An Aging War Hero

Though he never does walk in the annual town war war memorial parade
He was a brave soldier where heroes are made
On a retirement pension and feeling mentally down
An aging war hero in a suburban town
His children and grandchildren living elsewhere
In towns and in cities in the big World out there
His wife breathed her last many Seasons ago
And time once his friend it has become his foe
In his early nineties his best years long gone
But his will to live makes him want to live on
Till the reaper of lives does pay him the call
As mortals we live and death is for all
One i do see often though not every day
The years have left him looking stiff, bald and gray.

The Memories Of What Was

In fancy  i see Clara in fogs of rain
And i hear the frogs croak in the watery drain
And i see Finnow bank high in flood waters of brown
Flowing bank high in the old fields close to Millstreet Town
And the hawthorns i see in their white blossoms of May
And on a birch tree the robin at gloam of day
Is singing in the gathering gloam just after sunset
A memory to cherish and never forget
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
To my friends of the past i may seem a stranger today
But from my thoughts they are never that too far away
I live in the now for the past it has gone
But the memories of what was in me linger on.

Tony Kelleher

Tony Kelleher in Duhallow was  well liked and well known
The man from Murphy's Terrace was one of Millstreet's own
Such sad news out of Millstreet to learn he has passed away
And in the cemetery of St Mary's his last remains lay
Perhaps in his fifties though years past his life's prime
Well short of being an aged man by many years of time
One of a large family of the deceased Rosie and Dan
Tony Kelleher as a living person was a very good man
A man who in his life made many a friend
But every life's journey does come to an end
The breath that sustains life from him may be gone
But good memories of him in all who knew him will live on
One would hope that from life his was a painless release
And may Tony Kelleher that good person in St Mary's rest in peace.

The Battlers

You will find them life's battlers the financially down
In every village and city and town
The people who refuse to believe all hopes of success from their lives has gone
The odds stacked against them but they battle on
The quitter when down on the floor does remain
But the battler does rise for to fight on again
All battlers are people who refuse to fail to succeed
The fore warnings of failure they refuse for to heed
Since they are imbued with a stubborn sense of pride
Of success in life they refuse to be denied
The people in life so determined to win
Though down in their luck they refuse for to give in
To any thought of failure that they may have had
They will know of success since they need it so bad.

The Fact Is We Are Mortals

Though the living their deceased friends do never forget
This evening for some will be their last sunset
In Spring never more for to walk in the park of the town
And hear the birds singing just after sundown

Though from the town in the flesh they may have gone
In their children the seeds of their genes does live on
For in most human beings there is this strong need
Before they die in humanity to plant their seed.

And their children to their children stories will tell
Of how in tough times their grandma and grandad done well
And earned their living in the honest way
And in the making of a better World to live in their own part did play

That we are mere mortals even the most arrogant come to realize
This morning for some has been their last sunrise
Eventually life's reaper on all does call time
The old and the young and those in their life's prime

The fact is we are mortals and fact does not lie
And we are born helpless and as helpless we die
Amongst the living life's Reaper does not have a friend
For all of us life's journey comes to an end.

Stress

It eats it's way into the core of happiness
This mind depressing thing known to all as stress
And from it there does not seem a place for to hide
It can cause deadly cancer and lead some to suicide
People of rank and money it does not even spare
It can affect the poor person and the billionaire
It does reduce people to ill health and tears
And in the mind it inhabits it lingers for years
It does not ignore those at the fashionable address
And it does cause depression and mental duress
The one who does have it feels sad night and day
And happiness from them does seem far away
The one who has stress is always feeling down
And does become known as a sad sack of the town.

Compared To Many

Compared to many my worries must seem light
I never do go to bed hungry at night
I have never been homeless or stateless as so many are
To meet one poorer than i am one  would not need to walk far
Of so many sad stories we hear and  read of every day
Of asylum seekers fleeing oppressive regimes from Lands far away
On distant Islands locked up in prison as if seeking asylum was a crime
For being poor and dispossessed they are serving jail time
Such a tough and sad existence through no fault of their own
So many poor people Worldwide have known
Even escaping persecution of hardship they are not free
How tough life must be for every refugee
In comparison with them my worries seem quite small
In fact i do not have any problems at all.

All I Can Be

I have written of people of Millstreet and Duhallow from here far away
And of places i have not seen for many a day
And of the natural beauty that i have seen
In the woods and the old fields that ever look green
My friends of the past i may never more see
But life in Duhallow goes on without me
And bluebells and snowdrops and primroses in Spring will bloom on the ditch of the bohreen
I only can visualize Nature's beauty i have seen
At the doorstep in years of the three score and ten
Another member of the club of aging men

Though i did have my youth and youth does have it's fling
But for one the realization of aging is a humbling thing
How boring life would be without a few laughs a day
And life is what you make of it as the wise one does say
I am not the first Duhallow migrant and i will not be the last
In moments of nostalgia for to reflect on the past
It was the lust for wander and adventure that took us from Hibernia's shore
And for some for to return to there never more
I last looked on Clara twenty seven years ago
And in this Southern Land  time has become my foe
But the Duhallow accent does remain with me
And a Claraghatlea fellow is all i can be.

How Can There Be Any Hope

Conceit and arrogance to the ego are tied
As well as the feelings of snobbery and pride
The down to earth people nowadays in the few
On saying this i am not saying anything that is new
Those who look up to some more often than not on others look down
There is class distinction in every village and city and town
Equality amongst people would you not agree
Is something that never was or never will be
Quite honorable on what they stand for and on their thinking not small
The people who believe on a fair go for all
But for as long as there is a president and a queen and a king
And for as long as the masses the praises of celebrities do sing
How can there be any hope for equality
Amongst the billions of members of humanity.

Any Hope Of Success

Any hope of success as a writer from me has long gone
But i enjoy rhyming so i will rhyme on
And hopefully this will be till my life's last night and day
Only in death i will give rhyming away
Far south of the waterways of the shy river trout
So many things in life for me for to pen rhymes about
The rhymes i pen easy to read and recite
That comes to me without much effort to write
And so much to write on of Nature out there
The beauty that is around me everywhere
The songs of the birds and the buzzing of the bees
And the sound of the freshening wind in the trees
I am not a poet such a title not for me
An ordinary rhymer is all i can be.

Though I Have Seen

Though i have seen in their wild state emu, koala, wallaby and roo
I have not seen the Pyramids or been to Timbuctoo
Or see a Summer sunrise light the sky at daybreak
Above the waters of Lake Baikal the World's largest spring lake

I have heard the birds singing at the break of day
In Spring in the leafy woods of the Catskills from here far away
And in St Davids in Wales on a long gone May
I have seen the white waves roll into Lleithy bay

I have seen the snow on Mt Fugi in Japan
Though this does not mean i am a well traveled man
So much of the World that i never will see
So many have seen much more of it than me

Though some wonders of Nature i have witnessed with my eyes
From the boiling terminal springs in Rotorua i have seen the steam rise
Memories of the strong smell of sulphur in the air with me does stay
Old memories do linger as some like to say

In the high woods of Yarra Ranges  home to Kookaburra, crimson rosella, wombat and pied and gray currawong
I have heard the magpies, whipbirds, lyrebirds and gray shrike thrushes in song
Yet so much of the World that i never will see
And so many have seen far more of it than me.

Peter Moynihan

In Lackadota in the flesh never more to be seen again
But good memories of him in all who knew him will remain
One who loved his children and his deceased wife
Peter Moynihan a good man who did live an honorable life

To live as a good person his claim to renown
In the past on Sunday always seen with his wife and children in the church in Millstreet Town
To his beliefs on the way he lived Peter did remain true
And this only saying of him what to his memory is due

He will be missed not alone by his family but by his many friends in the Parish of Millstreet
As he was such a likeable person and always a pleasure to meet
He was such a kind man and to many such a good friend
And sad to learn his life's journey has come to an end

It has been known for awhile health- wise Peter was not a well man
But at least eight decades of years his life's journey did span
From anyone in need of his help he never turned away
The Human World in need of more of his kind today

One can only hope his parting from life was a painless release
And in St Mary's by Cashman's Hill may he now rest in peace
And though the living breath that sustains life from his body may have gone
Good memories in all who knew him in life of him will live on.

