Addicted To Rhyming

Addicted to rhyming i pen rhymes every day
It is something that if i even wanted to i could not give away
I have been a rhymer since nineteen seventy three
The bug of the rhymer is living in me
In seventy three i was in my physical prime
And this is going back more than four decades in time
And though my best years of life in the forever gone
I live for to rhyme one reason i rhyme on
To pen rhymes it is easy as easy as can be
Cow rhymes with sow and bee rhymes with tree
As a young man i daydreamed of becoming a poet
Quite a famous person one of literary note
But daydreams are just that as the wise one does say
Though i do enjoy rhyming and i rhyme every day.

Memories Of Lisnaboy

Memories of my early lessons in Nature's ways to me remain a source of joy
I loved the old rushy fields of Lisnaboy
When wildflowers were on the ditch of the bohreen
And the countryside was looking healthy and green

The Boggeragh Ranges a beautiful sight
Clara, Gortavehy, Kippagh and Caherbarnagh in the evening sunlight
Displayed a calm and a natural charm of their own
Such beautiful memories a joy to have known

The past it has gone but the memories remain
Of places in fancy i often visit again
I remember the brown bees who lived in a mossy patch on the ground
If you accidentally trod on their nest they made a loud buzzing sound

Which was a clear warning from the scene for to run
For to be stung by angry bees is never any fun
The past to the present with us seems to stay
Good memories from us never do go away

Nature at her finest was all around me
And a male robin sang on a leafy birch tree
In early Summer in the rushy fields of Lisnaboy
Such beautiful memories live on as a source of joy.

I Am One Of Many

I am one of many born and raised elsewhere
Who went to see life in the big World out there
But wherever you go to life's challenges you will meet
And one does not find gold on any town or city street
Though very few dreams have been known to come true
We all have our own dreams in life to pursue
The stay at home fellow i envy in a way
Where he is born and raised in he is happy to stay
He falls in love with a local girl and she becomes his wife
And together they raise their children and grow old in life
Happy in his hometown i envy him indeed
For to see the big World in him there is not the need
I went to see the big World out there but so little of it i did see
Yet the stay at home fellow is happier than me.

The President Loved By Many

The President loved by many was buried today
His casket carried by trailer through the streets in a tearful public display
By many of the people watching from the crowded pavements as the cortege went by
Tears for one many of them had never even spoken to one does wonder why
People weep for one they do not even know who died as an old man
And who had lived a glorious and a very successful life span
But the hero to many is not a hero to all
Some admired political leaders in some of their ways can be small
And though the praises of their so called former great leader the majority may sing
He did not believe in the most important human right and this is a sad thing
And though they weep for a man they did not even know
Any compassion for condemned people he never did show
Because of it's Government poor human rights the consequences they must face
And he is the one responsible that in his Country the death penalty is in place.

The Man Who Feared Death

The battle is over the war heroes are dead
And of how brave that they were in books we have read
But the army deserter is living today
And by all accounts for himself he is doing okay

With two teenage daughters and a beautiful wife
He lives far from his home Country happy in his life
Where nobody knows or care that from the battle he ran
Perhaps he will die peacefully in his sleep as a very old man

Many of his army comrades in Mother Earth lay
For their fame as dead heroes with their lives they did pay
But he is living and happy thanks mainly to fear
Their praises when sung dead heroes do not hear

The battle long over the fighting is done
and the aging mother grieves for her dead son
But he is happy and living the man who feared death
And it will not be of a bullet wound he will draw his last breath.

When J J Callanan Penned Gougane Barra

When J J Callanan penned Gougane Barra he achieved perfection in rhyme
A poem that may live on forever through the ages and ages of time
It even seems better than his The Recluse Of Inchydoney, The Outlaw Of Lough Lene, or The Convict Of Clonmel
He was such an outstanding wordsmith his great poems of him so much does tell

He migrated to sunny Portugal the weather in Ireland for him too wet and cold
But sadly his health it was not good and he did not live to grow old
His legacy beautiful poetry that brings joy to so many today
One of the greatest poets of rural Ireland of him this would be true to say

The music, the rhyme and the rhythm in everything that he did write
A poet of remarkable talent his verse a joy for to read and recite
He lived in a different Ireland from the Ireland we know of today
And far from his beloved Country his last remains at rest does lay

When Callanan wrote Gougane Barra perfection in rhyme he achieved
Yet for his beautiful poetry little in the way of financial reward he received
He was such a wonderful poet his verses to many are a source of joy
Today i enjoy reading his poems as much as i did when a boy.

We Are As Much A Part Of Nature

We are as much a part of Nature as much so as the birds and the bees
As much as the flora around us the grass, flowers and the bushes and trees
As much as all species of fish and animals the domesticated and the wild and free
We are of and belong to Nature this is how it does seem to me
When i say we are a part of Nature there are many to say i am wrong
But each to their own as they do say and i know to whom i belong
She is one of so many colors her beauty for all to be seen
She is known as Mother Nature and she is my Goddess and Queen
Many people believe in a Kingdom of an unseen God in the sky
Where post death good souls will go to for they do have wings for to fly
But i will return to Nature like the rabbit, the hare and the mouse
I was born as much of a mortal as the insect, earthworm and woodlouse
We are as much a part of Nature as the leaves that do grow on a tree
At least this is what i believe in though many with me may not agree.

I Want To Be A Better Person

I want to be a better person and live as compassionate and kind
For when i look for the flaws in others to my own flaws i do become blind
And help anyone of help in needing this is if of course that i can
It is now my only ambition for to become a better man
I used to aspire to being materially wealthy a person of influence and fame
But that was only a temporary ambition that faded to a flickering flame
But i can live to be a better person by helping anyone of my helping in need
You cannot expect future good Karma if for it you do not plant the seed
I want to live as a good person a better and a kinder me
This is all that i now do aspire to and this is all that i now wish to be
In many ways i have been lucky i sleep in a warm bed at night
There are so many poor people out there sleeping rough under the starlight
I want to live as a good person a better and a kinder me
In me there is room for improvement since i seem to lack in empathy.

Forgiveness

There is an old saying called live and let live
And though it may be hard to forget one should try to forgive
Since the gift of forgiveness is a great gift indeed
For the antidote to the healing of the mind it does plant the seed

Those who cannot forgive cannot know of happiness
They live till they die with anger and bitterness
It is when you forgive that in life you can move on
For bitterness can lead to serious crime and what has been has gone

Some people will take their anger and bitterness with them to the grave
The gift of forgiveness only does belong to the brave
Some who cannot forgive do turn to payback crime
And spend most of the best years of their lives serving prison time

Forgiveness of anger and bitterness will set you free
This does apply to everyone as well as to you and me
The person who harbors a grudge is his or her own greatest foe
And that the act of forgiveness removes anger and bitterness from the mind happens to be so.

A Wonder Of Nature

A wonder of Nature it does seem to me
The swallows in full flight quite amazing to see
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunny sky
They turn and twist at will as they do fly
The sun on their dark wings as they turn and glide
Like aerial dancers and ballerinas above the brown countryside
They fly above the paddocks for hours every day
In a beautiful effortless aerial display
Their glossy dark wings gleaming in the sunlight
A marvel of Nature the swallows in flight
A wonder of Nature for one to admire
For hours they do fly without seeming to tire
At the swallows in flight in amazement i stare
With us Nature has so much beautiful sights for to share.

Why Tell Me About It

Why tell me about it i know all too well
That the ego it is not a hard thing to swell
Since i too have an ego that is not hard to inflate
Of the humble i have not met that many of late
The ego in everyone it is alive
And it is true that we need it just for to survive
And the wealthy celebrities who have the adulation of fame
For their swollen egos them one hardly can blame
Since praise as we know it can go to one's head
A quote from a wise person and a truer word never said
It is a tough World the big World out there
And in the twenty first century humility never gets one anywhere
And why tell me about it since i know all to well
That the ego is not a hard thing for to swell.

To Be Poor In The Mind

For many life is just a deep worry pit
For success in life or for the lack of it
They worry about money though not poor in a financial way
Though not short of money if you think you are poor you are poor does seem true to say
Not poor but unhappy their kind are not rare
Money cannot buy happiness for the unhappy billionaire
Some people find reason to worry though their worries are small
They worry with nothing to worry about at all
They feel that life on them it is rather tough
When in truth they are people with more than enough
Of money and material things they are not in need
To be poor in the mind is to be poor indeed
Though financially well off that they are poor they do believe
It is true that some people their own selves do deceive.

