July Far Away

In the blue sunlit sky just a few clouds of gray
And the sweet scent of grass mown for silage or hay
And the swallows chirp in pursuit of flying insects as they do every day
Above the old fields in July far away

In the sunshine the children laugh as they splash water in the river pool
Enjoying their holiday week free of school
The sound of young laughter a pleasant thing to hear
In Summer a beautiful time of the year

The fields and the groves lush and leafy and green
When Nature at her very finest is seen
And contented cattle lay chewing their cuds in the shadow of the trees
In near to perfect weather temperatures of around twenty degrees

In the clear river pool the dappled brown trout
Enjoying the sunshine lazily swimming about
Of most land life forms quite fearful and shy
They quickly swim to the cover of the reeds when they sense danger to them nearby

And white butterflies seemingly dancing in the warm breeze
That gently rustle in the green and glossy leaves of the trees
And the sweet scent of grass mown for silage or hay
Wafts to me in the breeze from meadows far away

A Voice From Once Heard

A voice from once heard that one should never again get wrong
The familiar karrawang calls of the pied currawong
They can be heard calling in flocks at any time of year
And often when you hear them singing you know rain is near
On the nestlings of smaller birds they are known to prey
And farmers and gardeners and orchardists of them never have nice things to say
Since of noxious weeds such as mistletoe and prickly pear they eat the fruit and seed
And in so doing introduce in their droppings many an unwelcome weed
But currawong were centuries in Australia before noxious weeds with Europeans came
And birds for what they do eat are surely not to blame
For noxious weed infestation since humans introduced them from elsewhere
Most plants in their natural environment ought to be left there
When the currawong call in flocks one can safely say
That the storms that bring heavy rain are not far away.

One Can Say That Prison Is Full

One can say that prison is full of his kind
And that soon to be the address of the one with the criminal mind
He stole from a poor old lady the three hundred dollars in savings she's had
He is following in the footsteps of his criminal dad
A chip of the old block of him one might say
He models himself on dad in every way
His dad is in prison for quite a long time
Serving out his sentence for serious crime
The dad not responsible for the crimes of the son
Since he himself is paying for the wrongs he has done
And by stealing from an aged pensioner her money for bills to pay
He did not cover himself in honor in any way
He is not a twenty first century Robin Hood
As his crime was not for any poor person's good.

The Only Immortal

The greats of human history to life have come and gone
But life in the World without them goes on
Though they did leave their marks in human history
Like all of us they were born to mortality
But Nature lives on her own life she does create
She has the power in her to self generate
She hibernates in Winter and awakes in the Spring
When her wild born birds build their nests whistle and sing
Like all of Nature's life forms us humans are born to die
The facts tell us this and facts do never lie
Nature the mother of life for her dead never shed tears
She just gives birth to new life as she has done for millions of years
Nature is the only immortal that does seem fair to say
Since for all others there is a last night and day.

The Brown Creek From The Mountain

Through old scrubby paddocks that often look brown
That borders the outskirts of the country town
The brown creek from the mountain by night and by day
Babbles to the big river to the ocean from it's home far away
An old waterway in time very old
From the scrub clad hills where men once mined for gold
Very old in the age of the dinosaurs and the Dreaming-time
The inspiration of song and of story and rhyme
Through the land of the emu and sulphur crested cockatoo
Where in Seasons long gone Australia's first people hunted kangaroo
Since then many Seasons have come and have gone
But the brown creek from the mountain it keeps on babbling on
To the big river to the ocean shore
It has flowed forever and will forever more.

It Is Only In Fancy

It is only in fancy now i can hear a cow
Lowing in an old field by the River Finnow
On a balmy evening in July before sundown
In the green countryside just west of Millstreet Town

The great gift of memory it is a wonderful thing
And it is only in fancy i can hear the robin sing
In the warmth of the sun on a leafy birch tree
The memories of what was are living in me

I can only visualize my youthful elan
In the far away place that i became a man
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy

It is only in fancy i can hear the silver tongued rill
Babbling in the moonlight down the field by the hill
On it's way to the river to the sea far away
In a voice never silent by night or by day

And only in fancy of late i have seen
Nature's primroses, snowdrops and bluebells on the ditch of bohreen
When the hawthorns are cloaked in blooms of white to gray
And the old fields are in their wildflowers of the May

And the contented cattle chewing their cuds on lush grass do lay
In the warmth of the sun on a pleasant Spring day
Memories of the past of the forever gone
And the now is all that does matter and life does go on

Yes the past it has gone and only the memories remain
Of what used to be but cannot be again
In the backyard i am returned to the present by the song of the pee wee
A bird of the now i often hear and see.

Liam O Driscoll

As nice a person as one could wish for to meet
For as long as i can remember Liam O Driscoll had lived at Lackabawn in Millstreet
Though one who was many years past his prime day
It is so sad to read that he has passed away
A man who must have lived for at least eight decades of years
One in passing by friends and family farewelled in tears
One never more to be seen again walking up and down
The old streets of Millstreet his beloved Hometown
A likeable fellow to many well known
Liam O Driscoll he was one of Millstreet's own
And of him it would only seem fair to say
That he was a good person in every way
From life's suffering and cares in death there is peace
And hope from life that he did have a painless release.

A Rhymer I Will Be

My best days in life to the forever gone
But true to my life's calling i keep rhyming on
And though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
Never a shortage of things for me to rhyme about
From life and Nature we learn new things every day
We do learn until we die it does seem this way
And though so little of her i can claim to know
My wonder of Nature only does seem to grow
In the mid Winter sky dark clouds through the gray
And rain it does seem is not that far away
But weather apart one can only say
That in life we should make the most of every day
For longer than most i have been a rhyming buff
And i am one of those who has penned reams of stuff
If i said i write poetry that would be a lie
A rhymer i will be until the day i do die.

I Dream Of A World

I dream of a world where none wish for renown
Or where none does desire to be best in the town
And where everyone lives in perfect harmony
Perhaps i do dream of what never may be

I dream of a World where war is unknown
And where we treat those different to us as we would one of our own
In a near perfect Human World this is how it should be
But near perfection seems distant from reality

I dream of a World that is free of any sort of strife
But in my dreams am i asking too much of life
In a Human World where many feel lost like a leaf in a stream
Of a better tomorrow one does need to dream

I dream of a World where everyone are equal and treated as the same
And where everyone does know of wealth and of fame
And where there are no such things as enemies or foes
It is nice to dream one would have to suppose

I dream of a World where love, peace and joy reign supreme
We all need to dream of such things it does seem
In a Human World where millions of people live in dire poverty
We do need to dream of good things would you not agree?

That Most People Are How You Treat Them

That most people are how you treat them does seem fair to say
At least anyhow to me it does seem this way
You treat people well they will treat you in kind
In my dealings with most people this i do find
Of course there are exceptions as this is always the case
Since fairness to a minority does seem out of place
The people who like to take more than they give
And are not into the practice of live and let live
I do meet different races of people every day
And the majority of them do treat me as okay
But amongst every grouping there are always a few
Who are not fair minded this is nothing new
But having this said few of us without taint
In a World of billions of people the rare one is a saint.