Only The Memories

Though old Clara's face i may never more see
In my mind the mental pictures are living in me
Of the times i climbed the high fields of Claramore up to the old hill
The memories are with me as if time stood still

Perhaps i will never more see Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
Since i last see the old fields many Seasons ago
My balding head gray and time has become my foe

To many in Millstreet i would be a stranger today
And the clock on my life ever ticking away
The babies when i left there now in their life's prime
And in memory one can only go back in time

Perhaps i will never again hear the robin sing
On a leafy birch tree in the prime of the Spring
And only the memories with me does remain
Of what used to be but will never be again.

Laughing Billy

I have yet to see him feeling sad and down
No doubt Laughing Billy is the happiest man in the town
He does not have children or he does not have a wife
But he is one who has laughter in his life
In his early fifties his hair silver gray
The man who enjoys a few good laughs every day
The man who enjoys beer, music, dancing and song
On Saturday night in the local pub he joins in the sing along
He is one who does live up to his nickname
Every day he is happy he is always the same
If he does have troubles them he does not show
As happy a person as one could wish to know
He enjoys a good laugh and can tell a good joke
The likeable Laughing Billy is quite a good bloke.

George The Poet

George the Poet is a person of fun
He recites his poetry whilst eating his bun
And drinking coffee at the Downtown Cafe
His sort of person a dying breed of today
A modern poet with words he has a way
A true poet those who know of poetry of him do say
To be a good wordsmith his claim to renown
Considered to be the best poet in the town
He is separated from Rina his wife
His love of poetry has cost him his baby daughter Jo and her mother the love of his life
She told him to get a job and give writing poetry away
Or otherwise with him she would not stay
But George choose the poetry and as the wise one did say
For our choices in life there is some price to pay.

You Often Reflect

You often reflect on the hardships you have known
Of the worries that you have that are all of your own
Making since you have made many a bad financial choice
You even speak with a tinge of sadness in your voice

You feel sad when you think of your mistakes of the past
And the clock on your life ever keeps ticking fast
But you cannot change the past since the past it has gone
And only the fear of death makes you want to live on

But few wish to know of you when you are financially down
And a sad one indeed is the sad sack of the town
You do not have any success stories of which to tell
And you feel you are one of the never do well

For our every mistake there is some price to pay
And for winners there are losers as some like to say
And though mistakes of the past may be hard to forget
Not much point in living a life of regret

You often reflect on mistakes you have made
Our errors in judgment from our thoughts slow to fade
But what point in living a life of self blame
When life all around you goes on as the same.

An Asset To Humanity Indeed

Olympic gold medals you may never win
But you can make the World better to live in
By living as a good person in your side of the town
And in your words or deeds never put anyone down
And always be willing to help those of your help in need
For to grow for yourself good Karma you must plant the good seed
Your greed for financial power may make you a money billionaire
But if you only take and are not willing to share
Some of your wealth amongst people in dire poverty
You are not an asset to humanity
You may not be a billionaire or you may never win Olympic gold
And your life story in book form may never be told
But if you live as a good person and are willing to help anybody of your help in need
Then you are an asset to humanity indeed.

Nearly A Thousand Millimeters Of Rain

Nearly a thousand millimeters of rain have fallen in Millstreet County Cork in Ireland over a three month spell
Those who first broadcast this story did not have a good story to tell
Of a Country that already has had far too much rain
Climate Change has many fluctuations in weather as the environmental scientists explain

In the 2013-14 Winter in Ireland new rainfall records were set
Those who lived through such weather are not likely to forget
The flooding from the overflow of every river, stream and drain
An experience they will not wish for to live through again

Of cold and wet Irish Winters i am one who should know
When the heavy sleety rain on the hills melt the January snow
But more than three hundred millimeters of rainfall a month seems unbelievable to me
Climate Change in it's wet form is how it seems to be

Nearly a thousand millimeters of rainfall in three months does almost seem blowing
Thousands of acres of ground under water from waterways overflowing
The Romans name for Ireland was Hibernia which means 'Place of Winter' does seem apt enough
Weather-wise the 2013-14 Winter there by all accounts rougher than rough.

Why Many Refer To Them As The Honorable

Why many refer to them as the honorable i do wonder why
Since it is to truthful people the word honor ought to apply
And since to tell the truth most politicians do not even bother to try
The beauty in honor their kind do deny

In Parliament of their political opponents they have few kind words to say
And in the chamber of power their power games they do play
Name calling and taunting each other like bully school children they do not behave in an honorable way
As a group not the most honorable people in the World of today

But they are good at lying for to give them their due
And to the art of good liars they remain ever true
To lie to them comes natural as natural as can be
They do not seem honorable people to me

Most politicians do surely know how to deceive
And bigger fool you if their words you believe
With honest looking faces lies they do tell
They are good at lying and they do it quite well.

I Have Been Told By Some

I have been told by some in rhyme words myself i repeat
This not to be proud of as a remarkable feat
But we all do repeat ourselves from time to time
It does happen often in prose and in rhyme
But why should i worry what some of me say
Since with rhyming words i like for to have a play
I am addicted to rhyming it does seem this way
And i hope to be doing it on my last night and day
Anybody can pen rhymes is how it seems to be
And doing it is never an effort to me
I do enjoy rhyming of this why should i lie
And i hope to be doing it on the day i do die
And what i consider to be negative advice i do not wish to hear
Since my retirement from rhyming to me nowhere near.

The Moyne

In the flat coastal country by night and by day
With a quiet babble the dark Moyne slowly winds on it's way
On towards Griffith Island to the Pacific shore
It has flowed forever and will forever more
The river that has inspired story and rhyme
The Moyne it was very old in the Dreamtime
And even in the age of the dinosaurs it was very old
The true history of the rivers too old to be told
To us air breathing mortals time becomes our foe
But the Seasons do come and the Seasons do go
And millions of mortals to life have come to and from have gone
But the ageless old Moyne to the ocean flows on
The river that has inspired song, story and rhyme
It was very old even in the Dreamtime.

For My Mistakes In Life

For my mistakes in life i only have myself  for to blame
And for everyone else it has to be the same
But from our mistakes we should learn as the wise one does say
Though some slow to learn it does seem this way
Blaming others for your mistakes is not a good idea
It is a cop out it does seem to me
But some people are shackled by the victim mentality
Suppose this is their way of seeking sympathy
We all do experience the ups and downs of life
And most of us do know about inner strife
But for our own mistakes we must take responsibility and try to learn as we live
For to forgive others yourself you must forgive
Blaming others for your mistakes friends for you never gain
Better to learn from them than about others complain.

The True Australians

The true Australians have in them empathy
And for the sufferings of others they feel sympathy
They do not look down on the homeless the stateless and those in poverty
But sad to say in their own Country they are in a minority

To the good people of humanity the true Australians belong
All forms of racism and xenophobia they condemn as wrong
And in word or deed never put anyone down
Though people like they are strangers to renown

The true Australians are honorable in every way
Respect to all of all races they are always willing to pay
They are the unsung heroes and heroines of the great Southern Land
They live by a code of honor though those with far less compassion more respect seem to command

The true Australians can feel proud for to take their place
Amongst the great people of the human race
They embrace the great beauty on the fair go for all
And in their ways and thinking in them nothing small

The true Australians are people i can only admire
And of singing their praises i never do tire
On what they believe in pure beauty they create
It is people like they are make Australia great.

The Sun In The Gray Clouds

The sun in the gray clouds is hidden away
And the dark welcome swallows are flying low today
It has rained heavily this morning and more rain seems near
The Southern March as weather goes a changeable time of year
Last night from my bed i could hear the frogs sing
Their songs of change in the weather to me it did bring
From listening to Nature insights we do gain
The tiny amphibians always sing before and during rain
The day sunless and cool with a freshening cool breeze
And the dark currawongs singing on the tall trees
They are Nature's forecasters of rain, sleet or snow
Of pending change in the weather some birds seem to know
The gray clouds of rain are in the evening sky
And low above the ground the welcome swallows fly.

A Fringe Dwelling Man

One without a tribe and one without a clan
He is what one might call a fringe dwelling man
In the prime of his life yet to many not known
He does not have friends one always on his own
He does not play tennis or cricket or golf or football
In fact sport it does not interest him at all
He never goes to the pub where the locals meet to socialize
The house that to most local scandals to gives rise
He did have a girl friend for a brief time span
Till she fell in love with another young man
But he does not miss her since he had become aware
That little in common they did have to share
His main interest in life is making art out of clay
A talent that earns him his living pay.