Wonthaggi

A Town with a coal mining history though the mines there for decades closed down
Wonthaggi in coastal South Gippsland it is a historical Town
The descendants of migrants most of them Italian in Wonthaggi known to reside
Eight kilometers by car to the ocean a place that is known far and wide

The first people to live in South Gippsland were a tribe known as the Bunurong
They were the children of the Dreamtime remembered in story and song
Long before there was a Wonthaggi they lived and hunted and had their corroborees
On warm evenings in Summer in the cool shade of the tall trees

The most of the Wonthaggi miners in the Cemetery by Cameron Street lay
Honorable and honest and hard working people they labored hard for every pay
Yet no memorial in their honor and for them never a parade
It is never out of the lives of hard working people that heroes are known to be made

Wonthaggi in Southern Gippsland it is a historical Town
The mining strikes of the twentieth century is one of it's claims to renown
Once home to South Gippsland's first people the tribe known as the Bunurong
To an oral and ancient history of the Dreaming Time they did belong.

Can Anyone Tell Me

Can anyone tell me what are they on about
Those people who on the minds of those of the age to vote sow the seeds of doubt
Of their political opponents of whom they do not have a good word to say
For them power is all important it does seem this way
They seem to think that every voter is gullible which does seem a bit sad
And in their words they try to have us believe that their political opponents are all bad
But if in your mind the worthlessness of their political opponents they have planted the seed
Then sad to say you are very gullible indeed
The majority of politicians are far from honest and lacking in ruth
And when by a journalist or reporter are asked an honest question they seldom answer with truth
Referred to by some as the honorable though many of them of honor seem broke
These people who do treat the truth as a joke
The honorable and truthful politicians to say the least few
On saying this i am not telling you anything that is new.

On An Email From Denis Murphy

I recently received an Email from Denis Murphy a friend from many years ago
Before we went on different life journeys and time became our foe
We were in school together and were friends into our lives prime
But i have not seen Denis for quite a long time

Time ticking on all of us and it does not tick slow
On his email he wrote of the young friends that he used to know
The Donovans, The Hickeys, The Taylors and the Rathduane Murphys John and Tim
To Denis the great gift of memory has been good to him

The late Anthony Price and Michael Kelleher Living in Australia he mentioned from his youthful past
Old memories do linger and until death seem to last
And Denis in his memories can go way back in time
To when he was a young boy long before his life's prime

He mentioned our deceased school teacher Bill O Keeffe and the late Humphrey Kelleher a great of Gaelic Football
Of the past only memories we are left with to recall
Of the Mahonys and the Carrolls of Inchaleigh good memories remain
When we think of our young years the past does live again

Time does tick along as young we do not stay
Some of Denis Murphy's grandchildren are young adults today
And time does not wait for anyone it ticks on and on
And only memories do live of the Seasons long gone

In view of old Clara today Denis is enjoying life
In his beloved Town of Millstreet where beauty is rife
And perhaps to his grandchildren stories of his younger years he does tell
Since the great gift of memory does serve him well.

Stephen Collins Foster

Stephen Collins Foster of Lawrence Pennsylvania died in a New York hospital when thirty seven years old
He was a very famous song writer whose story is often told
As a poverty stricken alcoholic but many of his songs do live today
Many claim him to be the greatest writer of songs of the U S of A

One hundred and fifty years after his death his legacy lives on
Through his songs he is remembered though the breath of life from him has gone
Camptown Races, Oh Susanna, My Old Kentucky Home and Old Black Joe
From the pen of the great song writer some fifteen decades ago

His great songs such as Hard Times, Old Folks At Home and Jeanie With The Light Brown Hair in pubs and clubs are sung Worldwide
That Stephen Collins Foster was a genius of him cannot be denied
That he was America's greatest song writer many would surely agree
But alcohol became his downfall for some how sad life can be

But his life it was not wasted since he left a legacy of joy
I heard the songs of Stephen Collins Foster sung by old men as a boy
To the future generations memorable songs he did give
As long as there is song and music his is a name that will live.

That Nature Can Be Changeable

The sun behind gray clouds is hidden away
On what is a drizzly and blustery day
The wind soughing in the gum and wattle trees
On a temperature high for the day of a cool eighteen degrees
Birds familiar to many and familiar to me
The magpie larks in the paddocks are calling pee wee
And the magpies are warbling in the wind and the rain
Why birds sing in changeable weather as a mystery remain
The weather does change quite quickly at this time of year
Yesterday it was warm and sunny and the sky of rain clouds was clear
But all day it has been drizzling and a strong wind blowing from the south
This is not good weather for to be out and about
That Nature can be changeable it does seem fair to say
She does not seem to be in a good mood today.

Though Only

Though only the biographies of celebrities millions of copies do sell
It is true everyone has a life story to tell
But sadly the life stories of many with them do die
A mere fact of life and fact never lie
Though wealth and fame is of no use to the dead
No pockets in the burial shroud as has often been said
But since the praises of life's battlers few bother to sing
To be poor whilst living is such a sad thing
And though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
For one for to win many have to lose
Life in many ways not unlike a game of football
For the loser disappointment since the winner takes all
Of the prestige that goes with it as well as the fame
And the loser's does become a forgotten name.

A Fellow From Kanturk

Far south of Kanturk by the babbling Allow
That flows to the Blackwater in fields of Duhallow
The years telling on him he used to be fitter
In time even marble loses some of it's glitter

Without children or a wife for to worry over
For years he has enjoyed the life of a rover
Quite contented in his life he never seeks pity
He says he will die in old Warrnambool City

In his younger years a hard worker and a risk taker
In the Australian outback a shearer as well as a horse breaker
He tamed the wild brumbies and he mustered cattle
One need not go to war for to fight the life's battle

His hair was brown but time has left him looking older and gray
And one can say of him he has known a better day
He worked on city building sites and on pipeline crews as a pipe layer
His sort of person nowadays becoming rare

Of women in his life he is one who had many
But as far as he knows of children he has never had any
He often drank lots of beer and remained mellow
And he is as he always was a likeable fellow

A well traveled man he has been to many places
And he has mixed and worked with men of many races
A fellow in his early seventies from Kanturk kindhearted and witty
Enjoying his twilight years in Warrnambool City.

Life Can Be A Battle

It is a tough World the World out there
And for many life's journey does lead to nowhere
And for everyone life is not always fair
And so many are battling their black moods of despair

So many in life seem to have lost their way
And the social gap keeps on widening by the day
And you will only find equality where dead people lay
But then such is life as some do like to say

Though dreams for the majority do not come true
Most people do have their own desires to pursue
In a World where many do fail for one to succeed
Something to aspire to in life we do need

A tough enough World to live in for many it does seem
Where billions are in need of a boost to their self esteem
And a challenge of some sort to face every day
Life can be a battle it does seem this way.

In Life

In life there is many an up and a down
And too hard a climb for most to wealth and renown
And since we are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
Our journey in life has to come to an end
Is there life for the soul when the body does die?
If i told you i knew i would be telling you a lie
Many claim that good souls post bodily death do have wings to fly
To a Paradise known as Heaven somewhere beyond the sky
And though to their theological opinions respect one has to pay
Of a life for the soul post bodily death is not for me to say
Yet Nature is the only immortal of which i do know
In Spring after the chill of Winter the grass again does grow
She will be living when the breath of life from me has long gone
For she has been forever and forever will live on.

The Pioneers Of Change

Though many do look upon them as quite strange
The tribe-less individuals are the pioneers of change
For to follow leaders their kind never known
One can say of them they have minds of their own

The famous inventors, physicians, mathematicians and scientists of human history
Were never leaders in their local community
And they never did seek a high public esteem
Though they brought about change for the better it does seem

The famous composers, artists, writers and surgeons and technicians serve humanity well
Though their stories in book form never readily sell
Politicians and elite sports people and celebrities we so often hear of and read about
Though them humanity would not be that much worse off without

The doctors and teachers and nurses and social workers who give of their time free
For those who do live in extreme poverty
That to people's lives bring change for the better happens to be true
So let us give credit to where it is due.

On Australian Magpies

The beautiful warbling songs i so often does hear
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
That they are amongst Australia's finest songsters of them cannot be denied
They live in town parks and in gardens and in the countryside
Though not corvids Australia's black and white songsters as magpies are known
And one can say of them they have ways of their own
I see them and hear their warbling notes every day
They are unmistakeable of them one can say
Earth worms and insects and mice they do eat
And small birds to them always a tasty treat
In their breeding Season they treat none as a friend
And even humans will attack their territories for to defend
At their nesting time they do often sing at night
And how pleasant to hear them warbling in the moonlight.