We Dislike In Others

We dislike in others in what in ourselves we do see
The words of a wise one would you not agree?
Though this is not always it seems fair to say
In some cases anyhow it is this way
And though with the wisdom of the wise one i cannot disagree
I do not dislike everybody with similar flaws to me
And since on psychology i am not one who has a degree
I really do not have a clue why this should be
Of the praises of those we admire we do sing
But with those we dislike it is a different thing
Suppose there is always one in words to drag you down
This does even happen to the nice people of town
In life as in  all things we receive our due
And that dislike is a two way thing only too true.

De Valera And Collins

Of their imprint on the history of Ireland they cannot be denied
But De Valera and Collins were known to divide
Even family members in Ireland's civil strife
When many people died in a tragic loss of life

And though their supporters their praises may sing
Collins and Dev no joy to Ireland did bring
Their legacies in bitterness lived on for years
They brought to a small Nation death, suffering and tears

As a young man in Ireland's civil war Michael Collins died
And Eamon De Valera lived to become very famous and known World-wide
As Irish Taoiseach and President he reaped the rewards of his fame
To be a De Valera in Ireland is to have a great name

A deep impression on the history of Ireland they made
But in the shadow of Gandhi they do seem to fade
Since by passive resistance himself into history he did write
And the people of India to achieve self Government through peaceful means did unite

One died young under gunfire and the other lived to be famous and old
De Valera and Collins their stories in book form told
And since from life for all of us a final release
One can only hope for them in death they found peace.

Happy Go Lucky

From him care and worry does seem far away
The one known as happy go lucky does laugh every day
He does not have children or he does not have a wife
Yet he is a fellow who does laugh at life
In his late twenties he enjoys a casual sexual affair
With a beautiful brunette in her early thirties with shoulder length wavy hair
After a a meal and a few drinks at the weekends their sexual needs they satisfy
The pleasures of the flesh one ought not to deny
A happier fellow one could not wish to meet
He whistles on his way to work as he walks down the street
About him he has such a likeable way
And it will not be to worrying that he will grow gray
One who loves a good laugh he does not have a care
The happy go lucky of this World are rare.

Of Men Who Died Bravely

Of men who died bravely in battle stories we read of and hear
Perhaps of the fear of death they had lost their fear
But dying without fear hardly proves one as brave
Some have a secret wish for an early grave
The dead hero never hears the last post the bugler does play
And the earth worm the only form of life where dead people lay
Those without the fear of death have a wish for to die
Our egos are far bigger than you or i
To a Universal God i am not one who to does pray
And of a life after bodily death i am not one who can say
I am what some refer to as an infidel
A god forsaken fellow who pens doggerel
Stories of men who die bravely in wars far away
We read of and hear of in the news every day.

A State Of Mind

You may be living in a hovel and in extreme poverty
But feel inwardly contented and as happy as can be
Whilst the billionbaire with everything does worry night and day
Most human beings are hard to satisfy or it does seem this way
Of the one with everything only happiness so many stories we do hear
But happiness is a state of mind or so it does appear
It is something money cannot buy as we have come to know
You may be feeling quite unhappy though your material assets grow
Yes money is not everything as some are known to say
Though it can be your greatest friend when you have bills to pay
But the unhappiest people are not always those financially down
The most of them are living in the wealthier side of town
Money can buy most things in life but never happiness
Though you are better to be unhappy with it than unhappy without it nonetheless.

In Mid July

The overcast sky looking gloomy and gray
But the temperature pleasant for a mid Winter's day
A high for the day of sixteen degrees
And only the slightest of chill in the breeze
The birds who do sing every day of the year
The flutes of the magpies melodious and clear
In a month in their breeding Season they will sing in the night
Their pleasant notes echoing in the moonlight
In mid July six weeks from the birth of the Spring
In the town park pee wee the magpie larks do sing
The sunless sky pregnant with dark gray clouds of rain
But with this mild mid Winter weather one cannot complain
Daylight minutes growing slightly longer with each passing day
And the birth of the Spring is not that far away.

The Rose Of Newstead

Her shoulder length wavy hair as dark as the wing of a crow
The girl from the place where the dark Loddon flow
With a babble that is never silent by night or by day
Towards it's destiny the ocean in miles far away
With a beautiful smile and eyes of hazel brown
The beautiful Rose of old Newstead Town
Young and without ties she does seem carefree
Near the prime of her life she has turned twenty three
The finest in Newstead and for miles about
I say what is true of her my words do not doubt
And yet despite her beauty one free of conceit
As nice a person as one could wish to meet
The type that inspires the song writers to song
To the down to earth happy sort she does belong.

Does It Matter

Does it matter in the end if you travel far and wide
Or if you live till the day you die in your hometown or countryside
Since your life a destined journey that will end for you one day
The longer you live the sooner you will die as some do like to say

In a Human World where billions of people for success do compete
There are many so called losers living on every street
In every village, town and city in the big World out there
The have nots of every Country to be found everywhere

Those who talk of life choices seem a bit arrogant to me
For anyone does never choose to live in poverty
The homeless destined to live in this way is how it seems to be
Though on my thinking on this many would disagree

Up the corporate ladder you may have climbed far
But this does not tell me anything of the person you are
For if you lack in compassion and empathy
You are one of many in mind poverty

You may have all of the things that most people desire
The person many look up to and admire
But your lack of generosity of spirit says more about you
Than all of the money in the World could do.

George Is His Name

A baby boy born into royalty and great wealth and fame
For him special privileges by birthright and George is his name
One destined for to become a king one day
The privileged few do have all of the luck it does seem this way

The birth of a king to be amongst royalists great excitement create
Though such people cannot have much in their lives for to celebrate
Many of them may not even be living when he wears the crown
Those who look up to the few on others look down

It is the sort who adore the privileged by birth that we have to thank
For class distinction and for social rank
Privilege by birthright seems all wrong to me
But good luck anyway to this young king to be

Everyday in the Human World of the twenty first century
Thousands of babies are born into dire poverty
And many of them of malnutrition at a young age are destined to die
Those who talk of equality amongst human beings believe in a lie

Call me anti royalty or call me what you may
But it saddens me to think in the World today
That thousands of babies are born into a life of Earthly Hell
Yet having said this i do wish baby George well.

Is There

Is there a heavenly paradise beyond the sky
Where good souls with wings post bodily death to do fly?
For an answer to such ask other than me
Though even theologians on such a matter disagree
Since to any God i am not one who does pray
Call me an agnostic or an atheist or call me what you may
And i have been called worse things than an infidel
One never destined for to live where angels dwell
Of an afterlife i am not one who know
Though my wonderment on such only does grow
In life we learn lessons every day
But of a life post bodily death i cannot even say
I only know one day that i must die
This is a fact and fact does never lie.

I May Never

I may never climb to Clara's Cross again
Or hear the birds sing in the drizzling rain
Near prime of Spring in grove and on hedgerow
When soft winds of April in the old fields blow

Only in fancy i climb high fields of Claramore
Miles inland from Hibernia's windswept shore
Time ticking on i show my years in gray
Far south of where i first looked on lamp of day

Where years ago i used to daydream i might be a poet
One seen to be as worthy of literary note
But daydreams for most not known to come true
What life does give us has to be our due

A place that once did mean so much to me
Old Claraghatlea i never more may see
I live in the now and the past forever gone
And the biological clock as ever ticking on

Once Heard A Voice

Once heard a voice that one should not get wrong
The gray shrike thrush familiar in his song
His soft clear whistle with you does remain
Once heard a voice you recognize again
Not the prettiest of birds to look at one can say
Though distinctive in their feathers of brown and gray
Quite close to tame in their confiding way
Birds i know of though i do not see every day
Since they do need trees from predators to hide
On woodland borders they like to reside
They can be heard at anytime of year
And their flute like songs are pleasant for to hear
Of blackbird size they are widely known
Since they possess a charm of their own.