On Looking Back The Seasons

On looking back the Seasons i realize how quickly time has gone
And the clock on my life ever keeps ticking on
Some four decades ago i was in my life's prime
And now in my late sixties i am running out of time
Far north of where i now live my life's journey began
And i look and i feel like an aging man
Though in my long gone prime in the distant past
I was one of those who could never run fast
And my fastest pace nowadays for my age even slow
But time on the best of them does eventually show
Twenty seven years ago i last saw my first homeplace
And there to many today mine would be a stranger's face
The boy of the fifties is now an aging man
And in the twilight years of his living span.

Some May Say Of You

Some may say of you that you are not good enough
But the tough does get going when the going it gets tough
To the club of losers you do not belong
You have the will in you to prove your critics wrong

And though you may be found to be wanting when put to the test
Only one amongst many can be the best
And in a World of fewer winners than losers many have to lose
Though losing is something anyone does not choose

The tag of loser to many does apply
And all you can do is give it your best try
But once down is no battle as some like to say
And always for you there is another day

When you will accomplish what you set out to achieve
Since in your ability you do believe
With the will to succeed you do keep the faith
And like is said everything does come to those who do wait.

A March Evening In Warrnambool

The silver gulls mewing above Lady Bay
And in the blue sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
The welcome swallows chasing flying insects do chirp as they fly
The dark fleet winged speedsters of the southern sky
The children do laugh on their way home from school
On a beautiful March evening in Warrnambool
Near where the Merri waters deep, dark and slow
On towards the great Pacific ocean does flow
The rumble of the white surf waves in the distance i hear
Earthly Utopia to this place would have to be near
The leaves on the deciduous trees turning to brown.
In Autumn so much natural beauty in Warrnambool Town
To be in a place so scenic and peaceful how lucky can one be
The luckiest man in the World must be me

Lost In Definition

I struggle to define the definition between buddy and friend and mate
Lost in definition i have been of late
Though seemingly similar the words buddy, mate and friend
In them may vary in meaning why otherwise pretend
The difference between musical, lyrical and libretto may not seem that great
But in meaning they vary as much as buddy, friend and mate
Words that apply to similar things may vary in meaning would you not agree
At least anyhow this is how it does seem to me
Lost in definition a problem that is mine
Between words with similar meanings i find it hard to define
The word canine can apply to a dog as well as to teeth
And though of similar meaning a difference between pride and conceit
The words lost in definition to me does apply
That i am not a bright person i will not deny.

The Pride Of Millstreet

With shoulder length wavy hair of hazel brown
She bloomed like a fair rose in the Duhallow town
And eyes of dark blue as blue as the ripened sloe
With the warmth of sunshine in her cheerful hello

A beautiful woman then in her life's prime
Though this is going back near six decades in time
She hailed from near the place where the rivers do meet
The beautiful and charming Pride of Millstreet

In her early twenties vivacious and bright
One of the fairest in the Star Ballroom on the weekly dance night
But the wanderlust in her for the big World out there
And her life's journey from Millstreet led her to places elsewhere

Cannot say if she married and gave birth to children and cannot even say
If she is deceased or living today
Far from old Duhallow where her life's journey began
And where she grew into a beautiful young woman

One i was never to lay eyes on again
And only the memories with me now remain
Of the beautiful one from near where the rivers do meet
When i was a boy she was the Pride of Millstreet.

Karina

The old town for her living in it a much better place
As she always does have a big smile on her face
A beautiful person with a charm of her own
For her warm ways she is well loved and known

A widowed grandmother in her early seventies her hair silver gray
To help other people she goes out of her way
Quite religious and true to her religion as a religious person should be
For those doing it tough she feels great empathy

Karina a woman i can only admire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
In stature as a person with age she does grow
She surely is one who has the inner glow

A people's person she does care about others welfare
People like her in the World to say the least rare
People like her quite happy to give to receive
On such a philosophy she does believe

Karina is one i see often though not every day
The town better for her in it seems a fair thing to say
She greets everyone with a smile and a hello
And joy always with her to wherever to she does go.

I Do Have My Flaws

I do have my flaws of that i am aware
But people who have flaws have never been rare
There are many flawed people living like me
The flawless are quite few would you not agree?
I have been in many a town and walked on many a street
But the perfect person i have yet for to meet
Suppose to be flawed is to be human as some like to say
At least anyhow it does seem this way
Yet one can only seek to what one it is due
And only to self one can only be true
The one who tries to be all things to all people may become well liked and widely known
But he or she it does seem does not have a mind of their own
I do have my flaws of this why should i lie
And they will be with me till the day i do die.

Eily Greaney

Her name was Eily Cronin before she became the late John Joe Greaney's wife
She died in Lackabawn Near Millstreet Town  where she had lived for most of her life
A good wife to John Joe and to her children a good mother and a good person in every way
And her many friends and her grieving family are worse off for her passing today

In Millstreet she first looked on the light of day
And in St Mary's near where she lived her last remains at peace now lay
In Lackabawn her's will be a sadly missed face
In her role in her family none to take her place

In Millstreet one loved by many and to many well known
And in her passing Millstreet has lost one of it's own
In her long and well lived life her friends in numbers did grow
And one can say of her she had the inner glow

In the flesh in Lackabawn never more to be seen
But in all who knew her good memories of her will remain evergreen
One can only hope that her parting from life for her was a painless release
And in life Eily Greaney who was such a good person may she now rest in peace.

In Duhallow In Mid March

The cattle in the farmyard shed bellow for silage or hay
And gray fog on the mountain tell rain is not far away
And March blows with a chilly breath on this cold day in early Spring
And though new leaves are budding on the trees few birds feel the urge to sing
In the fields of Duhallow Blackwater bank high flow
And few wildflowers are in the field and grass is slow to grow
The farmers are not happy Spring will be late this year
Low on feed for their cattle and fodder to buy is dear
Last Summer often wet and windy and many days of rain in the Fall
And the Winter was cold, wet and windy the Seasons have not been good at all
And though Spring has not begun well one can only hope for better weather ahead
For happiness does never stay in the mind where hope is dead
The bellowing of the hungry cattle in the farm sheds one does hear
In Duhallow in mid March it looks like Spring will be late this year.

The Lessons In Life

The lessons in life they are not in the few
But every day we live we learn something new
A lesson or two to be learned every day
We do never stop learning some like to say
But for our lessons in life for us some price to pay
If not financially then in some other way
Yet everyone grows older but few do grow wise
Though that many seem open to learning is not a surprise
Many learn from their mistakes is how it seems to be
At least anyway this is how it seems to me
But if in Karma you are willing to plant the good seed
And help the one of your help who is in need
Then as a good person you are doing okay
And good things will happen for you one day.

In Us We All Do Have

In us we all do have our own inner voice
And on how we treat others we do have the choice
Do not expect respect from others if respect to them you do not show
Some people sad to say lack in the inner glow
The respect that you give in return you do receive
This is something that i as an individual on firmly believe
If you wish for good Karma in your life for it you must pay
This is how life is and it has always been this way
It does not mean you are a failure if you are in financial poverty
At least anyway this is how it seems to me
The financially wealthy person who embezzles from others for financial gain
The status of an honorable person cannot hope to attain
In us we all do have our own inner voice
And on how we treat others we do have the choice.

Robert Hartman

A poet and an artist and a remarkable man
One devoted to his family and his wife Mary Ann
And yet quite a character in his own way
We need more like Robert Hartman in the Human World of today

He is known to some as Robert Vanderhope
And though he is not devout like Francis the Pope
He lives as a good person and never harms anyone
And he is a proud dad to a famous daughter and son

Clever, wise and well educated yet without conceit
A fellow like Robert always a pleasure to meet
From people like him life's insights one does gain
To accommodate the amount of knowledge he has he must have a huge brain

A character and quite a humorous bloke
With a subtle dry humor in his every joke
One in his early seventies he is rather wise
And in the depth of his knowledge Robert does surprise

For to make himself known he does not go out of his way
Yet a humble quiet achiever of him one might say
A good person though not devout like Francis the Pope
Robert Hartman known to some as Robert Vanderhope.