Such Sad News

Such sad news from war zones from here far away
Of the murders and maiming of innocent people in bombings and shootings every day
By people who have lost their humanity
Completely bereft of any bit of compassion or empathy
Their lives taken from them in the foulest way
For being in the wrong place and there at the wrong time such a price for to pay
Some even take their own lives for others to kill
To commit such awful crimes they would have to be mentally ill
Many their most important human right their right to life of them denied
In wars about religion and land and the cultural divide
From war zones most of the stories born of sorrow and tears
And in some Countries the flower of peace it has not bloomed for years
Such sad news from war zones from here far away
Of the murders and maiming of innocent people in bombings and shootings every day.

Self Love

Advice from the wise woman to her grandson
If you cannot love yourself you cannot love anyone
With such an insight how can one disagree
That love has it's source in the mind is how it seems to be
The praises of self some all too willing to sing
But self praise to self love is a different thing
In the mind of self love narcissism does not reside
The gulf between them one can say is quite wide
Without self love you cannot feel for others any sympathy
Since without it you cannot have compassion and empathy
The gift of self love is a great gift indeed
And those who have it are always willing for to help one of helping in need
If you cannot love yourself you cannot love anyone
Good advice from the wise woman to her grandson.

John Joe Tangney

John Joe Tangney as a young man was quick on his feet
And a star Gaelic Footballer for his Club of Millstreet
A hero of Millstreet's 1948 Cork County Senior Championship win for the famed green and gold
But time does tick on and great players grow old

Predeceased by the mother of his children Teresa his beautiful wife
He was one who did live a very long life
Of years he must have had lived a decade with four score
And for decades on Main Street Millstreet Town he owned a draper store

One who forged many friendships in his long life span
It can be said of John Joe that he was a nice man
One who never craved the social limelight though in Duhallow he was quite well known
He did have a quiet sort of charm of his own

In his words John Joe never put anyone down
A role model for many in Millstreet Town
The sad news of his passing has traveled far and wide
Beyond the borders of Duhallow's green countryside

In the old cemetery at Drishane his last remains lay
And for his passing Millstreet is the poorer today
But eventually time becomes everyone's foe
And may he rest in peace now the genial John Joe.

The Rose Of Cobden

In her prime years her hair was chestnut brown
The beautiful lady of old Cobden Town
But she is aging in quite a graceful way
Her shoulder length hair it is wavy and gray

Five times a grandmother showing the years of time
Three years ago her husband of forty years left her for one in her physical prime
But she does not feel bitter towards him in any way
I do wish him happiness is all of him she does say

That time ages everyone happens to be so
The Rose of Cobden some four decades ago
Without hair dyes or makeup she has aged rather well
That in her prime she was a rare beauty is not hard to tell

A milestone in her life on the fourth day of May
She will be celebrating her seventieth birthday
Her ex husband who is not the most faithful of men
Married her when she was the Rose of Cobden.

Your Friends Are Few

Worldwide for this thing known as success people do compete
And everyday for many a new challenge to meet
The praises of the wealthy and famous the masses may sing
But success as is said can be a relative thing
In a World of billions of people the poor are not rare
And many grow poorer for every new millionaire
And few wish to know of the financially down
A sad one indeed is the sad sack of the town
It is true what is said when you befriend one of helping in need
That to this person you are a true friend indeed
When you are down and all others have forsaken you
Your true friend to you does remain ever true
You may have many acquaintances but your friends are few
And on saying this i am not saying anything that is new.

It Could Not Be For Freedom

I cannot weep for the martyrs of nineteen sixteen
Or the heroes who died for wearing of the green
The enemy of the past is no longer the foe
And all of this happened a long time ago

For the fallen of past wars i do not have tears
For they have been dead for many decades of years
If you have tears to weep why waste them on the dead
Save them for the poor and the homeless and the stateless instead

Of men who died fighting when they were young
Of them stories written and songs have been sung
And for them there has been many a street parade
And so often for them the last post is played

And what did they die for can you tell me
If not for the frightened and stateless refugee
Who from war and famine for refuge does flee
To be made feel unwelcome in their destiny

Or the homeless and hungry of Poverty Street
From ill fitting shoes walking on blistered feet
So many who live in extreme poverty
Just one of the many forms of not being free

That they thought they were fighting for freedom this well may be so
But the enemy then is no longer the foe
It could not have been for freedom that many of them fought and died
Since so many good people are not free Worldwide.

Of The Hard Ways Of Life

Of the hard ways of life of i have come to know
Far south of where old River Finnow does flow
In the old rushy fields by the Town of Millstreet
The scenic countryside where the waterways meet

That time is our master none ought to deny
On looking back the years the Seasons do fly
In ten years from now if living i will be an old man
And close to the end of my given time span

In the quiet of a Summer twilight in a field by the River Finnow
In fancy i can hear the soft lowing of a cow
Under a darkening sky just after sundown
In the beautiful countryside near Millstreet Town

The past may be gone but the memories remain
Of a mottled brown lark singing in the gray clouds of rain
Above Matty Owens bog in the gloam of the day
In the cool of the evening in the prime of the May

My journey in life it has brought me far south
Of the home of the badger and the brown river trout
But good memories of what was today i retain
When in fancy i walk in the old fields again.

Bernard O Donoghue

Bernard O Donoghue the County Cork born poet
He is a person of literary note
From Cullen in Duhallow he is famed Worldwide
Far beyond the borders of his home countryside

An Oxford Professor of Medieval English to poetic renown he did rise
On his winning of the prestigious Whitbread Poetry Prize
Amongst the great poets of the World he takes his place
As the pride of his clan and a credit to his race

One of the major poets of the literary World of today
With words Bernard O Donoghue does have a way
In poetic circles his is an acclaimed name
He stands with poetry's best on the summit of fame

He has earned the title of a poetic great
Such beauty in his words Bernard does create
In Worldwide literary circles one held in high esteem
But humble in his ways is how he does seem

From the home-place of the late Edward Walsh another literary man to celebrate
With the best poets of the World Bernard O Donoghue does rate
Though at least four decades beyond his physical prime
His poetic legend has grown through the Seasons of time.

Till The Day I Do Die

In Claraghatlea i was born and raised and spent my physical prime
Though i have not been back there for quite a long time
To say that i do not miss it would be telling a lie
I will be a Claraghatlea fellow till the day i do die

Near where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
Today i would be a stranger to many in old Millstreet Town
The babes when i left there the mums and dads of today
And my biological clock keeps on ticking away

In Claraghatlea i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning about her today i enjoy
The years may leave one looking weary and gray
But we learn as we live as the wise one does say

But the old fields i loved to me would look the same
I knew many of them by their given name
Fond memories of them in me does remain
And often in my flights of fancy i walk on them again

Though few now around Millstreet by sight would recognize me
A Claraghatlea fellow is all i can be
If i said i do not miss it this would be a lie
A Claraghatlea fellow i will be till the day i do die.

Some People One Can Say

Some people one can say can be full of guile
She served me with what is known as a forced smile
She thanked me saying sir you do have a nice day
Without seeming genuine in any way
In her early twenties attractive and seemingly sweet
But her body language told of one not free of conceit
Though working for a living it does seem to me
That she is one who aspires to much better in a uni degree
She did seem quite snobbish in her tone of voice
Her present occupation perhaps not her long term choice
Her courteous manner to the customers comes from managerial advice
And staff to the customer told to be nice
For anytime i do meet her on the street
She behaves as if me she does not wish to meet
To her a few times i did wish a good day
But in silence she passed without once looking my way.

What I Enjoy Doing

Perhaps of rhyme i have written more than enough
And my rhymes at the best of times a little bit rough
And though this for me has been a poor rhyming day
Addicted to rhyming as a rhymer i will stay
For as long as the breath of life it is in me
Till my last living day whenever that will be
Without financial reward and a skerrick of fame
This penning of rhyme for me a hungry belly game
I have been penning rhyme since my physical prime
And this is going back some four decades in time
Though a rhyming addiction i cannot disown
From penning of rhyme such pleasure i have known
And though for it i never receive any pay
What i enjoy doing why should i give away.

For Me Like All Others

For me like all others there will be a last night and day
And where my last resting spot is why should i care anyway
And of a heaven or a hell ask one other than me
Since i only believe in what my eyes do see
For every up in life there is always a down
And my travels have taken me to many a town
Yet i cannot say that i am a well traveled man
Though of years i am one who has lived quite a span
Far south of the place where i first saw light of day
The years have left me feeling weary and looking gray
Four decades of years past my physical prime
Eventually we all become victims of time
Only Nature is immortal why otherwise pretend
And for me life's journey will come to an end.