Trash Talkers

Though it never will win anybody renown
It is easy in  words to put anyone down
Trash talking is easy as easy can be
To do it you do not need a uni degree
And sad to think such people not even rare
Their sort do not have knowledge and wisdom to share
They lack in compassion and in empathy
Of them one might say that they are quite ordinary
On what goes around comes around one ought to believe
For what you sow in  life in return you receive
To the higher self trash talkers cannot be true
And on how they treat others does become their due
Trash talkers in their ways are so very small
Since they do not believe on a fair go for all.

You Never Stop Learning

Some people as they age spiritually and knowledgeable do grow
But the more you do learn the more you come to know
That though from life you have learned something new every day
From being knowledgeable and wise you do seem a long way
By their very thoughts some people are small
They have no more to learn since they think they know it all
In life we never stop learning a point they seem to miss
But then one would have to say that ignorance can be bliss
Life has so many lessons for to us to give
And you learn something new every day you do live
This is if you are open to learning as some people are
To learn from living one need not travel far
From life a new lesson or two to be learned every day
You never stop learning as some like to say

Why Pay Heed To Me

Many nutritionist writers tell us we are what we eat
What does this say of me one who likes meat
Though i feel i do not behave like a pig, cow or sheep
My wife does tell me i do bleat as i sleep

A bit of a redneck is all i can be
But having said this there are many like me
I never give credit to those of degrees
Though such things do not grow on the bushes and trees

Doctors prescribe medication and pills to keep many people alive
Such things that strip aging males of their sexual drive
And though the wealthy to live longer billions in money do spend
For them it comes to no avail in the end

Since to emulate them i feel no wish or desire
I do not like the most of the people that the masses admire
As it does seem to me their egos are overblown
But then as is often said each to their own

But why pay heed to me a cynical aging bloke
Who lacks in spirituality and is often financially broke
Just try to live as happy and do your own thing
And leave it to others your praises to sing.

The Coorong

Where the Murray deep and brown to the ocean crawl silent and slow
In the home of the wallaby and pale eyed crow
In bare and brown land of saltpans white as snow
Where only saltbush and scutch grass does grow

A Land that has inspired the creators of poetry, story and song
That many do refer to as The Coorong
Even in the long gone Dreamtime it was very old
It's true story in book form will never be told

The ways of it's Nature they did understand 
The First people of this great Southern Land
Their stories to pre-written  ancient history belong
The first people for to live in the Coorong

Long before the first people to the Southern Land came
To South Australia and the countryside now known as The Coorong by name
In the age of the dinosaurs old Murray did flow
In the land where the salt bush and scutch grass does grow

An ancient land that was old in the Dreamtime
That has inspired the makers of story and rhyme
The Coorong that has become kinown far and wide
Where the saltpans gleam white in the brown countryside.

You May Have

You may have little money right now to your name
But you too have your dreams of wealth and fame
As the thing known as success in life we pursue
But as we know not every dream does come true
Though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
In the Human World for one for to win many have to lose
With that i am sure few would disagree
But this is how it is and it always will be
You may be quite poor in the poor side of the town
But you too have your dreams of wealth and renown
Though hope from your life it has all but gone
Your dreams of better things helps you to keep on keeping on
And the success you crave may yet come your way
All good things come to those who do wait as the wise one did say.

Opinionated People

To the right all of the time they do belong
Those who feel their opinions cannot be wrong
Opinionated people are not or never have been rare
And their knowledge and wisdom with others are only too willing to share
Yes with anyone willing to listen they will share an insight
And you cannot be wrong if you feel you are right
Yet the words of a wise one i do recall
You have nothing to learn if you feel you know all
In so called enlightened places the opinionated to be found
In the chambers of parliament in numbers they abound
The government and opposition members on few things agree
If they both think they are right none of them can be wrong is how it seems to be
Opinionated people to be found everywhere
There are many of them in the World out there.

Greg

Greg is a fellow who has walked many miles
One who seems carefree he readily smiles
And says hello to everyone that he does meet
On his many walks in the park and the street
Quite a likeable fellow in his own charming way
He greets everyone with a smile and a good day
One who has worn out more shoes walking than anyone i do know
And his friends in numbers with each passing day does grow
Though one often quite short of money to spend
Greg is never one who is short of a friend
He has never fathered children never had a wife
Quite happy go lucky one who does laugh at life
A balding man in his early sixties his hair silver gray
One who walks for two to three hours every day.

A Long Way North

A long way north of where i now live Koroit near Warrnambool
In Millstreet Town in Duhallow i was dunce of the school
Many Seasons before i grew into a man
Well over fifty years ago in time quite a span

And in anyone's language that is a long time ago
Many Seasons before time did become my foe
The boy of the fifties is aging today
And feeling the wear of physical decay

Where from a boy into a man i had grown
Today by many i would not be known
But the old fields i loved to me would look the same
As they did i recall some of them had their own given name

Today a stranger in Claraghatlea and Claramore
Far north of this Town by the southern shore
Absence makes the heart grow fonder some do like to say
But the nostalgia for what was with me did not stay

But in fancy i do hear the silver tongued rill
That does have it's source in the field by the hill
Babbling to the river to the sea far away
In a voice that is never still by night or day

And when the soft winds of April in the old fields do blow
Hidden in the rushes the male pheasant crow
Having sex with the female the only part in parenting he does play
He is an absent father of him one might say

Since i left my first home-place many Seasons have gone
But life there as usual today does go on
And the swallows return home to breed in the Spring
The workings of Nature is an amazing thing.

Better Things In Life

When you feel you have come to the mental wall
And to you nothing in life seems to matter at all
And your hopes and dreams do seem at a dead end
Alone in the World and without a friend

For thirty years of living you feel you have nothing to show
But it may be of some consolation to you for to know
That there are many like you in the World out there
Who feel that their life journey has led them to nowhere

Though all hope out of your life it does seem has gone
The will to live in you does keep you living on
This feeling of hopelessness in you will not stay
Time is the great healer it does seem this way

So few wish to know of a sad sack of the town
Life can be so hard when you are feeling down
And though at the present hope in you seems dead
Better things in life of you may be ahead.

A Great Person Indeed

In this Human World we live in where success is born of greed
It is not the self serving types of which we are in need
We have too many of their sort already far too many it does seem
People who nurture their egos and only seek their own esteem
What we do need are more people who have in them empathy
Who for the suffering of others can feel genuine sympathy
People in touch with their higher selves who have love in them to share
For those less fortunate than themselves they always seem to care
People like them never selfish always sowing Karma's good seed
The World better for them living in it and of more of their kind we are in need
Leave it to the impressionable masses the praises of the wealthy greedy one to sing
It is said in the Land of the Blind that the one eyed man is King
But the one who comes to the assistance of the one of helping in need
May not have many admirers but is a great person indeed.