We Age Rather Quickly

The great gift of youth is a wonderful thing
And youth as is said it does have it's fling
The young person moves fast the old one moves slow
On saying this i am saying something you do know
In the prime of my life some four decades ago
I never thought then time would become my foe
But the Seasons pass quickly i have come to realize
And time has left me older but sadly not wise
The boy of the fifties showing his years in gray
And clearly he has known a far better day
We quickly do age in the years past our prime
And only in memory we can go back in time
The young may well feel they have time on their side
But that we age rather quickly cannot be denied.

Big Brother's Judgmental Army

If Big  Brother's judgmental army dismiss you as a loser in this for you no shame
As long as you treat everyone as the same
And never harm anyone financially or physically to bring on yourself ill fame
Then you can feel proud you honor your good name
The judgmental of course on you will have their say
For to pigeon hole other people is their life's chosen way
It is they who build up the status of the millionaires of the town
Though such people may not have any claim to renown
And in their words of praise the flawed wealthy they do crown
And on their ill formed judgments drag poor battlers down
You are a good person who lives without greed
And are willing to help anyone of helping in need
Then at living a successful life you are doing okay
Despite what the judgmental of you have to say.

Jim And Rover

His wife took their young son and daughter and left him but rover his dog true to him did stay
But sadly the grand old black labrador with Jim lives only in memory today
He buried his old friend in the backyard in the shade of the black wattle tree
Your dog does remain as your loyal friend with this Jim would surely agree

Old Rover had lived fourteen Summers till his heart did give out in the end
Jim he found him dead in the backyard and wept at the loss of a friend
When he came home from work in the evening Rover welcomed him  at the gate
And his black tail wagging in delight as if to say welcome home mate

Rover to Jim was devoted the love of a dog it is true
And Jim of the old dog took good care he felt it was only his due
Since rover died he has not been out walking he used to walk the old dog every day
A dog helps to keep some men active and with Jim it does seem this way

His wife took their young son and daughter to live with her new lover man
He thought they might grow old together but all things in life don't go to plan
But Rover his faithful companion as his loyal friend did remain
And Jim will tell you he will never have a friend like his old dog again

The loss three years ago of his wife and his children to another man on Jim did prove a heavy cross
But Rover his faithful old dog mate helped him to get over his loss
Three months ago Rover died suddenly in his grave in the backyard his last remains lay
Our happy times often become sad memories in life it is always this way.

Only In Memory

I am one from west of the Town of Millstreet from where i now live far away
From those old fields that were green on all Seasons i used to see old Clara every day
But the lust for wander for years had been in me and from there my journey southward did begin
I yearned for to see some of the big World out there suppose in life nothing venture nothing win
My friends of the past getting older like me they have known a better day
Time does take it's toll on most things it even rusts iron away
I have not seen them for many Seasons and time ever keeps ticking on
Like me the years would have left them walking slower and like me their best years would be long gone
With them i used to play football long before time became my foe
The memories remain of my younger years but that was a long time ago
The prime years they seemed to go quickly and few things do stay as the same
I was a young man of the sixties and back then had daydreams of fame
But most people do have their daydreams and time seems to tick along fast
And it is only in memory that we can hope for to return to the past.

It Is My Enemies Who Rule Me

Our Government from terrorists say they will protect us yet all they seem to do is broadcast fear
To stay in power they prey on the voters phobias and negativity pays for them it does appear
They tell us who to like and who to dislike and they tell us who should be our friend and foe
And the gullible voters do vote into parliament the people whose thinking does belong to years ago
They tell us the wealthy miners should not pay taxes the people who made their billions on indigenous people's land
But the indigenous people amongst the Nation's poorest forgive me if i do not understand
A working person who is paying taxes and votes for a Government who refuse to tax any mining billionaire
It does not make sense to me that anyone should vote for people who for them or their kind do not even seem to care
The soldier who fights on the side of the enemy is ostracized as a traitor and from persecution and execution has to hide away
But we do give our political enemies the power to rule us when the majority vote for them on election day
Perhaps i am becoming confused in my thinking at least to most this is how i might seem to be
I ought to respect them for their way of thinking the people who think differently to me
But i feel it is my enemies who rule me and this is something i do not appreciate
At present i feel my mind of ideas is empty i do need something in my life to celebrate.

My Journey In Life

My journey in life began in Claraghatlea near the Town of Millstreet
A short walk through the fields to where the rivers do meet
The old fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
In the home to the badger and silver back crow
When the stream to the river bank high did flow
And old Clara wore a hat of December snow
When i left the old countryside by Millstreet Town
Since then many street i have walked up and down
This is going back in time near twenty eight years ago
And the old clock of time since has become my foe
The hair on my balding head is silver gray
And clearly i have known a far better day
And only the memories with me do remain
Of what used to be and will not be again.

At The Funeral Of Dennis O' Keeffe

Felix Meagher playing his fiddle at the grave of Dennis O' Keeffe a sad sight sight to see
At least anyway this is how it seemed to me
His way of farewelling his musician friend
Whose journey in life had come to an end

For everyone to life there is a last farewell
And of their deceased friends the living stories left to tell
It was Felix's way of saying to his friend Dennis goodbye
On a warm Autumn evening in Tower Hill with the sun in the sky

The speeches were made and the eulogy read
And for Dennis O' Keeffe the grave side prayers were said
And as the funeral mourners to their cars made their way
Felix Meagher for Dennis a farewell tune did play

For his musician friend who has lived his last day
Who in Tower Hill amongst friends and family lay
Together they had drunk and made merry and music they played
It is from the good times good memories are made

At The Lake School in Koroit to Tower Hill quite near
Dennis will be remembered by his friends next year
And Felix on his fiddle a tune he will play
For a deceased member whose spirit in memory with them does stay.

On This St Patrick's Day

Since i was born and raised in Ireland from here in miles far away
Perhaps i should have a few green beers on this St Patrick's day
In memory of the long gone days of the what used to be
To say i am not Irish would fool no one but me
In towns, villages and cities all over Ireland today people celebrate
They will drink, dance and make merry and party on till late
For Patrick's Day in Ireland it comes but once a year
Though weatherwise the weather there is seldom dry and clear
And St Patrick's Day parades in Ireland often held in the rain
But of poor and broken weather the Irish never do complain
Today for to celebrate i need not walk that far
I will have a few green beers in the local public bar
And the fiddler on his fiddle Irish tunes will play
And the singer will sing songs of Ireland far away

I Hope Again To Climb On Clara

I hope again to climb on Clara on a Summer day in July
When little brown lark rise from the bracken to sing as upwards he does fly
And singing as he is ascending that he is Nature's supreme aerial songster none ought to deny
In fancy i can hear him singing a musical speck in the sky
So often i stood on old Clara and gazed on the green countryside
The scenery from Clara quite beautiful that stretches for miles far and wide
Around the borders of Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra beyond the high country of Knocknagree
From the bracken and heather clad slopes of old Clara there is so much beauty to see
I hope again to climb on Clara old Clara from here far away
When the blue whortleberries are on the heather on a sunny July Summer day
And eat my fill of the ripe berries and then sit and gaze on the beauty for miles around
The beautiful scenery of the Cork and Kerry border is amazing from the higher ground
I hope again to climb on Clara on a sunny Summer day in July
When the little brown skylark is singing a musical speck in the sky.

Jimmy Hooker

For one who claims to be illiterate unable to read or to write
In his head he composes good poetry that in pubs and clubs he does recite
The Tennant Creek aboriginal poet Jimmy Hooker is surely one worthy of note
I have seen and heard him reciting his poetry on You Tube this fine entertainer and poet

One born to be an entertainer and an asset to the Wordsmith Trade
Jimmy Hooker is one who makes a case for the old saying of poets are born not made
One not born into advantage in life he has made his own way
That Tennant Creek better for him living in it does seem quite a fair thing to say

A credit to his indigenous people and a credit to Tennant Creek Town
Jimmy Hooker has made it in the hard way to earn his spot in  renown
His life is a huge success story more than a poet quite a character indeed
Of more people like him the Human World is surely quite badly in need

One cannot say of Jimmy Hooker that he is one who is well read
Since he is known to be illiterate his poems he compose in his head
Yet despite the handicap of disadvantage such beauty he does create
Had he a good education he would have been a poetic great.