The Past Follows Us Everywhere

Whenever you think of your first home-place are nostalgic tears near to your eyes
And of your friends of the past do you retain the mental images and remember them when you visualize
And do you remember your first hometown and the people that you knew there?
If so you are not unusual the past follows us everywhere

Do you visualize the high country half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And do you hear the rainwater gurgling in the fast flowing river bound drain?
It takes us to far away places this great gift known as memory
In truth it does seem very natural to remember the what used to be

You may have left your first home-place out of a sense of adventure or maybe for material or financial gain
And the reason you do not return to there is only for you to explain
You may have been a misplaced person a famine or a war refugee
One reason that people do migrate is out of extreme poverty

In fancy do you hear the people singing in your far away village at night
And hear the loud cries of wild creatures under a starry sky in the moonlight
Old memories not known to die easily in most people until death they do last
The one who does not have a future is the one who does not have a past

Whenever you think of your first home-place do your eyes mist over in tears
The past is something that is with you though you are well advanced in years
For as long as the gift of memory is with you the good or not so good memories with you do remain
And in your moments of reflection the past you do visit again.

Liking Does Have To Go Both Ways

How can you be nice to the people who in their words heap scorn on you
Since liking does have to go both ways i only do say what is true
But do never give way to hating since hatred does poison the mind
Never wish upon others bad things even though to you they have been unkind
They do get their comeuppance bullies what goes around comes around as they say
When you sow the seeds of bad Karma you must reap what you have sown one day
Just leave those who are mean to you to Karma and they will reap what they have sown
But Karma rewards in a good way those who to others kindness has shown
How can you like one who disrespects you who verbally keeps putting you down
Such a person only knows how to lose friends and never becomes the most popular one in the town
But never do give way to hating for hating can lead you to serious crime
And this could have you sent to prison for quite a considerable length of time
Just leave that person to Karma what goes around comes around remains ever true
We do reap what we sow in Karma and what we do reap is our due.

The New Poetasters

That they win the big poetry prizes of them cannot be denied
The modern poets of the twenty first century amongst highbrows are famed far and wide
But bush poets and rhymers on the outer since the literary critics them do ignore
And in literature what used to be popular is not popular anymore
In literature as in most things the changes keep happening and what used to be no longer so
Bush poets and rhymers out of fashion they were popular a long time ago
The great women and men poets of the early twentieth century the most of them wordsmiths of rhyme
Nowadays seem to be out of fashion suppose everything has it's time
The literary professors of universities tell us who is or is not a poet
They tell us who ought to be ignored and those worthy of literary note
Of writers they think unworthy of criticism they never do leave us in doubt
And to them those who like bush poets and rhymers of poetry know nothing about
They win the big poetry prizes of the twenty first century the non rhyming poets of today
And rhymers now the new poetasters this is how it does seem anyway.

Sheila Becker

Sheila Becker was born and raised an O Sullivan in Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town
In her prime years she was quite attractive with wavy hair of dark brown
And though she is now in her eighties her beauty she seems to retain
It can be truly said of Dr Becker that Ireland's loss is America's gain

A nurse and a doctor and author in life Sheila Becker has done well
She is quite an amazing woman with many great stories to tell
Of her life with her late husband Jay Becker he was quite a successful man
In Jay she did find her true soul-mate their union the decades did span

Sheila and Jay to each other devoted in her he did have a great wife
To two very beautiful daughters they helped to give the gift of life
She is blessed with lovely grand-daughters in them she feels a certain pride
The woman whose life's journey began in Claraghatlea's green countryside

In Claraghatlea in view of Clara mountain she first looked on the bright lamp of day
Her life journey took her to England and from there to the U S of A
A legendary migrant of Millstreet one who has scaled the heights of fame
The amazing Doctor Sheila Becker Julia O Sullivan was her birth name.

One More Wealthy Unhappy Old Fellow

He spends too much time worrying about and making money and too much time arguing with his aging cranky wife
And each dawn has him one day older and one day nearer to the end of his life
A wealthy man in assets and money but a rather poor man in his mind
One more wealthy unhappy old fellow and the World is not short of his kind

His daughter and son and their children thanks to him will never know of a poor day
They will enjoy spending his fortune when from life he has passed away
They might sob a bit at his funeral and by his grave shed a few tears
But they will have a good time spending the vast amounts of money he has amassed over the years

He could be enjoying life with his money instead of being burdened by care
The Reaper of Lives treats as equal the pauper and the billionaire
His wife of forty years in many ways not unlike him and many things in common they do share
But the love has gone out of their marriage and at each other they often do swear

He worries about the money markets and he worries that the economy is slowing
And he never seems to be happy his worries keep on growing and growing
A billionaire in his late sixties four decades past his physical prime
A bit sad to see him unhappy when he could be enjoying a good time

He never smiles or is heard laughing and for years he has lived this way
His money to him a huge worry and he will die of worry one day
He could be enjoying his vast fortune till the Reaper on his life has the say
But he never does seem for to realize that money is of no use to the dead where they lay.

The Allansford Rose

She takes pride of place where the dark Hopkins flow
Towards the Blue Hole at the Pacific dark deep and slow
With eyes blue as sloes and shoulder length hair of wavy dark brown
The beautiful young woman of Allansford Town
A down to earth person free of any guile
Friendly in her ways with a beautiful smile
When she is at a party dressed in her best clothes
She looks so attractive the Allansford Rose
A beautiful person quite free of conceit
Her type every day one does not meet on every street
In her early twenties and in her life's prime
One can say of her on the right side of time
In Allansford Town she does take pride of place
A beautiful person with a beautiful face.

A Nice Evening In March

Though with each passing day Winter is drawing near
Sunny March in the southern Fall a pleasant time of year
Some of the leaves on the deciduous trees are beginning to brown
In the early Autumn in the southern town

The parks and the paddocks could do with some rain
And not one drop of water in the roadside drain
In the bare and dry paddocks the farmers feeding their cattle hay
They are hoping for rain though rain seems far away

The signs of Climate Change are everywhere around
Last night's rain by sun and wind already sucked out of the ground
Yet it is nice to be out walking in the sunlight
On a day that is warm and breezy and bright

The dark welcome swallows do chirp as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunny sky
On a nice evening in March for to be out and about
In the early Fall in the coastal south.

Though Most People

Though most people do have their dreams to pursue
That life can have it's disappointments happens to be true
And though losing is something anyone does not choose
For you for to win someone else has to lose
So many sad faces i see on the street
A truly happy person i do not often meet
And few wish to know of the one feeling down
A friendless one is the sad sack of the town
The fact is we are only mortals and fact does not lie
And helpless we are born and helpless we will die
In this respect the cow or the dog is no different to me
Though many with such thinking would disagree
And new challenges in life we do meet every day
But each to their own as the wise one does say.

Australian Little Ravens

Medium sized birds i do see and do hear every day
They are quite intelligent of them one can say
Australian little ravens a pale eyed species of crow
My wonder of them only does seem to grow

In thinking of most other species of birds they do seem far ahead
On the verge of the lake in Warrnambool Botanical Gardens i see them dipping hard bread
They have discovered stale bread dipped in water makes it easier to eat
I see with my own eyes this remarkable feat

The saying of birdbrained to them does not apply
By their long drawn out caws they can be recognized by
Of glossy black feathers and pale mischievous eyes
They are rather intelligent i have come to realize

The birds known to many as the pale eyed crow
Though little of their ways i can claim to know
But them i do see every day of the year
And their long drawn out cawing i often do hear.

Alcohol Is Amazing

Whenever i do visit the local bar
A few there always willing to tell me of how great they are
Alcohol is amazing it makes the ordinary great
So many false legends it does create
So many with a few beers in their own praises do sing
And self promotion at the local bar does seem the in thing
The pub is where many of their greatness become aware
The humble with a few beers in are becoming rare
In the local pub self proclaimed heroes not few
To this you may say do tell us what is new
In the local pub at the top of the street
Some champions in their own minds you are bound to meet
In the local pub alcohol heroes create
The liquor that does make the ordinary great.

The Butter Road

The Butter Road from Cork that ends in Millstreet Town
From Rylane up by Mushera and to Aubane does wind up and down
It used to be the road from Kerry to Cork many decades ago
But now beyond Millstreet on the old Butter Road only grass and briars grow

The old story tellers had many stories to tell
Of the horse and cart days when people traveled to Cork City their butter to sell
Their carts full of butter quite a heavy load
Which does explain for the name of the Butter Road

The narrow mountain road from Millstreet to Cork that winds it's way by Mushera and Togher bog
In late Fall and Winter often obscured by fog
A road quite dangerous to drive on in times of frost and snow
As motorists who drive on it of all too well do know

The steep in places Butter Road from Millstreet to Cork is quite a narrow roadway
But it does have an old history of it one can say
I have driven on it going back years in time
When i was a younger man in my life's prime.