We Do Not Like Those Different To Us

We do not like those different to us do not welcome boat refugees
As they may be latent terrorists or carriers of disease
Since already in our Country far too many agitating minorities
Are we not a bit judge-mental and not easy for to please?

We do always find some reason or excuse for to complain
We do not like the warm sunshine and we do not like the rain
Of what it takes to be happy of ourselves we do deny
By the way we talk and grizzle we are hard to satisfy

For our very narrow views on life we find others for to blame
And we feel those who disagree with us ought to hang their heads in shame
And permanent residents who find fault with our way of life should be sent back to from where they came
Those who lack patriotic fervor to criticize us seem too game.

We believe that we are tolerant and uphold the values in the fair go for all
And we surely love our cricket and our own codes of football
And if migrants do not like how we live in our Land they should not stay
For this thing called multiculturalism such a high price we do pay

Though some others may not like us we believe that we are fair
And we stand by our opinions and our views are not shy to air
We love our sporting and war heroes and we support our footy club
And we enjoy our get together for a few beers at the pub

Why should we spend time in worrying what outsiders of us say
Since than others we are better and who is perfect anyway
And we feel proud of our Nations flag and our National Heroes with pride we recall
And those who criticize us in their ways do seem so small.

Life Does Go On

The years have left me looking balder and gray
And from the old fields i do live far away
But in my flights of fancy the silver tongued rill
Babbles to the river down the fields by the hill
When i visualize the nesting birds sing
In the groves and on the hedgerows in the prime of the Spring
And contented cattle chewing their cuds in the lush grassy fields lay
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
The past may be gone but the memories remain
Of a place in fancy i visit again and again
And often in my flights of fancy i can hear a cow
Lowing at sunset in a field by the River Finnow
But that was in the past and the past it has gone
And the now is all that matters and life does go on.

A Late Bloomer

She was not as beautiful in her life's prime
The woman who grows prettier with the passing of time
Some women mature like good wine i suppose
In her early forties she blooms like a rose
She has not met her soul-mate and to any man was never a wife
And she is without children in her mid life
She does seem to grow prettier by the day
She is a late bloomer of her one might say
A secretary for a company of lawyers her workplace from home a five minute drive
She is forty three but she looks twenty five
Why she improves with age the reason may be
That she always seems happy and of any cares free
A beautiful woman unshackled by conceit or guile
Brown wavy shoulder length hair, brown eyes and a wonderful smile.

Then Such Is Life

To the God of his choice he does pray every day
But of his nearest neighbors he does not have one nice thing to say
Of a different religion and race respect to them he cannot pay
Though they have not harmed him in any way

He believes on his version of God but not on live and let live
And to those who are different credit he cannot give
Friendships with those of different beliefs he could not cultivate
And those who are different to him he just tolerate

He firmly believes in his God in the sky
But to love his neighbor to him does not apply
Since his neighbors are of a different religion and of a different race
And difference is something that he cannot embrace

To the God of his choice he often kneels to pray
But of his neighbors he never has kind things to say
Those not of similar background and who do not believe as he does he choose as his foes
But then such is life one would have to suppose.

The Greatest Of All

So little about her i can claim to know
Yet my wonder of her only does seem to grow
I first grew to love her sixty years ago
And i love her today though time has become my foe
Mother Earth or Mother Nature she is known by either name
The one who will outlive the mortals who have known of Earthly Fame
Compared to her achievements the greatest human achievements seem small
She remains as she was as the greatest of all
The one who has in her the magical power
Of creating from a tiny seed a beautiful flower
The one who creates life out of death and decay
Her marvelous creations we see every day
Present in the World from shore to shore
She has lived forever and will live forever more.

Their Own Stories To tell

Some are wealthy and successful and widely known
And their admirers in numbers have grown and have grown
But those who are referred to as the never do well
Just like the wealthy and successful do have their own life stories to tell
Some will tell you that you can become successful in life if so you wish to choose
But in life as in all things for a few for to win many have to lose
But they know more about life than the wealthiest one in the town
For they know what it really feels like to be financially down
But their stories in book form are never told
Never destined to grow wealthy and famous only poor and old
But since fame in their lives never did come their way
Many are dying with unwritten life stories every day
Their life stories they never did get for to tell
Though they could have told of life in Earthly Hell.

Inner Strife

It is a creature of the human brain that has ruined many a life
It preys on happiness and mind ease and is known as Inner Strife
Behind it's cloak of unhappiness in the mind it does hide
The creator of depression that does lead many to suicide
It will remain with some who have it until their life does end
And to happiness and contentment it will never be a friend
Pity you familiar to it than it you do not have a greater foe
Though prescribed medication may protect you from the darker side of woe
Those who have it to be pitied since happiness is it's prey
And in the mind it does enter it does often choose to stay
Some do have it for a lifetime it comes in varying degrees
Depresses your human spirit it is an awful disease
It preys on contentment and happiness it does stay with some for life
On the worst enemy i have i would not wish Inner Strife.

Young Sam

Up the social ladder he hopes to climb far
Young and egotistical Sam drives a brand new car
With his pretty fiance on the passenger seat and the car stereo blaring loud
With the smug look on his face of one who is self proud

With heaps of testosterone like a horny young ram
He does seem so sure of himself cocky young Sam
Yet plenty of his type in the big World out there
The young Sams of this world seem to be everywhere

His showy body language seems to say look at me
But suppose in the age of self promotion he is one of a growing majority
In the twenty first century no prizes for humility
This is how it is and it always will be

At twenty three years near the bloom of his prime
To his pretty blond girl friend he gives a good time
Driving in the leafy suburb on a Saturday night
With the car stereo blaring they laugh in delight

To well to do parents a social climbing son
Young Sam in his own mind is the town's number one
But he is not the only young man in the town who feels this way
In numbers they seem to keep growing every day.

Tony O Callaghan

Born and raised in Rathduane between Millstreet and Rathmore
Tony O Callaghan in years in his late  fifties or almost three score
Has recently died this was so sad to read
In his lifetime by good example one who did lead
Suppose he was not born for to live a long life
And i do not know if he did father children or he had a wife
Since i had not seen Tony for three decades of years
Yet in his passing he is one well worthy of tears
Yet of a good person the good memories will remain
Rathduane's loss in his case was Killarney's gain
But the good memories till i die with me will remain
Of A good person i knew but will not meet again
Of time his was not a very long span
But in life very honorable and a good man.

What I Enjoy Doing

What i enjoy doing as a hobby many see as a waste of time
The hours that i have spent in penning of rhyme
Since they only look at things in a monetary way
But then such is life as some are known to say

The people who judge others by their take home pay
So many of them in the World of today
Their opinions on what i do for enjoyment with me does seem fine
Since this is their business and their business not mine

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
One of those who has written many pages of stuff
My physical best to the forever gone
But true to my calling i keep on rhyming on

The rhymes that come to me on notepaper i pen down
But never for monetary gain or renown
With rhyming words i am one who likes to play
And what others say of what i do for a hobby with me is okay.