The Best Things In Life

The sun in the blue sky is shining it is such a beautiful day
And above the trees and the bushes white butterflies dance in an aerial display
The silver billed magpies are warbling in the warmth of the mid March sunshine
This summery early Autumn weather is something that does suit me fine

On a day like this why not i feel happy since i will be forever dead
With darkness and earth all around me and beneath and above my head
As i sit here in the backyard in the shade of a wattle sipping a pleasant red wine
I realize that i am very lucky since the pleasures of life are all mine

Where i was raised by bracken clad mountains the sky often rainy and gray
I used to daydream of sunshine in Southern Lands from there far away
The local farmers are not happy in drought like conditions for them no financial gain
But with warm weather i feel quite happy since i do know too much about rain

The luckiest man in the World today it would have to be me
As i sit drinking red wine out of the sunshine in the shade of a black wattle tree
A silver billed magpie is warbling and Nature's beauty is all around for to see
Enjoying what cannot be bought by money since the best things in life they are free.

Big Joe

Big Joe is one who knows much about football
But of life in general he does not know that much at all
If you wish to hear his loud voice you do not have to walk far
With his mates every night he is in the local bar
The main topic amongst Joe and his friends is football every night
And on the game he does love he has much insight
On the statistics and results of games played long ago
The person for to ask of this would be Joe
But on general knowledge others he lag behind
On such matters not one of the enlightened kind
In his early thirties a big broad shouldered man without children or fiance or wife
Football and beer are his passions in life
He knows all about present days teams and players and teams and players from the long ago
If you wish to know about football the one to talk to is Joe.

Magpie Larks

From human dwellings never too far away
Dainty black and white birds that i do see and hear every day
Known as magpie larks or mudlarks or to some as pee wee
Birds familiar to many and familiar to me
In small family groups they defend territory
And build a cup shaped nest of mud on fork of low branch of tree
They sing their song which sounds like pee wee many times every day of the year
Their familiar and distinctive voices quite pleasant for to hear
Familiar medium sized birds with ways of their own
In all parts of Australia magpie larks are well known
Every day i hear and see them in the town park
The mud nest building birds known as magpie lark
From where humans live they are never far away
Magpie larks are birds i see and hear every day

It Always Will Be This Way

A minority live in Earthly Heaven and the majority live in Earthly Hell
And many grow financially poorer for a few to do financially well
This is how it is and always has been and this is how it always will be
And success to you may seem different than how success does seem to me
You laugh and the whole World laughs with you a truism from the long ago
And the unhappy one who dwells on self pity becomes her's or his own greatest foe
Sadness does always seem absent in the place where joy is to be found
I do love the sweet lilt in laughter it is such a beautiful sound
The wealthy one though quite unhappy is better off it does seem to me
Than the poor person lacking in money quite unhappy in poverty
Human life is about winners and losers and for one to win some have to lose
And everyone aims to be a winner and losing anyone does not choose
A minority own most of the money  in the Human World of today
This is how it is and it has been and it always will been this way.

For Me Like Everybody Else

For me like everybody else there will be a last December
And it does not even bother me if none me do remember
And though like everybody else i do have a life story
You will not hear anybody say of me he scaled the heights of glory
But i whose life journey began far north of here from by the road to Kerry
Is one who often laughs at life and knows how to make merry
Life is far too short for worrying in a Human World of little pity
Though sad and lonely people in every village, town and city
And does it really matter if you are one of life's big winners
When amongst the super wealthy you will find many sinners
That we are tainted by the company we choose to keep no use in otherwise pretending
The case for an honorable and a happily lived life is a case worth defending
For me like everybody else there will be a last December
And it does not even bother me if  none me do remember.

On The Passing Of Dennis O' Keeffe

A writer, musician and singer songwriter in his lifetime he made many a friend
Denis O' Keeffe the famous entertainer his lifetime journey has come to an end
One known and loved by many in South West Victoria greatness of the man cannot be denied
For his famous book on 'Waltzing Matilda' Dennis was one who was known Nationwide

An honorable member of the famous O' Keeffe clan he first saw light of day in Warrnambool
In his tender years in the south west coastal City he took his first steps in life and went to school
A lifetime journey that ended for him in his late fifties peace and serenity in Tower Hill where he does lay
In one sense any of us are not different to Dennis for all of us there is a last night and day

In his life Denis O' Keeffe did create a good legacy for himself for to be remembered by
One can say of him that with living in honor he was one who did give it his best try
He was a person blessed with many talents the legacy he left worthy of recall
The bell of farewell it has tolled for Dennis on a March day in the Southern Fall

Dennis O' Keeffe had not been well for a few years he was not granted a long lifetime span
One who to life who had so much more to offer he will be missed as a good and a talented man
From cultural celebrations such as the Lake School in Koroit his passing a huge loss to music and the wordsmith trade
In years from now Dennis will be remembered it is of people like him good memories are made

Though it is quite sad for to learn of his passing he had suffered a lot and need not suffer anymore
In his life he was one who brought joy to many his every performance ended in an encore
He will live on in  his words and his music and the good memories bound to remain
Of one who did bring great joy to so many never to be seen in the flesh again.

If You Are Racist To One

The words of a wise person i do recall
If you are racist to one you are racist to all
For when it comes  to be racist to a person to be racist to that person's race too does apply 
And the truth in a truism one cannot deny

In the minds of the honorable for racism no space
Since they do believe in the equality of race
For racism there is not any room in the enlightened mind
It only lives in the brain of the ignorant kind

Racist people sad to say to be found everywhere
There are many of them in the big World out there
Those who have love in them the love in them with others do share
For the welfare of people they genuinely do care

If you are racist to one you are racist to that person's race the wise woman did say
A truism that remains with me today
All racists are victims of mind poverty
Since the beauty in difference they cannot seem to see.

I Do Not Write

I do not write any writing points for to score
Only to try to understand life and little else more
And though i know little of life of this i will not lie
We do learn every day till the day we do die

They are a rare breed those who make writing pay
And all credit to them for this one has to say
To me rhyming is a hobby with words i like to play
It is something that i like to do every day

We have our life's goals and our dreams to pursue
And we learn as we live does happen to be true
And though the clocks on our lives do tick along fast
We only can learn from our mistakes of the past

I do not write for the success of wealth and renown
Or that i should know of respect on my side of the town
I write for to try to understand life though i have come to realize
That of life i know little and this is not a surprise.

It Can Be Quite Relevant

I am not a high achiever this much i do know
And for my years of life in success i have little to show
But then i ask you what is success anyway
It can be quite relevant as the wise one does say

Yes success indeed can be quite a relative thing
The royalists may sing the praises of the queen and the king
But wealth and power came to them only by chance
Due to the good fortune of birth circumstance

The most successful humans too are mortal why otherwise pretend
Since every life journey does come to an end
And in death the queen and the king only equal to me
Though many with such a statement may not agree

You only can live as good as you can be
And lucky are they who do have empathy
Quite successful people in their own unassuming way
They help those in need of helping every day.

On An Image On The Millstreet Town Website

Ryan Tarrant on a cart pulled by Dan Joe Murphy's donkey Bessie in Knocknakilla
Bring back memories of an old Irish cultural history
I thought nowadays such things not to be seen in Ireland
But thought again has made a fool out of me

It is good to think that such a thing not completely extinct
In modern Ireland in the early twenty first century
A twentieth century thing that has not been lost forever
Though we cannot go back to what once used to be

Though much credit must go to the likes of Dan Joe Murphy
To his kind of person recognition is overdue
For trying to preserve a dying age old tradition
I only say of his kind what is true

The donkey pulled cart was endangered in Ireland
When i was a boy more than fifty years ago
But in changing times there is no return to what was
And modern technology is now conservation's foe

Ryan Tarrant on a cart pulled by  Dan Joe Murphy's Donkey Bessie
A recently taken photograph that has links to the past
It is a changing World that we live in
And in changing times few things do seem to last.

War It Is Criminal

War it is criminal to say otherwise would be a lie
In war zones every day innocent children do die
And women are raped where serious crime it is rife
And little or no value on human life
In war zones many people are badly injured and die every day
Where to kill without mercy or reason to is seen as okay
War brings out the worst in people some who behave in an inhuman way
Where many lose their humanity and this does seem sad to say
In war death by bombings and shootings everyday we read of and hear
All war zones are places of terror and fear
In the refugee camps of the World many a refugee
For fear of their lives their hometowns they do flee
That war it is criminal none ought to deny
And why many celebrate it in parades one must wonder why.