What We Dislike In Ourselves

What we dislike in ourselves we dislike in others in some cases apply
Though this is something many may well deny
Those we dislike are our reflective mirrors is how it seems to be
Though many with this would surely disagree
The experts on body language people quite knowledgeable and wise
From years of studying human behavior have come to realize
That people we dislike for no apparent reason to us carry a similar flaw
Our non oral body language is of natural law
Though human body language i cannot claim to know much about
The words on the experts on it i never do doubt
You may dislike a person for not any particular reason and for this ask yourself why
But what you dislike in her or in him to yourself may also apply
Some we dislike are our reflective mirrors would you not agree?
At least anyway this is how it seems to be.

Leaders

Of good and great leaders we so often hear of and read
But not every person is born to lead
Without followers there would not be leaders and followers are not few
One can say in truth that this is nothing new
It is said about leaders they are born to be this way
But a lot of bad leaders in the Human World of today
It is said of good leaders that they lead from behind
And any good leader should be honorable and kind
Good leaders should be honest in their dealings with others and loyal to the truth
Though far too many so called leaders corruptible and lacking in ruth
So many bad leaders in the Human World of today
Due to self love gone wrong they have lost their way
Many people every year in war zones do die
Due to bad government leaders and this not a lie.

Poor In His Mind

Though he is known to be many times a money millionaire
He is one who is burdened by worry and care
Wealthy in material ways but poor in his mind
One has to feel some sympathy for him and his kind

He may be one of the wealthiest people in the town
But in his mind he is financially down
Wealthy in the bank but quite poor otherwise
That poverty has many faces should not be a surprise

It is a fact that there are many forms of poverty
You can be poor in your mind and wealthy financially
You can be one of the materially wealthy on your side of the town
And yet in your mind feel financially down

He owns a factory, seven houses and a public bar
Yet he drives around in a shabby old car
Many may look on him as a miserly old bloke
But in his mind he is financially broke.

Quite A Great Person Indeed

The World was better for him living in it though few knew of his existence at all
In life he did help many people yet his public profile was small
He did not have children for to mourn him and he never did have a wife
He died when in his early thirties and he lived an honorable life
His aged neighbor widowed grandmother Miranda says he was a wonderful man
He helped me out of kindness not for money death claimed him in his life's physical elan
On his work free time helping poor people his kind acts in life quite a few
Though his kind never lauded as heroes and this not saying anything that is new
One always willing for to help out others and who worked hard for his living pay
A victim of a workplace accident he did not live for to grow old and gray
A man who was full of compassion and quite a great person indeed
And one who was only too willing to help one of helping in need
He died at a relatively young age did not live to grow old and gray
That the World was better for him living in it only seems a fair thing for to say.

I Will Go Home To Millstreet

Since i left the green countryside by Millstreet Town
The roadways of life i have been up and down
And like many of my travels i have stories to tell
I feel lucky in ways memory serves me well

In fancy in Spring i hear the mottled brown lark over Clara again
Though lost to my view in the gray clouds of rain
Old memories live on they do not fade away
My past it is with me and living today

On a rock around where babbling waters do flow
The dark brown water bird dipper of breast white as snow
Is singing i do know him by his shrill song
Once seen and once heard a bird one never again does get wrong

The kronk of the raven, the chatter of the magpie and call of the jackdaw
The creatures of Nature live by their own law
The distinctive cawing of the rook and the silver back crow
The birds of the fields where to manhood i did grow

When the cattle chewing their cuds on lush grass do lay
And the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And every songbird does have a song to sing
I will go home to Millstreet in the greenness of Spring

Where to many i might be a stranger today
Time brings about changes life it is this way
But the old fields i loved i know would look the same
Some of them i recall by their given name.

Cafe Paradiso Gallery

Cafe Paradiso Gallery on the street to the lake
Where the town's aspirational meet for coffee and cake
An upmarket cafe and gallery where the poor never go to for to socialize
It is each to their own as we have come to realize

Not a meeting place for the poor of the town
For those in their luck who are financially down
Anyone on social welfare or on a low income you will not find there
For their socializing they must meet elsewhere

Cafe Paradiso Gallery the name says it all
With expensive works of art hanging on every wall
Where an entrance fee to view the paintings or to dine you must pay
It is each to their own as some do like to say

In Cafe Paradiso Gallery at the top of Lake Street
A poor person is one that you will not meet
Where the wealthy and aspirational view the paintings and enjoy cake and coffee
Money speaks every language is how it seems to be.

Not Everyone's Thing

The praises of community social groups many may sing
But being part of a group is not everyone's thing
We all are quite different would you not agree
Suppose this is how we are and always will be
There are leaders and followers in every town
And the leader is one some do wish to drag down
Many social groupings to cliques do give rise
And that cliques become exclusive is not a surprise
Many join social groups to enhance their public esteem
But not everyone does have such needs it does seem
Those not in any group to others different indeed
They are true individuals and of groups not in need
And though the praises of community social groups many may sing
What is enjoyed by many is not everyone's thing.

The Unhappy One

He lives in a home in dollars worth more than five million the trappings of wealth he does like to show
And of his many material successes he wishes everyone for to know
Of since he has a very big ego far too big for his head one might say
But all of his employees will tell you that their work effort for him not matched by pay
With three primary school going children two sons and a daughter and a very attractive looking young wife
One can say of him he is quite lucky to have all of the good things in life
But in his mind he is not very happy though in assets he is worth a billion or more
He yearns to be materially the World's wealthiest person from the north to the southern shore
Money can buy you most things but cannot buy you happiness a saying that happens to be true
And that he is an unhappy person is only to give him his due
He is not kind and generous to his employees and in return none of them of him have nice things to say
Without them he would not have a five million dollar home to live in and be wealthy as he is today
Yet he is one who is not satisfied to be the wealthiest person in the country town
He yearns to be the World's wealthiest person and one of Worldwide renown.

I Only Pen Rhymes As A Hobby

I only pen rhymes as a hobby since i am a stranger to fame
And in death to me it will not matter if mine is a forgotten name
Wealth and fame is only of benefit to the living since the dead to all feelings are dead
It cannot be said of a dead person that success has gone to her or his head

I have been penning rhymes for a long time since the Fall of nineteen seventy three
What i write below criticism though this matters little to me
I will not be the first or the last one for to die without penning a memorable line
And what others think of me is their own business and their business cannot be mine

I only want to live for to be a better person since in me room for improvement indeed
To think less of me and more of others and help anyone of my helping in need
Any improvement in anyone as a person though it may seem to be quite small
Must surely be looked on as better than not any improvement at all

I used to love reading rhyme poems and old stories in my pre teen years as a boy
And now penning rhymes as a hobby is something i really enjoy
And perhaps i will carry on rhyming right up till the day i do die
If i did tell you any different i would only be telling a lie.

The Tarwin Lower Shearer

He is from the home of the black pale eyed crow
Of Tarwin Lower where the dark Tarwin waters to the Pacific flow
Coastal lands that were even very old in the Dreamtime
That have inspired the artists and the writers of story and rhyme
For to sketch and draw and write rhymes and stories about
That beautiful flat countryside in coastal Gippsland South
In a shearing shed of South Queensland today
The Tarwin Lower shearer from home is far away
In his mid twenties and without the responsibility of children and wife
The Tarwin Lower shearer is enjoying the nomadic life
Stockily built standing around two meters a handsome bloke of curly hair of brown
He has made love to many nubile women in many a bush town
He has drunk in many a pub on his travels far and wide
Far from his home in Tarwin Lower in South Gippsland's coastal countryside.

Campbell

Not one tied to any one place the wandering way of life he enjoy
It has been a long time since Campbell was a boy
Through the big Country Australia he travels up and down
The fellow who has been in many a town

With aged brown hat covering his bushy brown greying hair
And fuzzy greying beard windblown from life in the open air
Quite a hairy fellow of him one can say
If the majority were like him of barbers and hairdressers there would not be many today

Under the open sky with darkness all around
Campbell often sleeps on his swag on the ground
He has walked many a kilometer without a partner or wife
But he seemingly enjoys the rough nomadic life

The man who could never settle anywhere
At the Port Fairy Folk Festival in early March he is always there
He sings and dances and recites poetry and enjoys drinking beer
Wherever Campbell is he does add to the cheer

In every village and town in the brown countryside
Old Campbell the swaggie is known far and wide
He will travel the highways and the byways till his life journey end
The fellow who treats everyone as a friend.

