up to her nickname of The Battleax
As she does rule the household and her timid man Max.

I Am Not What You Would Call

I am not what you would call a success but i never do beat my wife
And i am one not lacking in humor i do enjoy my gift of life
You laugh and the whole world laughs with you but you always cry on your own
A quote from some very wise person and one that is very well known
It does not cause me any worry if i die without a penny to my name
Since in death one does not need money and in death one does not need fame
I could do with a little more money though i seem to get by okay
I'd love for to live for many more years and live happy untily last day
I've never wished for to harm anybody i just wish to live and let live
And if one of help is in needing to him or her help i will give
On saying this i do not wish to sing my own praises i only wish to live as a good man
And improve myself as a person and live as good as i can
Live for life's journey it is a short one and too soon it comes to an end
I have no wish to make an enemy but i'm always glad to make a friend.

If There's A God

If there's a god that god is for all people and not for any single race or creed
And that god would not condone hypocrites and the untrustworthy who cheat others to satiate their greed
Though they may go to their house of worship and with their congregation kneel to pray
You do not have to worship a god if you have a god in you though many would disagree with what i say
If there's a god that god lives in an atheist if the atheist happens to be good and kind
I believe that the true god is not out there but living in every good person's mind
Religious belief does never make a good person as the good in a person it is born within
For one to not believe on a universal god or in a life after death should never be considered as a sin
Your ideas of god to mine are very different with my way of thinking you do not agree
But your religious beliefs surely not my business and what you believe in is okay with me
Each to their own belief is how i see it and you and i see life quite differently
But then again if we all agreed on all things how very boring all of us would be
If there's a god that god lives in all good people and not in a far kingdom in the sky
But that is only my humble opinion and my beliefs to me only apply.

Wintery July

The winds of july do blow with a wintery chill
Across the coastal lands and above Tower Hill
And soughs in the bushes and soughs in the trees
A forecast high for the day of just thirteen degrees
On the drenched coastal paddocks surrounding Koroit Town
The wind driven wintery showers bucket down
From drought to heavy flooding the weather acting strange
Suppose this is what does occur in times of climate change
The yellow eyed dark birds with rain in their song
One cannot mistake them the pied currawong
They come to the coastal lands in the coldest and wettest time of year
You know it is winter when them you do hear
The wind driven showers falling from the gray sky
On the coastal country in wintery july.

Just To Be Living

The sky overcast more rain is on the way
But for me it has been a wonderful day
My mood it is brighter than it has been for some while
I am living and healthy a reason to smile
The funeral bell rang today for a local millionaire
In some ways a poor bloke one harassed by care
In his early forties the cancer that killed him was brought on by stress
He became one more statistic of unhappiness
From his wife and teenage son and daughter one forever gone
They will grieve his passing but life will go on
His money is useless to him where he lay
'Tis great to be living is all i can say
The passing of anyone i could not celebrate
But just to be living the feeling is great.

Mrs B

Since her eldest son John told her he is gay
Conceited and homophobic Mrs B happy to hide away
From people she know and who know her on her side of the town
She feels by her own son she has been brought down
She does not like gay people something she has publicly made known
But now that she has a gay son of her own
That one of her children is living with mortal sin
Has left her feeling that the world on her has fallen in
She cannot bring herself to go to church on sunday
The shame she feels compels her to hide away
From the world out there she has only felt this way once before
Twelve years back when her husband Bill left to return to her never more
Since her son told her news she did not wish to hear
From the world out there she is hiding in fear.

Before The Baby Walk

Before the baby walk the baby has to crawl
And the baby rise again after a fall
And on the life's journey pitfalls on the way
Some new challenge we have to face every day
For many life is not easy i say what is true
And to those who say we only receive the rewards we are due
I only can say i see it quite differently
At least anyway that's how it seems to me
I believe that the accumulation of wealth often can come about by chance
As most people can become wealthier given the right circumstance
But for the offspring of poor parents on the poor side of the town
It does seem a long hard road to wealth and renown
And since the gap between the haves and the have nots keeps growing ever wide
Many must feel they do not have god on their side.

There Are People

There are people you feel sorry that you've ever met
And people you are never likely to forget
And there are those who to you so much of their love do give
And them you will love for as long as you live
There are young friends you had who are your friends today
Your true friends as your true friends remain though you've grown old and gray
At the pub or the park, shopping centre or on the street
There are people you always feel happy to meet
And there are people you've known you never again wish to see
How can you appreciate a friend if you do not have an enemy
People come to and go from your life but your friends as your friends stay
For as long as you live till your very last day
Yes your friends will be with you when push comes to shove
And those you cannot trust are those you cannot love.

Dougie Young

Wilcannia's Dougie Young was a singer songwriter one can say of him he was a natural poet
Out of his songs he never became wealthy  though he was one who was a man of note
A talented Indigenous Australian he was a credit to his tribe and race
As one of the great singer songwriters in life he knew fame far from his homeplace
A singing poet though life for him was never easy here is a man we ought to celebrate
He lived his songs and his songs are still living a natural genius beauty he did create
The wandering minstrel of the warmer country his travels took him far from home to entertain elsewhere
And his songs now sung far distant from Wilcannia in pubs and clubs of the bigger World out there
Though long deceased the songs he wrote still living and somewhere in some pub or club tonight
A singer will sing some of  the better known songs of the Indigenous man whose soul was full of light
He lived the songs he wrote than him none greater the pride of famous old Wilcannia Town
A credit to his tribe of First Australians and one who deserves far greater renown
It is my pleasure for to sing his praises for his praises surely deserve to be sung
His songs live on as a testament to his greatness Wilcannia's one and only Dougie Young.