The Cocky Young Bloke

He walked hand in hand with a beautiful young blond some men have all of the luck
He had the swagger of conceit the dark haired cocky young buck
If body language it could speak his would say look at me
Our male egos not hard to inflate is how it does seem to be

They stopped in my view for a quick hug a cuddle and a kiss
The cocky young bloke and his love the sexy looking miss
They did seem so very much in love young love is quick to flower
But it can be also quick to fade like a rose in a cold Autumn shower

Nowadays such public displays of love are not known to be rare
An aging bloke like me at such a thing can only stand and stare
And wish that i were young again to partake in such as this
Young love when it is in full bloom it can be Earthly bliss

As they walked by me hand in hand i wished them a good day
But to my greeting they did not reply did not even look my way
The cocky young bloke and his beautiful young blond in silence passed me by
Then stopped to kiss on the footpath to prove they were not shy.

Three Of The Human Soul Foods

They go rather well with moderate consumptions of beer
Music, dance and song go well with laughter and cheer
And though sometimes sad songs and music can give rise to tears
The soul foods of humanity have been evolving for years
Music, song and dance on them do not have a use by date
They are always present where people remember and celebrate
They can stir up the memories of what used to be
Three of the human soul foods with an old history
The decades go by and times are changing fast
But the old music, songs and dances of the distant past
Passed down through generations are living today
They live on in time and refuse to fade away
As the soul foods of humanity they do remain
They stir the emotions of the human brain.

Have You Ever Felt Nostalgic

Have you ever felt nostalgic for your first homeplace
Though today there to many your's would be a stranger's face
Since the young generation there you would not know
In many years of absence in their old home-place migrants as strangers do grow

The lust of the wander take many young people to elsewhere
In search of adventure in the big World out there
Some never again return to the old hometown
Though they feel nostalgic for what was when they feel down

Have you ever thought of old friends far away
Though them you have not seen for many a day
Nostalgia may lessen as people grow old and gray
But absence makes the heart grow fonder as some do like to say

Have you ever felt a bit sad and quite close to tears
As you thought of the past and your younger years
You are not alone in that there are many like you
And i must confess i have such moments too.

Take People As You Find Them

People are not friendly nowadays as some like to say
But nice people i happen to meet every day
People who do greet me with a smiling face
Such people who make the town for to live in a far happier place
Take people as you find them happens to be true
And not everyone you do meet will be friendly to you
It is true about happiness it is a state of mind
And where happy people are joy too you will find
Like a rose by any other name would smell like a rose
It takes all sorts of people to make up humanity one would have to suppose
And every day i am out walking in the park or on the street
People in different moods i do happen to meet
Some pass me in silence without looking my way
Whilst others do smile and wish me a nice day.

It Should Not Be Of Any Great Effort

It should not be of any great effort to live as a good woman or man
Just help anyone in need of your help if you possibly can
And try not to be judgmental this belongs to a highly paid person in a court of law
And he or she too not free of human flaw
Though it never does make one the toast of the town
It is easy in your words for to put anyone down
Leave trash talking to politicians at putting down of their political opponents they do quite okay
To be negative and critical and judgmental for them seems to pay
Since wealthy people who live as decent are on the side of rare
For to live as a good person you need not be a money millionaire
Just practice the theory of live and let live
And receive in gratitude and in generosity give
It should not be of any great effort for you to live your life in an honorable way
Kindness does beget kindness as the wise one does say.

Campbell The Swaggy

Under the lower branches of the tall trees just after sundown
Campbell nods off to sleep in the park of the town
The man who has lived rough and walked many a mile
But he always seems happy and at life does smile

He has walked the long roads of the brown countryside
Campbell The Swaggy is known far and wide
In Queensland, New South Wales, Victoria and South Australia music festivals he does attend
A well traveled man who has made many a friend

With long scraggly beard and long graying straggly hair
And face wrinkled and dry from life in the open air
One of the last of a dying breed of him one might say
Not many like Campbell in the World of today

A poet and a traveler one loved and widely known
And at reciting bush poetry in a class of his own
He sleeps on his swag under the open sky
The gentle soul Campbell would not harm a fly.

Who Knows About Tomorrow

Who knows about tomorrow it may be your lucky day
And the one who changes people's lives Lady Luck may be smiling your way
So buy that lotto ticket you may have a big win
You cannot be a winner if in the draw you are not in
And winners are always grinners as some are known to say
Tomorrow you may be the one smiling to the lusty hip hooray
Today you are not happy nothing is going your way
But all things do come to those who wait as some are known to say
If you do not experience the hard times the good times you cannot enjoy
Something i learned from a wise woman when i was a boy
Today for you not a good day you are one of the saddest in the town
And few wish to know of you when you are feeling down
Today you tell yourself is living life scarce worth your while
But tomorrow may be better and you may have cause to smile.

Far North Of This Sunny Country

Far north of this sunny Country and far inland from Hibernia's shore
A cold wind from the mountains blow downhill through Rathmore
It can be cold and wet in Sliabh Luachra in early March in early Spring
Before the birds start nest building and the territorial male birds sing
The old stream from the mountain bank high in flood flows brown
By the Cork and Kerry border in the fields near Rathmore Town
In March by the Cork and Kerry border the skies are seldom clear
And the sun it does not often shine in weather-wise a changeable time of year
Sliabh Luachra of great writers and musicians in Seasons now long gone
But in the regions pubs on Winter nights the tradition does live on
To the fiddles and accordions the dancers take to the floor
And at the last dance of the session they call for an encore
Far north of this sunny Country in Sliabh Luachra far away
The fogs of Caherbarnagh tell rain not far away.

With Rhyme Words

With rhyme words i am one who does like to play
And new rhymes do come to my mind every day
But since for my rhymes i never receive any money in pay
Some tell me i should give my hobby away
But i must be an obstinate fellow indeed
Since to their words of advice i never pay any heed
Rhyming has always been easy to me
And without it a miserable man i would be
I am not a poet of that i am aware
But then these sort of people have always been rare
I have been a rhymer since nineteen seventy three
The love for rhyme words made a rhymer of me
And if i told you that i will quite rhyming this would be a lie
Since i hope to be doing it on the day i do die.

Money Is Most Important

Money is most important as most would agree
But Nature's beauty around us we do not pay to see
A silver billed magpie pipes on a tall tree
The very best things in life to us are free
I have loved Nature's beauty since i was a boy
To me she has always been a source of joy
Though many does see it quite different to me
Suppose if we all agreed on all things how boring we would be
Life does have it's lessons it does seem this way
And from Nature we learn something new every day
And for such lessons money one does not have to pay
We never stop learning as some like to say
Money is most important but it is not everything
You do not have to pay for to hear the bird sing.

The Old Fellow Ted

He is many Seasons beyond his life's prime
But one lucky beautiful brunette with him enjoys a good time
Though she confides to her friends he is not much use in bed
She will stay with him for his money the old fellow Ted

Twelve times a great grandfather he left his old wife
For the attractive young beauty the new love in his life
A wealthy old fellow many times a millionaire
The good life with him she is willing to share

The wealthiest old man by far in the town
In his early eighties his gray hair dyed brown
Though money does not bring him back youthful elan
His young partner would not be with him were he a poor man

Not lacking in ego that is to give him his due
And that money speaks every language happens to be true
And the fact is his pretty young partner lovely to behold
Would not be with him were he poor and old

Large amounts of money great pleasure even to an old man does bring
When he is out on the town with her he feels like a king
Yet despite hair dyes and face lifts the years on him show
And though he tries to act young he walks stiff and slow

She is twenty five and he is eighty three
And she is only with him for his money though this he cannot see
But that all men grow older and few do grow wise
Is something old Ted does not seem to realize.

To The Reaper Of Lives

The one who does not respect title, wealth or fame
To the reaper of lives all lives are the same
On every life the one who has the final say
For the monarch and president a last night and day
To egalitarianism surely a true friend
The reaper of lives brings every life to an end
Between the pauper and the billionaire the one who does not differentiate
Yet the one anybody does not celebrate
Though nature's reaper treats everybody  in an equal way
Of the dreaded one kind things anyone never say
Every life nature creates her reaper does take
From the sleep of death anyone never wake
The one who does not respect power, wealth or fame
To the reaper of lives all lives are the same.

Life Is This Way

As long as they do not defame me with lies with me this is fine
For what others think of me is their business not mine
They have their opinions and talk it is cheap
But what we sow in life is what we do reap
If you are one who in your words like putting others down
You will never become the hero of the town
But people like you are not rare sad to say
Since i do meet a few of your sort every day
A very wise elder did once say to me
The flaws we dislike in others in our own selves we do see
But for good Karma in life we must give to receive
On such a philosophy i do believe
And as long as they do not defame me with lies what others say of me okay
What goes around comes around life is this way.