Nora Downey

Nora Sal O Sullivan as a young person left the Town of Millstreet
Beyond the borders of Duhallow there was adventure and new challenges in life for her for to meet
Far from the Town she was raised in destined for to live elsewhere
As one more to grow old in the big World out there

Born and raised in the Town near where Finnow waters flow
Her brothers Dennis and Kevin now deceased i did know
The Sal O Sullivans links to Millstreet to an old history belong
And the bond of belonging until death remains strong

In England Nora O Sullivan did have a change of surname
Through the union of marriage to her late husband Pat Nora Downey she became
As a photographer her late talented son Shaun P Downey in the W W W is deservedly widely known
One can say of him he was in a class of his own

She left Millstreet Town many decades ago
But time that rusts iron becomes everyone's foe
The Parish where her's was a known and loved face
Not destined to be for her a final resting place

A last Winter, Spring and Summer and Fall
The journey in life it does end for us all
And though the last breath of life from her may have gone
Good memories in family and friends of Nora Downey will surely live on.

Joe Garvey

Joe Garvey who died on his ninety eight year in Brosna County Kerry first saw light of day
And in Millstreet Town in Duhallow his last remains does lay
For many years he taught in the secondary schools of Millstreet Town
And to be a good family man and teacher were surely his claims to renown

In Millstreet Town Joe Garvey spent the best years of his life
Where he raised his children with Nora his devoted wife
Over the years his friends in numbers had grown
He was one who was liked by many and to many was known

Joe Garvey a quiet person not loud in any way
Quiet waters do run deep as the wise one does say
Not lacking in knowledge with lots of insight
Though he was one who never did seek the social limelight

The fact is we all run out of time and fact cannot be denied
In Kildorrery County Cork Joe Garvey died
Two years short of a century he was an aged man
Not many of time granted such a long span

In death for us all there is a lasting peace
One can only hope his parting from life was a painless release
Joe Garvey he was a good person indeed
And of more of his kind the Human World is in need.

Port Fairy

Of the first people who lived in the Port Fairy we know of today not one physical trace
Where the Moyne River flows to the ocean it is such a beautiful place
Voted the World's most livable small Town as a seaside resort widely known
A gem in the crown of the Moyne Shire it does have a charm of it's own
For a coastal Town it has a huge annual music festival reputed to be amongst Australia's top three
There is far more to the Town of Port Fairy than natural beauty for to see
Near where the Moyne flows into the sea at Griffith Island in Spring thousands of short tail Shearwaters come to breed
As great travelers of the oceans of the World they are quite amazing indeed
Just one of the many natural attractions of Port Fairy a place for it's beauty that is known Worldwide
One of the many beautiful places to visit on the coastal Moyne countryside
A Town in south western Victoria that for beauty could hold it's own with anywhere
I would be happy for to live in Port Fairy if i could afford to live there
Loved by many for it's natural beauty of it in in truth it would be true to say
That from the place known as Port Fairy Utopia is not far away.

To The Land We Do Belong

Those who claim ownership of the land that they live off of in reality have got it wrong
For we cannot own the thing that feeds us since to the land we do belong
You have a paper deed that says you are the owner but this comes from human made law
How can you own something that owns you on this your own conclusion you can draw
The land it has been here forever and the land here forever will remain
Us humans are born as mortals and in death we cannot take with us our Worldly gain
Mother Earth she does grow the food we live on from the source of a tiny dark seed
We need her for our very survival though in return from us anything she does not need
In fact she would be better off without us since we pollute her water and land
And many of us who think that we own her little of her seems to understand
Yet she is the one who supports us till death for as long as we live
We take and we keep taking from her and in return to her little give
A paper deed is proof of land ownership but human made law has got it wrong
How can we own something that owns us since to the land we do belong.

Where A Man Died For Every Sleeper

Where a man died for every sleeper on the on the railway track from here far away
On the line from Cork into Kerry no worker will die of hunger today
Sleepers first laid by workers in the Irish famine to honor them never a parade
It is only of sporting and war heroes that memorable memories are made

On the railway line from Cork into Kerry in the green and scenic countryside
In the Irish potato famine of the eighteen forties every day many poor workers died
Trying to earn a pittance to sustain the life in their starving families without hope for the Seasons ahead
In the unmarked graves of the forgotten lay the bones of Ireland's poor unremembered dead

Since then millions of people have died in famines in drought ravaged lands Worldwide
The children of very poor parents who did not have luck on their side
In unmarked graves their bones lay forever their stories never to be told
Few of the poor of poor regions do live on to grow frail and old

On the railways line from Cork into Kerry many poor workers died in Ireland's famine years
The people who should be remembered for they too are worthy of tears
In the unmarked graves of the forgotten in memory of them never a street parade
It is only of war and sporting heroes that memorable memories are made.

Barring A Miracle

For some life ends in a slow and painful way
His wife of forty years of cancer wasting away
The mother of his children and his dearest friend
Barring a miracle her life journey is near an end
So sad for him at this stage of his life
To see her suffer so his darling wife
Her chances of survival does seem rather slim
One can only feel for her as one does feel for him
Together they did have many happy years
But for one even the happiest of marriages does end in tears
Though this is going back a few decades in time
She was quite a beautiful woman in her life's prime
Sickly from chemotherapy treatment and feeling quite ill
With cancer that many of it's victims does kill.

John And Kate

To boring conservative John the non conservatives are flawed
Had he his way he would have them outlawed
He sees free thinkers as a dangerous breed
Since for change they are the sort who plant the seed
In his early eighties conservative John does lead a boring life
And equally boring is Kate his conservative wife
Their fifty fifth wedding anniversary with their children and grandchildren and friends they did celebrate
Seems like in her that he has found his true soul-mate
Birds of a feather flock together as the wise one does say
With John and Kate it surely is this way
They feel that the pioneers of change the World would be better off without
But people like them change for the better bring about
In their ways and thinking they seem out of date
Their marriage made in heaven John and Kate.

The Jealous Husband

Since she is the precious jewel of his life
The jealous husband possessive of his wife
She is thirty years and he is thirty one
With a seven year old daughter and a five year old son

Barrel chested, broad shouldered and in height rather tall
Compared to him most other males seem small
His wife with shoulder length dark hair, brown eyes, attractive and petite
One can say of her that she does look rather sweet

The jealous husband of curly brown hair and brown beard
Big possessive males like he is are people to be feared
The local young males any interest in her too fearful for to show
Since of the temper of her big jealous husband of they do know.

Even aged males not that far removed from death
By the jealous husband treated as a threat
Only female friends by him in his wife's life are allowed
By his aggressive attitude she feels intimidated and cowed

The jealous husband is one without a friend
And of his feelings he is not one to pretend
The man who would dare for to put the hard word on his wife
Would be one who does not put much value on his life.

If I Told You

If i told you i believed in a post bodily death existence this would be a lie
Perhaps an atheist i will be till the day i do die
I have not been in a church or place of worship for many a day
Just a godless person of me some might say
You do not need to believe in a god to be compassionate and kind
The seeds that grow to such beautiful things are sown in your mind
Amongst certain professions people you will find
Those who spread kindness through love in their ways inclined
What point on being religious and devoted to the god of your choice
If to xenophobia and racism you do lend your voice
There is an old saying live and let live
And this thing known as empathy the god you believe in to you cannot give
You do not need a god to be compassionate and kind
The seeds that grow to such beautiful things are sown in your mind.

By Being More Kind And Compassionate

By improving in your ways as a person you are making the World better to live in
For to be kind to others is never a sin
You will never become the most popular one in the town
By big noting yourself and verbally putting others down
There is room for improvement in most people if not in all
And any improvement towards a more compassionate you is never too small
Compassion is one of the great gifts and this not a lie
Bestowed on us mortals who are born to die
You are favorably judged if great material wealth you possess
Though money can buy you many things it cannot buy you happiness
Of your accumulated material gains do not feel too proud
Remember pockets for money will be of no use to you in your burial shroud
Though the admiration of the impressionable masses you never may win
By being more kind and compassionate you make the World better to live in.

Never A Threat To Anyone

He is not or will never be a widely known person the one who is not or will never be a threat to anyone
Of talking of self not interested or telling of the good things in life he has done
He is not a member of any club or is not interested in or plays any sport including football
So very few things in life does interest him at all
His ego well under control he never shows any sign of conceit
And always a pleasant and a very nice person to meet
One who never poses a threat to anyone in any sort of a way
One can say his kind are a rare sort today
A down to earth person who shuns the limelight
And to talk to in the ways of the World rather bright
In him nothing to dislike in any sort of a way
He is one i meet often though not every day
He never talks of his life's achievements and any prizes he has never won
The fellow who is never a threat to anyone.