Andy And Jo

It is a wonderful story of Andy and Jo
They met at a mutual friend's party some three years ago
It was love at first sight they are happily married today
Good things happen for good people as some do say

The life their love union has created is their pride and joy
Eighteen months old David their bonny baby boy
Before he met Jo, Andy often felt down
But now he is one of the happiest people in Town

Andy is twenty four and Jo is twenty three
Young love in full bloom how lovely it can be
With a handsome and healthy baby and a beautiful and devoted wife
Not surprising that Andy is happy in his life

With a steady job and a good take home pay
He drives to work happy every working day
Life for him much better in due thanks to Jo
They met at a mutual friend's party some three years ago.

I Wear The Gray Time Brought Me

I wear the gray time brought me on my half bald head
And some i went to school with are now with the dead
And time telling on me and life does go on
And i live in the now and the past it has gone
The wintery sky may look rainy and gray
But so good to be living even on a day like today
The time is not distant when the nesting birds will sing
I hope to be living to welcome the Spring
To hear the blackbird singing on a sunlit tree
Since on the length of one's life never a guarantee
And though i know i have lived the most of my life span
I hope to live to be a very old man
And i hope that good health with me does remain
And that i will die in my sleep without an ache or pain.

Old Age Is A thing That Is Natural

Time on you it is now telling you feel wobbly at the knees
And you have heart palpitations every time that you do sneeze
You are clearly not the person that years ago you used to be
What is happening to you now has also been happening to me

You used to be imbued with the ambition of one who was born to lead
But now without prescribed reading glasses the big print in the newspaper you cannot read
On sunless and windy days you stay indoors your thinning bones feeling the cold
And even though to yourself you will not admit it your aging body feeling old

In hair dye you cloak the greyness that age brings you in your battle with natural decay
And you use makeup and anti aging creams to smooth your age wrinkles away
Though your body try to tell you it is aging to youthfulness you try to cling
False bodily appearance to you quite important this vanity is a strange thing

Your aging vocal chords have you talking croaky you even show your age when you do speak
And every half an hour you must go to the toilet your bladder it is rather weak
You do have your pride to live up to but pride does come before a fall
Yet old age is a thing that is natural and eventually comes to us all.

One With The Wanderlust

He has never been counted out though he has often been financially down
The fellow who has lived in many a town
A young man at twenty eight in the prime of his life
Single without the responsibility of children and wife
But the brief sexual affair to him nothing new
Of women in his life he has had more than a few
The lust of the wander in his young mind strong
To any one place his type never belong
Since he left the town of his birth at eighteen
A lot of big cities and towns he has seen
One happy on the road that leads to anywhere
There is so much to see in the big World out there
Doing quite well at present though in the past often financially down
He is happy when on the road to the next town.

The Salvation Army

The salvos are always helping people of helping in need
The homeless and hungry they shelter and feed
Thank God for the Salvos the poor homeless old lady does say
When i needed help they did not turn me away
In the battle against poverty a huge part they do play
The Salvos are helping the poor every day
The Salvos in Australia are widely known
For doing good they are in a class of their own
For their compassion and acts of kindness the Salvation Army live up to their good name
This is and will always be their just claim to fame
With that the Salvation army workers are great people none would disagree
They are people who are blessed with great empathy
Of the Salvation Army only good things we hear of and read
In the field of good example they always do lead.

I Blame This On The A B C

Of late in my mind i feel confused and i blame this on the A B C
From listening to people on radio who seem far more clever than me
People known and admired by many some of them with uni degrees
The famous of the early twenty first century who command high appearance fees

Politicians and successful people who think their opinions cannot be wrong
Their waffling keeps jumbling my thinking i must not be mentally strong
They feel their own opinions only matter though someone's loss becomes their gain
One wonders how their inflated egos find the room to fit into their brain

Each time i turn on news radio demonization of poor people i hear
By people who need power in a bad way who broadcast their message of fear
Of  poor homeless and stateless people  asylum seekers and refugees
Who risk their lives for a better life in unsafe boats on the deep seas

Perhaps listening to the A B C is something i should give away
The opinions of judgemental  people i hear too much of every day
I have grown tired of so called honorable people who in their opinions seem small
By their very words it is obvious they do not believe on a fair go for all.

Winthrop Mackworth Praed

He lived as a poet of the people with a rhyming style of his own
Winthrop Mackworth Praed is one who lives in his verses and his legend through the decades has grown
I do enjoy reading his  readable verses they just seem to bubble along
His distinctive rhyme without his name to it once familiarized with it's author one should never get wrong

In his short life he had many imitators and imitation is the best form of flattery some do say
But he did not live to be an old man as one senile and weary and gray
Which does seem to be more the pity poets like he was just cannot be made
A new form of rhyme he created a rhyme innovator the poet known as Praed

Those who read his memorable verses are happy to read them again
To most rhyming poets  very different his style of writing the difference explain
In his poems there is music and rhythm reading his poetry i thoroughly enjoy
On hindsight i do remember that i did love his poems as a boy

That true greatness does outlive it's creators and this surely is not a lie
The poems of Praed does live on long after his body did die
You will find the rhythm and music in his distinctive style of rhyme
The poetry without a use by date it does seem to live on in time.

The Man From The Road To Rathmore

He lives far south of his northern first homeland the cliffs of Hibernia's shore
And even further south of Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra the man from the road to Rathmore
He is far from Clara and Caherbarnagh and Gortavehy the old hill of stone
And trhe famous twin hills of Sliabh Luachra known to many as the Paps of Shrone

Last Spring his wife of forty eight Summers of cancer died painful and slow
For many weeks he grieved the passing of the greatest love he ever did know
It grieved him for to see her suffer the sadness of loss with him does remain
And all he has left are the photos and memories of one he will not see again

He is seven times a grandfather and the years have left him looking gray
And of his young years he has only memories of old places he love far away
In his first home-place today he would be a stranger and this does seem a sad thing to say
He will never again see the old fields in Nature's wildflowers of the May

A stranger in Millstreet and Cullen and Gneeveguilla, Rathmore and Knocknagree
Even from the first home-place years of absence makes one a stranger this is how it is and always will be
He was a young man of the fifties the fifties  a long time ago
And as is said of time by the wise one that it does become everyone's foe

He sits in the bright evening sunshine with his dog and a warm flask of tea
Watching the gannets from great heights for their prey diving into the sea
A man who has seen many Seasons of years  three with the four score
A long way south of his first home-place and the roadway that leads to Rathmore.

In A World Where

In a World where impressionable people make small gods of elite sports people and football players
And where the majority of the wealth and assets is owned by a small number of billionaires
And the gap between the wealthy and the poor is growing wider by the day
In a fair and equal Human World  it would never be this way
Their paper god of money billions of people do pursue
And that though money cannot buy you happiness happens to be true
But the one with little money his or her friends in the few
To this you well may even say tell us something that is new
The happy of mind people to say the least are rare
I know of so many who are burdened by care
For this thing known as success billions of people with each other compete
But in life as in athletics and in all things only one can be the best athlete
And for every winner there are losers all around the World today
This is how it is and has always been and it will always be this way

My Wonder Of Nature

My wonder of Nature only seems to grow
And so little about her i can claim to know
Yet she does have a lesson for me every day
We do never stop learning as some like to say
Learning of her ways is a thing i enjoy
She is one i have loved since i was a young boy
I first got to know her in old fields far away
And memories of that remain with me today
In Spring the dipper did sing in the silver tongued rill
That babbled it's way down the field by the hill
And with a loud song for his size the tiny brown wren
He sang in the bushes in the furzy glen
And though the years have left me feeling weary and looking gray
From Nature i am learning new things every day.