Love Is Not

Love is not a fruit or vegetable in a garden it does not grow
And in their lifetime some the feeling of love never know
It does seem it is a gift of the compassionate and kind
For love there is not much space in the ego swollen mind
There are many sorts of love yes far more than a few
To this you may even say do tell us what is new
The love of a mother for her child usually has a longer time span
To it than a woman has for the love of a man
Love to it has many sides in it's varying degrees
But it cannot be found on the bushes and the trees
Of more people who have in them love the Human World is in need
But it never does survive amongst narcissism and greed
And those who have love in them usually have it for to spare
And the surplus love they have with others are happy for to share.

It Has Been Many Years

It has been many years since he was in his life's prime
But he is writing verses the old man of rhyme
And though the years have left him looking wrinkled and gray
He will be writing rhyme on his last night and day

Ten times a great granddad he has outlived his wife
The woman who was the great love of his life
A few years ago she died in her sleep without any pain
Though the sense of loss with him it does remain

He has been writing rhymes since he was a boy
Something today he does thoroughly enjoy
And though in his early eighties and his physical best years long gone
True to his calling in life he keeps on rhyming on

At the local pub on Saturday night
He recites his poems to his audience's delight
And always for him there is a loud encore
As his fans do beg him for to recite some more.

Old Merri

In and out of Lake Pertobe on towards Lady Bay
Towards the Pacific at Middle Island it slowly winds it's way
Old Merri that has inspired story and rhyme
That was very old in the dinosaur time
In the home of the magpie and the pale eyed crow
Seawards towards the paddocks it ever does flow
With just a faint babble in deep waters of dark brown
On towards the Pacific near Warrnambool Town
Australia's first people had a different name
For the river that flowed for millions of years before their ancestors came
To live in the Southern Land thousands of years ago
To the river time never does become a foe
Thousands of humans to life have come and have gone
Where old Merri to the ocean forever flows on.

Oh Lucky The Person

Oh lucky the person who does laugh every day
For laughter is known to keep worries away
The serious fellow though time on his side
At quite a young age of cancer has died
Though not short of money in his mind for happiness no space
He was never seen with a smile on his face
Laughter the shield against cancer and stress
Was something that he did not seem to possess
His young son and daughter without him doing okay
They have a new father in their lives today
She no longer miss him his widowed wife
Since she has a wealthy middle aged man in her life
At peace in the cemetery his last remains lay
Had he known how to laugh he might be living today.

In Time It Has Been

In time it has been seven years with a score
Since i climbed upon Clara above Claramore
And took in the views of Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra and Gortavehy's face of stone
And Anu's breasts near Rathmore known as the Paps of Shrone

Since i last climbed on Clara to many places to i have been
And a bit of the big World out there i have seen
But many have been in far more Countries than me
In the big World out there always so much to see

The past comes to me when i visualize
And in Spring the little brown lark from the bracken does rise
A musical speck in the gray morning sky
As up to the cloud world to sing he does fly

It has been seven years with a score since the old fields i did see
And all i have now are the memories of what used to be
Of where i first grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy.

Where Hypocrisy Abound

The British, Australian and the Government of the U S of A
Protest about Russia's occupation of the Crimean peninsula and their protest has credence one might say
But a few years ago as we remember these Governments sent their war planes and troops to cause death and destruction  to Countries further away
Than Russia is from Crimea, is what they do okay?

Than what Russia does in Countries closer to their borders yet it does seem to me
That Britain, Australia and the U S Governments are hypocritical in their criticisms is how it seems to be
On their protestations they are trying to claim the high moral ground
But you will not find moral right where hypocrisy abound

The World knows about Putin he is far from a saint
But those to cast the moral stone should be those without taint
And though the Governments of the U S, Australia and Britain, Russia's invasion of the Ukraine territory are right to criticize
That in so doing they are quite hypocritical they ought to realize

Russia's invasion  of the Ukraine again only goes to show
That politicians can be full of hypocrisy of them this much we do know
And it does seem quite hypocritical when these three democratically elected Governments complain
Of the Russian army's invasion of Crimea in the Ukraine.

So Many More Compassionate And Kinder

So many more compassionate and kinder people than me
Though one can only be the best one can be
But sad to think the one helping people who are financially down
Does never become the hero or the heroine of the town
Those with kindness and compassion are good people indeed
And of more of their sort the Human World is in need
If everybody were kind and compassionate there would not be war, famine, homelessness and poverty
And in the World there would not be a stateless person or a refugee
In a Human World where one person's loss becomes another person's gain
The scourge of inequality is destined to remain
And there will be wars and famines and many at a young age will die
Anyone who will tell you that the social gap is not widening believe in their own lie
So many more compassionate and kinder people than me
Though one only can be the best one can be.

On The Day Our Mother Died

For our family such a tearful day to say different would be a lie
In a Cork hospital our mum was dying her wish was to come home to die
But in the family car she did not make it home as she died on the way
We all grow old with memories of our life's saddest day

Though she had not been well for years and had suffered her own share
Poor dad he was a shattered man the grief hard on him to bear
In the cemetery by Cashman's Hill in the same grave their remains lay
And only memories of the past are left with us to stay

Though the cancer eat away her lungs and caused her years of pain
Mum she did battle on for life and never did complain
She fought for life till the very end and with bravery death did face
When a mother leaves the family there is none to take her place

We thought that she might beat the cancer but thought had proved us wrong
Though perhaps for her a happy day as she had suffered for far too long
On a cold February day in nineteen sixty six as i remember well
We heard for mum in Millstreet Town her final farewell bell

No matter what we achieve in life our life's journey does end
And we grieve for the loss of a family member and the loss of a friend
A cold wind blew from Clara Hill across the countryside
When in the family car from Cork our mother Mary Agnes died,

I Must Be A Wimp

I must be a wimp for i feel close to tears
Every-time i do think of my life's long gone years
Of my friends of the past and of what used to be
Though the past it has gone and time does not wait for me
Tomorrow is coming and yesterday has gone
And we live in the now and time is ticking on
But i have memories of the past every day
And now aging past friends in a place far away
In Claraghatlea and in the Town of Millstreet
I would be a stranger there today to most people i would meet
Since i left Claraghatlea twenty seven years ago
The babies back then now in their life's prime and time has become my foe
In the eyes of a real macho man i would be a wimpy bloke
For when i think of the past the tears i have to choke.

I Learned From A Wise Elder

I learned from a wise elder as a boy years ago
That few go through life without making a foe
The truth in her wisdom is with me today
The words of the wise our lifetime with us stay
Few without an enemy why otherwise pretend
Not everyone you know or know of is your friend
And not everyone of you has kind things to say
This is how people are and life is this way
As so few people are without flaw or taint
The one without a foe must be a living saint
Those who tell you they like everyone may be playing the word game of deceit
Since most people for success with each other compete
And the words of a wise one that time had left gray
From the far long ago remain with me today.

Not Good Enough

Since the best of my rhymes seem a little bit rough
I am one of the group known as 'not good enough'
But with rhyming words i do like to have a play
And why should i give something i enjoy doing away
A man from the place of the wild river trout
My journey in life it has brought me far south
To the home of corella and gray kangaroo
And the big dark brown parrot known to some as the weerloo
To the reams of rhymes i have written i add every day
But never for fame or for monetary pay
Though i always feel happy when i am penning rhyme
And to me rhyming is never a waste of time
And since rhyming is never an effort to me
I could be doing worse things would you not agree?

The Wandering Man

Though his pockets often near empty his worries are small
And what others say of him does not bother him at all
He works when he has to for his living pay
And tomorrow from here he may be far away

In the pub he is happiest enjoying his beer
Where he goes to he brings with him laughter and cheer
In his mid twenties with short curly hair of light brown
He does have a girl friend in every town

He does not have the worries of children and wife
The wandering man enjoys the carefree life
Of any responsibility that binds he is completely free
He is a far happier person than me

He does not have a bank debt to worry about
And the responsibility that comes with a sedentary lifestyle he is happy without
Traveling to new places he thoroughly enjoy
He lives the lifestyle he yearned for as a boy

Since he is not shackled by the ties that bind
I do envy him and all of his kind
What others say of him does not bother him at all
The wandering man his worries are small.