There Is No Guarantee

A man in his mid twenties with plenty of time on his side
In love and about to make the woman he loved his young bride
In his physical prime and feeling fit and well
In decades from now to his grandchildren he would have good stories to tell
Of his happy young years and of his carefree life
Spent with their lovely grandmother his childhood sweetheart and wife
How great to be young and in love and carefree
And as happy and healthy as one could wish for to be
After work as he drove to his home in the twilight gray
The Reaper of Lives from him did seem decades away
But a truck overtaking a car carrying a full load
Met him at a bend on the wrong side of the road
Today he was put to ground in the town cemetery
Which goes to prove that in the length of one's life there is no guarantee.

Memory To Us

Memory to us most important in truth it can be said
Without this great gift we would be of the living dead
Without a past or a present and a blank future ahead
Even the thought of memory lost is a thought of dread
The threat of Alzheimer amongst the aging does remain
The terrible disease that destroys the memory cells of the brain
Alzheimer sufferers their own families do not even recognize
The very thought of this to sadness gives rise
He was a dear friend up to a few years ago
But now he does not even recognize me my aging neighbor Joe
He has become completely dependent on his aging wife Kate
The mother of his children and his devoted soul-mate
It can happen to you and it can happen to me
Of the threat of Alzheimer's anyone is not free.

The Praises Of A Celebrity

The praises of a celebrity the impressionable masses may sing
But too much praise for the praised one may not be a good thing
For praise as the wise one so often has said
Is something that readily can go to one's head

Some egos are not that hard to swell at all
And even without praise they are never small
People with easy to inflate egos of any praise not in need
Since their egos already do seem quite inflated indeed

The humble of mind are becoming quite rare
And of the egotistical there are quite a share
Self love in moderation it is quite okay
But in the twenty first century moderation becoming endangered which seems sad to say

Yet the one the impressionable masses never do celebrate
The Reaper of Lives all big egos deflate
For the one who claims the lives of the wealthy and the poor one day
You never hear anyone shout hip hooray.

Drought Times

For miles around bone dry every creek and bone dry every drain
And the brown and bare paddocks are thirsting for rain
It has not rained here now for many a day
And the cattle feeling the hunger are bellowing for hay
The day it is sunny and blustery around twenty degrees
And it blows with a thirst the freshening coastal breeze
And sucks any bit of moisture that is on the ground
The grass it cannot grow with el nino around
The long range weather forecast is for fine and dry
No signs of any rain clouds for days in the sky
In Summer we have had not much rain at all
And it looks like we are in for a very dry Fall
The first week of March and of Autumn and the paddocks so dry and bare
With scarce enough of grass on them for to sustain a hare.

Thanks All The Same

Since any deceased person i have known have not come back to me to tell
Of these supposed to be after life places of heaven and hell
Your ideas on this supposed after life and on how people should live
Little in food for thought to me does seem to give

For your religious beliefs i for one you do not begrudge
But have you the right to appoint yourself as my moral and religious judge?
Since i never tell anyone on what they should believe
Any advice on moral or theological issues from the dogmatic i find hard to receive

As a human being like me you are not without some flaw
But as well as observing human made you observe your god's law
But unlike you only human made laws i do try to obey
Since i do not have a god for to kneel to and pray

Of your right to what you believe in i would never deny
Which does make me wonder why you even bother to try
To convert me to your way of thinking which i do not believe in
Perhaps you should look elsewhere to your cause for new converts for to win

On what you believe in is your business and this suits me fine
Though your way of thinking will never be mine
On trying to convert me to your way of thinking you have been wasting your time
But thanks all the same for inspiring me to pen this rhyme.

For Wars Over God

For wars over god it is not god is to blame
Though many wars they have been fought in god's name
War is a human creation and humanity's shame
And any victory in war is a blood tainted fame
In wars sad to say many heroes are made
And war men celebrate war heroes in every war street parade
Often at the war memorial by an army bugler the last post is played
The memories of war by war men are not allowed to fade
There are wars over god and wars over land being waged every day
And that many civilians are dying in shootings and bombings in war zones does seem sad to say
People who talk of a just war seem hypocritical to me
In mass loss of life no moral justice would you not agree?
For wars over god it is not god is to blame
War is a human creation and humanity's shame.

The Farewell Bell

To hear it's slow tolling to it one may not be near
But the farewell bell for you is the bell you don't hear
The ears of the deceased are closed to all sound
Life's journey does end in a hole in the ground
Where dead people lay peace and silence abound
Though in the graves of the cemetery life forms crawling around
The church belfry from where i am nearly a mile away
But it is tolling a farewell to somebody today
And it's tolling reminds me of my mortality
A similar bell will one day ring for me
On a pleasant sunny morning of twenty one degrees
The sound of it's tolling carrying in the freshening breeze
In the church belfry from where i stand about a mile away
A similar bell will ring for me one day.

Tommy O Connor Did Dream

Of greatness for Millstreet Tommy O Connor did dream
That they would be the first club in Duhallow to have a senior hurling team
And against the best clubs in Cork County with success compete
And win the Senior County Championship trophy for the green and gold of Millstreet

An under age hurling tournament held yearly in Millstreet Town park in honor of the name
Of the man who was passionate about the hurling game
A love of hurling a great game played with speed and skill
In the youngsters of Millstreet he tried to instil

Of the game that he loved quite a passionate man
In a Town and Parish of many great Gaelic footballers a true hurling fan
But the biological clock eventually becomes everyone's foe
And Tommy O Connor he died many Seasons ago

He never did live to see Mark Ellis a young Millstreet club man and a great hurling player
With pride and distinction the red jersey of Cork wear
Something Tommy O Connor the Millstreet man who loved hurling did not live to see
And sadly for him this was not meant to be

For the young hurlers of Millstreet Tommy O Connor dreamed of renown
Of a Cork County Senior Hurling Championship trophy in the G A A club rooms of Millstreet Town
But his dream did not die with him it lives on today
Wherever the young hurlers of Millstreet do line out to play.

I Have Been Penning Rhyme

I have been penning rhyme since in my life's prime
And this is going back some four decades in time
And though some do advise me for to give it away
I hope to be rhyming on my last night and day
To me just a hobby and little else more
Amongst rhymers i will never be one to the fore
Yet we all have some hobby mine is penning rhyme
And this in itself by law is not a crime
To write rhyme you do not need a literary degree
Anybody can do it you can have this from me
Perhaps of my compulsion to rhyme in death i will only be free
I have been penning stuff since nineteen seventy three
And perhaps i will be rhyming till the day i do die
If i did tell you different this would be a lie.

On March The Third

Wherever i turn to look i marvel at what i do see
The beauty of Nature is all around me
The weather is pleasantly warm though not too hot at all
On the third day of March in the southern Fall
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
The warbling songs of the magpies are so pleasant to hear
The warm air full of the buzzing of flies and of bees
A weather forecast high for the day of twenty three degrees
The brown paddocks showing some green after recent thunder rain
With such pleasant weather how can one complain
The cattle in the sunshine chewing their cuds do lay
On what is indeed a beautiful Autumn day
Such beauty that artists and writers inspire
Of singing of Nature's praises could anyone tire?

The Political Blame Game Goes on

The political blame game goes on in parliament every day
Where the government party members and opposition party members of each other kind things very seldom do say
For the Country and it's people they try to give the impression they do care
But the caring politicians to say the least are very rare
Since they are lagging behind the opposition in the political opinion polls of late
The government parties have little for to celebrate
For this some members of his party on the Prime Minister put most of the blame
But to take him on in a vote for leadership thus far none to try not game
Where truthfulness and honor seems hard to be found
In politics even between members of the one party mistrust does abound
Some of his own party want to dump the Prime Minister since in the political opinion polls he is not doing well
How long more can he last in the top job only time can tell
Since many of them are untrustworthy why even pretend
Some politicians even in their own parties do not have a friend.

With The War Supposed To End All Wars

With the war supposed to end all wars all wars did not end
As this is something quite obvious why otherwise even try to pretend
Hundreds of people many of them civilians badly injured and dying in war zones every day
That nothing has been learned from wars of the past does seem such a sad thing to say
That people have not learned from lessons of past wars beyond me to understand
Everyday we read of and hear of death and destruction in conflicts for god and for land
Every day in the World in some town or city war is celebrated in a street parade
A sad reflection on humanity that in war and blood letting many heroes are made
There will not be peace in the World at least not in my lifetime
And by many Seasons i am one who has outlived my physical prime
War men and patriots and aging war heroes refuse for to allow memories of war for to fade
Everyday at some war memorial by an army bugler The Last Post is played
From life we are supposed to never stop learning till the day we do die
Though in some cases this does seem to be a lie.