What Goes Around Comes Around

What goes around comes around as some do say
And for my sins against others the price i must pay
Those who believe in Karma see life in this way
If human law does not get you Karma will one day
For years i've been living on the poverty line
And the only alcohol i can afford are cheap brands of beer and of wine
In my past life i must not have been a nice man
And my punishment for that in my present life span

Addicted to penning of reams of doggerel
Perhaps is my punishment in Earthly Hell
For wrongs in my past lifetime to others i have done
I was not re-born to be a chosen one
And now i do pay for some past lifetime crime
And the thing known as Karma does live on in time

What goes around come around ever so true
I receive from life what is only my due
And it is for many as it is for me
For past life crimes we must pay with that would you agree?

A Claraghatlea Fellow

Where i was born and raised few nowadays would know me
Yet a Claraghatlea fellow is all i can be
A Claraghatlea fellow west of Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown

The place where i first looked on the lamp of day
North of where i now live thousands of sky miles away
I left there in December when Clara wore a hat of snow
And Finnow in the old fields bank high did flow

I have not seen Claraghatlea for twenty seven years that does seem a long time
The babies when i left there are now in their life's prime
And all i have are the memories of the long gone years
For the past i have shed my last nostalgic tears

The wanderlust was in me in Claraghatlea i did not stay
And to many there i would be a stranger today
The future ahead of us and the past it has gone
And we live in the now and life does go on.

Every Morning I Hear Them

Every morning i hear them in the park nearby in the gray of daybreak
The calls of the magpie larks none can mistake
Some name them by their distinctive song of pee wee
They build their cup shaped nest of mud on low branch of tree
Because of this some refer to them as mudlark but a name just a name
But magpie lark, pee wee or mudlark are of one and the same
Pale eggs that look a lighter shade of gray
With tiny brown spots through them the female bird does lay
Black and white birds slightly bigger than a blackbird in Australia widespread, abundant and well known
The magpie larks are birds who have a charm of their own
Familiar birds to many and familiar birds to me
I see and hear them often sing their familiar song pee wee
Abundant throughout Australia and they are known Nationwide
Magpie larks live in the town parks the outback and countryside.

Since Late Seventy Three

Since late seventy three i have been a rhymer and much later than that a rhyming buff
And i am one who has done a lot of rhyming i have penned pages and pages of stuff
I used to daydream that i would be a writer one seen to be worthy of the title of poet
Though i never became one worthy of literary of note
Since my physical prime many Seasons have come and gone
And four decades later i am rhyming on
The rhymes that do come to me on notepaper i pen down
But never for money or for literary renown
An adictive rhymer is all i can be
And the title of poet is not for people like me
I am just a fellow who does love to rhyme
And rhyming to me an enjoyable past-time
And i hope to be rhyming until the day i do die
If i did tell you different that would be a lie.

Feelings Of Bitterness And Resentment

Some people i do not like and they do not like me
Suppose this is the way that we are meant to be
But i cannot bring myself to hating anyone
Despite any wrong to me they may have done
I believe in the philosophy of live and let live
And though some wrongs against you may seem hard to forgive
From harboring grudges only bitterness within does grow
And those who are bitter love to others cannot show
The revengeful mind is a mind in decay
And far too many bitter people in the Human World of today
Hatred to the mind is noxious and eats your happiness away
And for your health on you the price may be huge for to pay
Feelings of bitterness and resentment towards others leads one to serious crime
And can have it's consequences in years of prison time.

On George R Sims

His bones for decades in Mother Earth lay
But in his poems and plays he is living today
George R Sims an amazing writer and a legendary poet
In English literature his works remain worthy of note

The plight of the poor of the England of his time
He brought to the World in his wonderful rhyme
Like the great poet George Crabbe before him in decades long gone
His poems of the poor in English history live on

With words George R Sims surely did have a way
A poet of the people of him one can say
Amongst the best of his time he does surely belong
His musical rhyme like a beautiful song

A champion of the poor and a great poet indeed
Of writers like George R Sims the Human World is in need
His wonderful words in the memory remain
I have read his poems more than once and i will read them again.

Hell Is On Earth

Cannot say about this so called place where angels do dwell
But there sure is a place known as Earthly Hell
As the poor of the Planet we live on lives there
And poor people nowadays to be found everywhere

For so many life cannot seem at all fair
When so many grow poorer for every new millionaire
In the refugee camps of the World millions of  refugees
And poverty Worldwide in varying degrees

In arguably the World's wealthiest Nation the U S of A
Hundreds of thousands of people are homeless today
With those who say this is their choice i do not agree
To be homeless anyone never chooses to be

Hundreds of thousands of people are homeless in China and Japan
In India, Indonesia and in Pakistan
In South America and in Europe, Britain Germany and France
The millions of poor victims of poor circumstance

Millions of people in the World north, west, east and south
Does know what life in Earthly Hell is About
And people in wars and of hunger are dying every day
For many Hell is on Earth despite what some do say.

The Busker From Grantville

The busker from Grantville he has traveled far
And has led the sing along in many a country town bar
In towns all around the big country his face is well known
As a wandering singer songwriter and musician his legend has grown
At twenty five years in his physical prime
The busker from Grantville on his side has time
He was busking in the shopping mall today
And tomorrow from there he may be miles away
Young dark haired and handsome one of a rare kind
The lust of the wander is in his young mind
He loves singing and music and at both he is good
And from busking he does earn a good livelihood
From town to town he travels in his car
And he sings in the malls as he plays his guitar.

Dippers

In the river in the field where the rushes in clusters do grow
The dark brown water bird with breast white as snow
Can be heard singing where the rapids flow
A Nature's voice from the past that i used to know
Birds then familiar to many and familiar to me
The dippers were birds i often did hear and see
In or near water for their lifetime they are known to stay
Birds only at home in a water-way
Unusual birds with a familiar scratchy song
Once heard them again one should never get wrong
In the water-ways them i often did see and hear sing
Many years ago in a far away Spring
When i visualize the past returns to me
And the dippers today sing in my memory.

Knocknagree Joe

Beyond old Duhallow there was so much to see
So he left his first home-place in Knocknagree
When the robin was singing on the leafy birch tree
In May in the Spring of nineteen sixty three

Just prior to his twenty third birthday full of youthful elan
As a dark haired and handsome and physically strong young man
He has been in Australia for five decades of years
And for the past he does not have any tears

Since nineteen sixty five married to Jo his Australian born wife
In Warrnambool in Victoria they are enjoying the coastal City life
Their son and daughter in mid life a decade past their prime
Last month they became grandparents for the fifth time

It has been fifty years since he heard the robin sing
In Knocknagree Village in May in the Spring
Gray haired in his early seventies time has become his foe
The likeable fellow known as Knocknagree Joe

The Magpie Does Sing

The paddocks from the overnight ground  frost are looking silver gray
But the magpie does sing in the cold gray dawn of  the day
The familiar warbling so flute like and clear
Of the bird who does sing every day of the year
The black and white birds known to some as piping shrike
The native Australians who do not have a look alike
They have been in Australia as long as the first gum tree
One can say of them as Aussie as can be
A cold morning on late June in Winter in the south
And the silver gray Paddocks tell jack frost is about
But whether the weather be wet or fine
And even in frost and storm and in sunshine
The magpie does  sing every day of the year
And their familiar warbling so pleasant to hear.