On The Beach At Venus Bay

Such a nice day out of doors on this bright and sunny day
Just enjoying a pleasant walk on the beach at Venus Bay
See a young man in his swim wear in the Summer sun he lay
With his blond girl friend by his side looking better than okay

Wearing bikini and brassiere she and he looked tanned and brown
She would surely hold her own with the best in any town
I could not help but stare as i went walking by
He is such a lucky man of him this none can deny

Some young men have all the luck it does seem fair to say
For the aging it is tough it has always been this way
All i could do was admire the great beauty on display
In the warm Summer sun on the beach at Venus Bay

Some men have all the luck i have come to realize
With such beauty to lay with to the ego quite a prize
I am just an aging man and an aging man can only stare
At a young beauty laying in the sun scantily clad in her swim wear

Such a lovely Autumn day in a lovely time of year
With the sea spray on my face the mewing of the silver gulls i hear
A rare beauty met my eyes by her boyfriend she did lay
On the near deserted beach by the Town of Venus Bay.

I Am Lucky Quite Lucky

I am lucky quite lucky in life i must say
I might be living in a war zone today
Or living in a refugee camp as a stateless refugee
I thank lady luck she has been kind to me

Though i am one who cannot boast of high self esteem
I am luckier than most are or so it does seem
Suppose those without any flaws are rarer than rare
As most of us have our crosses in life for to bear

I cannot say that life on me in any way is tough
In that sense suppose i am lucky enough
So i do not have any reason to complain
Not that from grumbling anyone does stand for to gain

I cannot say life to me is in any way unfair
As i could have been homeless or live in a wheelchair
The good lady of luck to me is always kind
And a better friend than her would be hard to find.

I Often Times Think

I often times think of old friends far away
Though them i have not seen for many a day
With them i played football and drank in the pubs of the town
Going back in time many years when my hair was dark brown
The friends of my boyhood and of my life's prime
Like me may have changed over decades of time
And time changes bodily appearance it does work in this way
Some of them i may not recognize were i to meet them today
I often times think of my mentors of the past
Now amongst the deceased few things in life last
I learned from them and them i did admire
And of singing their praises i never do tire
I often times think of my past far away
Where i used to live before my hair turned to gray.

The Battle Of Life

By dying for your Country would you not agree
That you will live on in your Country's war history
But of their worries and cares you will not set your Country's women and men free
The battle of life is enough of war for me

The battle of life has left me looking old and gray
It is a war that i must wage every day
To keep living on through times that are tough
The battle of life for me battle enough

One of my aged neighbors by time left old and gray
A surviving hero from a war fought in a Land far away
His best days in life to the forever gone
But with his battle in life he must carry on

At my grave the Last Post will never be played
But from the living memory i will be happy to fade
When my battle in life it has come to an end
And this too will happen why otherwise pretend

Live every day as if it is your last and one day you will be right
And in your battle of life do keep up the good fight
It is a battle i must wage every day
Life is a battle as some do like to say.

Dan Sheahan The Poet From Meelin '1882-1977'

From Duhallow's green countryside his journey south began
Dan Sheahan the poet from Meelin was a legendary man
He wrote the famous poem The Pub Without Beer
That became a song that most rural Australians revere

Famous Australian singer songwriter Gordon Parsons reworked the poem The Pub Without Beer to a song The Pub With No Beer
That for decades has been sung in pubs and clubs to many a lusty cheer
A song that is known and sung Worldwide
Inspire by a poem by a poet from Duhallow's green countryside

Though by birth to Duhallow his bond it was strong
The source of his fame to Australia belong
In the Queensland sunshine he blossomed as a poet
Where his name does live on as one worthy of note

The Pub Without Beer that brought to it's author Dan Sheahan  fame
Made of the Australian country singer Slim Dusty a legendary name
A song in pubs and clubs in towns in Australia that is sung Nationwide
Based on the poem of a poet from Duhallow's countryside 

Longevity is the test of greatness it does seem this way
And the song The Pub With No Beer it is living today
Inspired by a poem written by Dan Sheahan when in his writing prime
Though this is going back many decades in time

Dan Sheahan who could tell of battles lost and won
A hero under the flag of Australia in World war one
With his wife Molly Walsh on their cane farm in Queensland they raised their family
Dan Sheahan in his long life created his own history

Australians may claim The Pub With No Beer for their own
But of the author of the poem it was based on Dan Sheahan it is widely known
That in Meelin in Duhallow he first saw light of day
From sunny Queensland in Australia in miles far away.

In The City To Stay

He is from the wooded hills of the yellow tailed black cockatoo
The birds known to some people as the weerloo
And though from his hometown in the high country he lives far away
His thoughts return to there more than once every day
He left the mountain town since no job for him there
Circumstance cause many young people for to move to live elsewhere
And the nostalgia in him for the hills does remain strong
But in the big city his future belong
A young man near his prime soon to be twenty three
With years of living ahead of him and more places to see
With a six months old daughter with his wife to be
He does take his role of fatherhood seriously
And though he misses his hometown and friends and family in the hills far away
It does seem he is in the city to stay.

On Long Billed Corellas

In large flocks long billed corellas make a lot of noise
But that they are classified by the W W F as vulnerable is not a surprise
As though their flocks may seem large their range is quite small
And as a species they are not plentiful overall
The most plentiful species of parrot in South West Victoria but considered to be rare
And that they are restricted by suitable territory for them to live in conservationists are aware
You may see them in paddocks in South west Victoria as on the roadway you drive
But with any great changes to their environment as a species they may not survive
Though they live in large flocks to live in they have a small range
And most species of birds do not cope well with environmental change
And the smaller the range the more vulnerable the species of bird seem to be
They do become endangered due to restricted territory
Large flocks of long billed corellas i see every day
But due to restricted territory they are vulnerable those who know better say.

The Fate Of The Rose

A thing of great beauty that has gone to decay
On the grass it's petals are crinkled and dry where they lay
As food for ground insects by their thorny mother tree
In time all beauty does fade is how it seems to be

In full bloom a pink beauty of it one can say
But the fate of the rose will be my fate one day
For my life one day it will come to an end
Since time has become my foe it used to be my friend

The last rose of Summer on it's mother tree did not live till the Fall
The fate of the rose it will be for all
Forms of life this includes you and i
As mortals like the rose we are born to die

But Nature it is quite an amazing thing
The thorny rose tree will grow new leaves in Spring
And in Summer brought to bloom by life giving sun showers
She will look resplendent in her lovely pink flowers

It's petals crinkled and dry by it's mother tree lay on the ground
As food for crawling insects that in numbers abound
It bloomed pink and lovely in the Summer sunshine
But the fate of the rose it will also be mine.

They Feel So Superior

They feel so superior of them one can say
The egotistical people i meet every day
Their large egos swollen of self conceit
I never find their sort a pleasure to meet

Though the praises of the town's quiet achievers anyone never does sing
They have the gift of humility and this is a great thing
My respect for such people it only does grow
As they have what is known as the inner glow

One of the town's best places for self promotion is the local bar
A few with big egos there let it be known of how marvelous they are
Of the narcissistic kind every town has it's share
It is a bit sad to think that their kind are not rare

Leave it to others to praise you from self praise abstain
And though some will tell you out of being humble the humble never stand for to gain
The one with humility does not have a big ego to feed
And of more of these sort of people the Human World is in need

Of egotistical people i do know of a few
And in saying the World is not better for them living in it is not saying anything that is new
They never do bring any joy to my day
And to meet them i never go out of my way.

Jerry Corkery

Jerry Corkery lived in Coomlogane all of his life
And there he raised his children with Joan Cahill his wife
In St Mary's by Cashman's Hill his last remains now lay
He must have been in his eighties when he passed away

In his prime one of the strongest and hardest working in the countryside of Millstreet
His old home not far from where the rivers do meet
He was one well liked and to many was known
And in his death Millstreet has lost one of it's own

An honorable fellow for to give him his due
I only can say of the man what is true
A good family man and to many a good friend
So sad to learn his life's journey has come to an end

He will be missed from Millstreet Parish and Town
To live as a good person his claim to renown
The World was better for him living in it of him one can say
But for all of us there is a last night and day

Though in the flesh in Millstreet never more to be seen
In all who knew him good memories of him will remain evergreen
From life for us all there is a final release
The good man Jerry Corkery may he now rest in peace.