A Budding Young Artist

He is not into sports in any way
Nor he's not a member of any club
One can say he's not a group type of a person
And you never see him at the pub

He is one in his early twenties
He does not have a girl friend or a wife
Yet he is a budding young artist
And art is his only passion in life

He likes sketching wild-life birds and animals
The best Nature Artist of the town
Yet he is not widely known as an artist
And he does not even know of local renown

He is not into drinking and gambling
Or any sorts of sports including football
He just wants to be a good Nature Artist
Compared to some his life's dream does seem small.

Mt Eccles In July

On the trees on the volcanic cliffs of Mt Eccles above Lake Surprise
Pied currawong the dark birds with yellow eyes
Are singing they often do sing before rain
Their song from once heard you'll recognize again
From the bowels of Mt Eccles many centuries ago
The rivers of fire in hot lava did flow
And though volcanic rocks on nearby paddocks as signs of volcanic eruptions lay
No rivers of fire on Mt Eccles today
Either calling for a mate or proclaiming territory
A male koala grunting on a manna gum tree
In Mt Eccles ten kilometres from MacArthur the nearest Town
On a winter's day as the rain drizzles down
The dark clouds of rain gathering in the gray sky
Above old Mt Eccles in wintery July.

The One To Claim Never To Have Lied

The one to claim never to have lied is lying it does seem to me
For i cannot but only feel wary of the one who proclaims his or her honesty
By telling others you are honest that a lie never once passed your mouth
By your own lie on your honesty you are putting a doubt
By saying  you never told a lie your own self you deceive
For in your more than dubious statement anyone does not believe
A truly honest person is one i have yet to meet
Only a living saint would be untainted by deceit
The cynic in me causes me to doubt the one who has never lied
I do feel that such a person may have something to hide
When i say that we are all capable of telling lies that does not make a popular man of me
As most with that sort of reasoning i am sure would disagree
'Tis true enough as mortals us human beings are born to die
And on our life journey everyone of us do tell more than one lie.

Even For The Voluntary Migrant

You left your first homeplace as a young person for adventure and self betterment elsewhere
But even for the voluntary migrant 'tis tough in the big world out there
It does take a whole pile of courage to venture into the unknown
Away from your friends and your family life's challenges to face on your own.

The happy at home are so lucky at home quite contented to stay
The wanderlust does not affect them they never yearn for places far away
At home they find love and raise their children and at home they do grow old and gray
And at home they feel happy with their lot and at home they will live their last day.

Life's not easy in their new Country as most migrants come to realize
They wake before daybreak every week morning to dress for work before sunrise
For a migrant not easy for to forge new friendships on saying that i'm not saying what is new
Back home they were known to so many and back home their friends were not few.

You will not be going back to your first homeplace though nostalgia with you does remain
And often in your flights of fancy you meet with your erstwhile friends again
Life's not easy for the voluntary migrant but harder by far for the refugee
For one who has fled persecution and does know of dire poverty.

The Rose Of Koroit

She possess all of the assets that will lead her to renown
The dark haired brown eyed beauty the Rose of Koroit Town
Not into self importance and free of self conceit
She says hello to everyone as she walks on the street
Known as the Rose of Koroit she is worthy of the name
But she is destined for greater things for a far greater fame
Always happy and smiling one who is never rude
As well as unrivalled beauty she has a great attitude
The wanderlust is in her the world is to be seen
For one so young and beautiful who has just turned eighteen
Like the migratory swallow in Koroit she will not stay
For the yearn it is in her for places far away
From Koroit in Victoria fourteen kilometres from Warrnambool
Where she first saw the lamp of day and was raised and went to school.

I Do Not Like Everyone

I do not like everyone and everyone does not like me
This is how it is and it always will be
Not everyone you know to you is a friend
Since all people not trustworthy why otherwise pretend
I never met one i did not like Will Rogers used to say
I wish i could look at life in his way
The good in humanity he only see
He was far greater as a person than cynical me
Perhaps i am one who does suffer of low self esteem
As i project my feelings on to others 'twould seem
But in that one might say i am not alone
Leave the one without sin for to cast the first stone
No i do not like everybody i know
Like and dislike in opposite directions do grow.

Koroit Near Tower Hill

In Koroit nice people are not hard to meet
You will not feel a stranger there on any street
The people there have earned their place in renown
By making their home-place a welcoming Town
Koroit near Tower Hill with links to the Irish Race
A Town where a stranger would not feel out of place
In Mickey Bourke's Pub or The Commercial Hotel
The pub patrons treat you as one they like and know very well
They come up to you and bid you a good day
As they would a long absent friend home from far away
As a place of welcomes it is widely known
Koroit in Victoria has a charm of it's own
And though you may be a stranger one from anywhere
You can feel assured of a great welcome there.