Old Ed

Old Ed came home a hero from a war far away
The bravest of the brave a sad old man today
His only son Tom in his early twenties committed suicide
And ten years ago his wife of fifty years Ann of a heart attack died
Though the passing of time on him does tell
For one in his mid eighties he looks physically well
Of his warring days Ed has nothing to say
And he does not even attend the  parade on war memorial day
He says i live in the now and life does go on
And the past in the past in the forever gone
The bravest of the brave when the going it got tough
Of war and talk of it he has had more than enough
In the war where many of his comrades fell he did survive
And he looks fit and well for one of eighty five.

True Friends Indeed

Negative things of those they don't like comes easy for some to say
But suppose they cannot help it if they are this way
That words can be mentally hurtful none ought to deny
The wisdom in judge and thou shalt not be judged to them does not apply
An old pearl of wisdom that is nice  to recall
If you do not have something nice to say about a person say nothing at all
You may be one of the nicest people in the town
But there is always a few in their words to put you down
That you are a good and a likeable person well may be so
But the one with many friends is not without a  foe
You may have good drinking mates in the local bar
But it is when you are in trouble you know who your friends are
Yes you know who your friends are in your time of need
For these are the friends who are your true friends indeed.

He Does His Own Thing

His mum and dad in him did raise a good son
Since wrong by anyone he never has done
Yet his praises you never do hear others sing
The fellow who does like to do his own thing

In his early twenties a nice sort of a bloke
And one who does laugh when he hears a good joke
But religion, politics, sports and football
Are things that do not interest him at all

He is never seen at the bowls and football club
And he never does drink at the local pub
Of anyone he never has bad things  to say
He does his own thing and lives in his own way

Since  little in common with him she did share
His girl-friend left him but he does not care
He does his own thing and his  needs in life small
And he does not have any worries at all.

You May Know The Trappings

You may know the trappings of wealth and renown
And by many the most admired one in the town
Own your own thriving business drive a top of the range car
But this does not tell us anything of the person you are

Is there room for compassion in your mind
And do you have it in you to be generous  and kind
To help the one who of your help is in need
If this be so you are a good person indeed

And if to your higher self you remain as true
Then credit for that is surely your due
There is more to living life than me, myself and i
Those who tell you different believe  their own lie

Since there are many greedy and wealthy people in the  Human World of today
Your wealth and material possessions to me of you nothing say
But for those doing it tough if you feel empathy
It shows what a  good person that you must be.

It Has Been Many Years

It has been many years since i see Clara Hill
And heard the familiar babble of the silver tongued rill
That flows by my first home from here far away
I do live far south of Claraghatlea today
The Finnow bank high in flood waters of brown
 Flowing in the rushy fields just west of Millstreet Town
And the swallows in pursuit of flying insects fly
On a morning in Spring across the gray sky
In the place where i grew to love Nature as a young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
For friends of the past i have not seen for years
I may well have shed my last nostalgic tears
But when i visualize i hear a male robin sing
On a leafy birch tree in a far away Spring.

Julia Gillard Leaves Politics

Julia Gillard leaves politics in an honorable way
But of her predecessor and the man who replace her as Australia's P M the same one cannot say
He should have resigned from Parliament three years ago
For every friend Kevin Rudd has he has a foe

The dreams they once shared of a better Australia for them ended in  tears
As political enmity does live on for years
When Julia replaced Kevin as P M Kevin as an M P did remain
Not for the sake of his party but for his own gain

The credibility of the leader of his party he sought to destabilize
And though seemingly popular with the voters it comes as no surprise
That P M Kevin Rudd by some of his fellow party M P's is loathed cannot be denied
For his own selfish gains his party he did divide

The praises of former P M Julia Gillard all Australians may not sing
But on resigning from Parliament on being replaced as P M she did the honorable thing
The way Australia's first woman P M was destabilized a political shame
But to be Australia's first female Prime Minister is to her enduring fame.

He May Never Again

He may never again see the town far away
Where he once was well known but may not be today
When he visualizes he fancy he hear
The song of the chaffinch in the Spring of the year
The past may be gone but the memories with him stay
Of when the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
Long before his dark brown hair turned to gray
With his young friends in the town park football he did play
His best ever friend and the love of his life
Five years ago to cancer he lost his wife
Ten times a grandfather at seventy three
He only has memories of what used to be
Of a past that is in the Seasons long gone
And he is growing older and life does go on.

In Our Journeys Through Life

In our journeys through life we rise after every fall
And the greatest of human achievements are not great at all
Compared to the achievements of Nature human achievements seem small
And Nature's Reaper on all lives has the final call
Our journey in life must end one night or day
And like the leaves of the Fall we go into decay
Except for suicide cases on how long we live the Reaper has the say
Death makes way for new life this is Nature's way
In our journeys in life we make friends and foes
One would have to say this is life one must suppose
And whether you are one who knows of wealth and fame
Or one who does not have a penny to his or her name
The Reaper on their lives has the final say
For everyone there is a last night and day.

Our Very Thoughts

Our very thougts at times on us can be tough
Are there times when you feel you are not good enough
When you feel that all others are better than you?
To you it may not be a consolation but i often feel this way too
The mind a strange creature would you not agree
At times i feel others are better than me
Negative thoughts of self always do drag you down
There are many so many like you in the town
Some lack in self confidence since this is their way
And many like you in the Human World of today
Perhaps one might call this humility gone wrong
To these sort of people you and i belong
Suppose we are what we are this is all we can be
And you in your ways not much different to me.

Never A Winner

Religion, culture and National borders cause most of the wars in the World of today
And in acts of terrorism it is mostly civilians who for the sins of others with their lives do pay
In conflicts mostly the innocents do seem to suffer this is how it is and it always will be
In war it does seem there is never a winner though many with what i say may not agree
War does give rise to acts of terrorism innocent people are dying in the most brutal way
Targeted at random by angry soulless people mad in their minds of them seems fair to say
From past wars lessons have never been learned war men never learn from lessons of the past
After every war there is peace for a few years but peace between enemies never does last
Far too many war widows and mothers and far too many people in war and terrorism have died
War it is waged by ruthless ignorant people those who believe they have god on their side
Every war gives rise to National heroes at every war memorial the last post is played
And war leaders honored in song and in story and for the returned soldiers a huge street parade
But the war dead cannot be brought back to life in war all are losers and so called winners don't win
And one conflict always does lead to another when one war is over another begin.

People With Different Agendas

People with different religious and political agendas but then such is life
And different agendas often lead to public strife
It has happened in many Countries what is happening in Egypt today
For to be adversarial is the human way
The Egyptian President and his Ministers by the army under house arrest
Of Governing the Country they might have done better though they did try their best
In Egypt of many billionaires millions live in extreme poverty
And public unrest often caused by inequality
People power can bring changes of this there is no doubt
As Mohamed Morsi and his Ministers of late did find out
Most people have their own agendas this is how it seems to be
This is how we are would you not agree
What is happening in Egypt can happen anywhere
Since so many poor and unhappy people in the bigger World out there.

Koroit

With strong links to Celtic and Indigenous Cultures as it's claim to historical renown
And apart from that Koroit in South Western Victoria is a very livable Town
Quite close to the sea and the beaches and close to Port Fairy and Warrnambool
Spring, Summer and Autumn in Koroit are pleasant and the Winter on the side of cool
Overall the people of Koroit are quite friendly it is quite a welcoming place
Anyway most there to me friendly though to most there mine not a known face
Most who visit there to there return for to enjoy a holiday
It is quite a nice place to visit and to there some even return to stay
Koroit in South Western Victoria is a Town that is widely known
And apart from it's proximity to Tower Hill and the beaches it does have a charm of it's own
In Tower Hill many species of native wildlife wallaby, echidna, koala, emu and kangaroo
And crimson rosella and long bill corella and yellow tail black cockatoo
And swamphen, black duck, black swan, teal, grebe and moorhen in Tower Hill lake seen all year round
Five Minutes by car from Koroit Town  in a place where beauty and peace is to be found.

Happy Harry

He is such a very happy fellow and he always does seem this way
Whenever i meet Happy Harry with a toothy smile he says good day
His dark brown hair greying in his mid forties for twenty years married to Irene
Their only offspring John in his late teens last November he turned nineteen
A popular man Happy Harry his sort people do wish to know
To smile to him always so easy he is one with the inner glow
If you are one in need of helping he will help you out if he can
There is nothing to dislike about him he is a kind and a generous man
Jim Greene who is on an  aged pension one who struggles for to make ends meet
Says Harry is his kindest neighbor the most helpful person on the street
When he asks him for help Harry helps him without ever asking for pay
One of many who likes Happy Harry of him he only has good things to say
Whenever i meet Happy Harry he has a big smile on his face
He is such a likeable fellow and happiness he does embrace.

Edward Snowden

The most wanted person by the Government of the U S of A
For leaking classified information if they can bring him home in years of prison time he will pay
He is without a passport in an airport in Moscow today
And that no Country wishes to give him asylum does seem a sad thing to say

To publicize that American Intelligence were phone tapping foreign Countries is his greatest crime
Edward Snowden a young man in his life's prime
If returned to the U S for treason could be executed or spend a lifetime in jail
The tiger will eat you if you stand on it's tail

His mum and his dad should feel proud of their son
For Edward never robbed or raped or murdered anyone
Branded as a traitor for speaking the truth
And stranded in Moscow in a World without ruth

Corruption in high places in Government is rife why otherwise pretend
And because Edward Snowden exposes this he does not have a friend
No Country seems to want to offer him asylum he does seem in strife
He could end up back in the U S to be executed or imprisoned for life

A so called traitor with courage and integrity
Edward Snowden is being punished for his honesty
Stranded in a Moscow airport one in need of a friend
And who knows for him how this is going to end.

A Dog's Love For It's Master

A dog's love for it's master unconditional though of such a love singers do seldom sing
Your dog looks up to you as a true hero and does admire you as it's queen or king
For as long as it does live to you devoted until death your dog it will be your friend
Your children and your spouse may well forsake you  but for love on your dog you can depend
The singer sings of true love between humans but in human love conditions do apply
But a dog's love for it's master unconditional and to please you it does never cease to try
When you come home from work tired in the evening your dog is there to greet you at the gate
With welcoming bark and tail to and fro wagging as if to say so good to see you mate
In the love between humans there is conditions this is how it is and it will always be
In that way i am no different to others what applies to them too does apply to me
But between a dog and it's master it is very different your dog you it never will disown
My companion dogs to me were so devoted the greatest friends that i have ever known
Your dog truly loves you without conditions and until death as your friend does stay
But love between humans is very different this is how it does seem to me anyway.

A Grounded Silver Gull

It cannot fly with a drooping left wing
Grounded on the beach it does seem such a sad thing
The disabled silver gull that i did see today
For dog or cat or fox is now easy prey

By whatever reason it has lost it's gift of flight
Grounded on the beach it did seem a sorry sight
In the laws of Nature the old and weak are vulnerable and few of them do die in the natural way
And in Nature no sins for to be forgiven on life and death she has the final say

The grounded silver gull i can only pity tomorrow it may not be alive
A flightless bird on a beach is quite vulnerable and for a long period of time will not survive
At night the hungry foxes on the beaches hunting and a hungry fox does have a hefty appetite
A grounded gull for to prey on is easy and for a predator does make a tasty bite

A bird of flight is doomed or so it does seem when  it does not have the safety of the sky
The grounded gull that i see on the beach this evening vulnerable to predators since it cannot fly
A small meal for a very hungry predator in Nature for one to live one has to die
For me like the poor gull there will be a last day a fact of life and fact does never lie.

Old Jack

Than any singer i know more songs  he has sung
Old Jack may be getting old but he does feel young
He never did father children or never did have a wife
But women are very much part of his life
And though in his mid seventies and his hair silver gray
Once a week his partner in her late sixties with him has an overnight stay
One is only as old as he or she feels as some like to say
And old Jack does not feel old in any way
He does know the words of many a ballad and song
The local lead singer of the pub sing along
So happy go lucky and always carefree
Him in a bad mood i have yet for to see
In his mind for unhappiness there is no space
Old Jack he will die with a smile on his face.

Since Friendship

Since friendship is something on trees that does not grow
You cannot like every one you get to know
And likewise not every one will like you
Dislike is a thing that is felt by two
You cannot love every one despite what some may say
And most of us can seem strange in our own sort of a way
I think my neighbor is strange and i have heard that he
Says of all of the strange people he know none as strange as me
As long as people do not tell lies about me what they say of me to me is fine
Since this is their business and their business is not mine
The bond of some friendships than others more strong
Some friendships last a life time and others do not last long
And friendship does not grow on a bush or a tree
Suppose this is how it is and it always will be.

Though In Fancy

Though in fancy he can hear the babbling rill
Flowing to the big river down the fields by the hill
But with his wife and their primary school going son he is happy to stay
And he will not be going back to the town far away

The town where he first looked on the lamp of day
And lived as a boy till his late teens but will not grow old and gray
The wanderlust in him when he was nineteen
And the bigger World out there was to be seen

He arrived in Melbourne in May two thousand and three
The last time his young friends and his parents and two sisters he did see
A decade of years since he saw the wildflowers of the Spring
And heard the male chaffinch by his first home sing

With his wife and their seven year old daughter he will return next May
To meet his friends and family for a two months holiday
And climb the old hill and with his former mates socialize and play football
And good memories of their boyhood years with them he will recall.

The Former Rose Of Koroit

The former Rose of Koroit has known a better day
With dark brown hair dye she cloaks her natural gray
With three teenage children two girls and a boy
Though no longer of Koroit Town the pride and the joy
Her husband like her Koroit born and raised and in Koroit went to school
He drives to work every weekday to nearby Warrnambool
Like most Koroitians they love Koroit and will live there till they die
To say most Koroitians love Koroit would not be telling a lie
Twenty years ago the Town beauty but beauty does not last
The former rose of Koroit her better days in the past
Now in her mid forties the years on her beginning to tell
Yet for one well past her prime she does look rather well
She was the Rose of Koroit two decades ago
But like it is to everyone time has become her foe.