On Good And Bad Karma

On good and bad Karma i for one does believe
The one who gives willingly can expect to receive
Good things in return since good karmic seeds she or he does sow
We reap our own Karma this much i do know
You may be one who has committed a serious crime
Yet the law does not catch up with you and you do not serve prison time
But for your crime you will have some price to pay
Since Karma is bound for to find you one day
But if you sow the seeds of good in your life by helping anyone of your help in need
You are insuring for yourself future good Karma by your every good deed
Though with my opinions on this many may not agree
At least anyhow this is how it seems to me
If you do willingly give in return you can expect to receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe.

March The First By Mushera

The first day of the calendar Spring in Duhallow on the birth of March dawn
The gray rain fogs of Mushera above Tooreenbawn
A light drizzle blowing in the chilly breeze
And songbirds are silent on bare deciduous trees
Though far milder weather with each dawn is near
It is cold and wet by Mushera at this time of year
The water flowing bank high in every stream and drain
And the weather forecasters predicting gales and heavy rain
On the high and bare fields by Mushera the sun will not shine today
And in the farmyard sheds cattle are bellowing for silage or hay
Though on the deciduous trees leaf buds to be seen
They soon will be wearing their new leaves of green
It is cold and wet by Mushera on the birth of Spring day
And going by the weather forecast more rain on the way.

Self Praise Is No Praise

Self Praise is no praise as the wise one does say
To me this is true since i see it this way
Though some say that in the twenty first century if you do not self promote
That you will never become one as worthy of note
Most of the wealthy minority for the poor seem to have neither time or any money to spare
In a world where many seem to grow poorer for every new millionaire
And though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
For one to win big many have to lose
Suppose this is how it is and it always will be
In a World where some only know of want and poverty
Whilst the gap between the poor and the wealthy is widening by the day
On their journey in life many have lost their way
Self praise is no praise but in the twenty first century
That self promotion has become an in thing is how it seems to be.

Kathleen Kelleher

Kathleen Kelleher lived in Rathcoole in Duhallow till she became the late Connie Kelleher's wife
And in Millstreet Town she raised her children and lived for most of her life
She was not an aged person perhaps ten years with three score
Sad to think that in Duhallow she will be seen never more

The life journey that we are on for all of us comes to an end
She will be missed in Lackabane and Millstreet Town where she had many a friend
Where she was known and respected and where she had lived for years
The funeral of Kathleen Kelleher would not have gone without tears

One who never sought the social limelight she lived life in the quiet way
That Kathleen was a nice and an easy going person of her only fair to say
In her prime years quite attractive her hair was wavy and brown
Doubtless then one of the finest in Duhallow's Millstreet Town

In St Mary's by Cashman's Hill where many of the dead of Millstreet lay
The last remains of Kathleen Kelleher are in eternal rest today
But mental images remain of her though the gift of life from her has gone
And in the minds of all who knew her good memories of her will live on.

Kim Kruger

Kim Kruger she did have a birthday of late
And doubtless she is one who did celebrate
In a party with friends and family of laughter and cheer
And lots of good food washed down with champagne and beer

Kim a likeable person her praises ought to be sung
Perhaps in her early forties but for her age she looks young
An intelligent woman well informed and bright
Of success one can say that she has scaled the height

A down to earth person free of any guile
Kim Kruger is one i have not seen for awhile
Of knowledge and wisdom and insight to share
A bit of time listening to her one could spare

Doubtless her glass of cheer it was full to the brim
When her friends at the party sang happy birthday to Kim
A woman of substance well liked and well known
One can say of her in a class of her own.

Online Scammers

Believe me they are not and will never be rare
Of internet scammers there are more than a share
They have cheated lonely people out of their life savings no mercy to their victims they do show
Of them one can say they are the lowest of the low
Amongst those who bring upon humanity shame
They rank with the worst of people that one could name
To cheat a lonely innocent person out of his or her life's savings seems all wrong to me
How callous and selfish some people can be
Internet scammers the seeds of bad Karma for themselves only sow
Though Karma they do not fear and of it's workings do not wish to know
Some of them their victims never do meet
Though out of their life's savings them they do cheat
They do not have morals or any honor at all
Of them one can say in their ways they are small.

Peggy O Keeffe

She lived in Millstreet Parish for most of her long life
Her name was Peggy Tarrant before she became Autie O Keeffe's wife
She and Autie raised their children John and Peg in Minor Row
Such people as they were nice people to know

With shoulder length dark brown wavy hair in her life's prime
Though this is going back many decades in time
One of the prettiest in Millstreet in the days of old
In her ways a nice person and quite beautiful to behold

The great gift of life from Peggy O Keeffe may have gone
But in all who knew her good memories of her will live on
She lived as a good person of her one can say
And her family and friends worse off for her passing today

Her journey in life may have come to an end
But many in Millstreet will miss her as a friend
With Autie in St Mary's her last remains lay
From where they used to live just a short walk away.

If You Have Many Friends

If you have many friends you too have some foes
This is how life is one would have to suppose
Like the wise parents advice to their daughter and son
You cannot be everything to everyone
Not everyone you know wishes to be your friend
This is how it is why otherwise pretend
The people popular with everyone are rarer than rare
This is something of which you ought to be aware
Quite a popular person the one reputed to be the most popular in the town
Though a few in their words verbally put him down
The words of the wise one well worthy of recall
You well may win many but you will not win them all
If you have many friends you too have some foes
This is how life is one would have to suppose.

I Feel Lucky In Life

I feel lucky in life in some sort of a way
On the kind and nice people i meet every day
Those who on humanity my faith does restore
Though of their kind the World is in need of far more
Unaware i dropped twenty dollars in the park yesterday
Till an old lady nearby to me did say
Sir you have dropped twenty dollars it is there on the ground
On a complete stranger to me in her a trusting friend i had found
She could have put the twenty dollars in her purse and i would not have known
But far more honest than dishonest people in the World is something to me that is known
When i thanked the old lady for her honesty
She said i know that you would do the same for me
Just one example of human integrity
There are billions of honest people in the World crooks are in minority.

As A Boy And A Young Man

As a boy and a young man i played Gaelic Football
But at that game i was not of any use at all
But the Gaelic Football stars of my young years today walking slow
The years even on the best do eventually show

I feel reasonably happy and healthy for one of my years
And for the past i have no regrets or tears
And though i will never be honored in story and song
I am amongst the lucky to have survived this long

Time and distance has me far south of my first home-place
Where years ago mine to most was a known face
But we all follow the course of our life's destiny
At least anyway this is how it seems to me

As a young man i played Gaelic Football and Soccer and in Road Races did compete
But i never became a sporting hero of Millstreet
But of living six decades and eight years thus far i did survive
And i feel quite happy to be in good health and alive.

Where Dead People Lay

In every village and town and city and on every street
People with each other for success do compete
But for every individual all of this does come to an end one day
There are no competitions where dead people lay

Why do we have this urge in us that drives us to compete
For to be the best in business or the best athlete
Or the wealthiest or most popular one in the town
The need is in most for their place in renown

Though this in itself seems a sad thing to say
Money speaks every language it does seem this way
Everyday people compete for money and fame
In the Human World it does seem success is the big game

Suppose it is all about self centeredness as well as greed
That some people only think of their own need
And live for the self till the day they do die
Yet there should be more to life than me, myself and i

It is only the praises of those deemed to be successful the impressionable majority do sing
In a World where success remains as the in thing
But the Reaper of Lives on all lives has the final say
And there are no competitions for success where dead people lay.

We Live In An age

We live in an age when the men and women of rhyme
Will not be remembered beyond their lifetime
Times as ever changing and few things do last
And tomorrow today it will be of the past

Though despite the best efforts to kill it off by the literary critics rhyme is not dead
And who knows it may become popular again in the decades ahead
And long after the life from the last twenty first century literary critic has gone
Rhyme as the source of song it will be living on

By literary critics who graduated from uni with literary degrees we are told
That rhyme does belong back there in the days of old
It is they who decide who or who is not a poet
Or who is even worthy of the title of one of minor literary note

Those who claim that rhyme in the long gone decades belong
Though they think they are clever have got it all wrong
Decades ago their sort did say that rhyme would not survive
But in centuries from this day it will be read, sung and recited and very much alive.

The Man Who Always Speaks The Truth

It is said he is arrogant and lacking in ruth
That he is not a nice person the man who always speaks the truth
His honesty never has won him a friend
Deceit can work wonders for you why otherwise pretend
For lies in his life there is never a place
He will tell you what he thinks of you up to your face
It is said of him that he lacks in common sense
That if he learned for to bend the truth he would cause less offense
He may well be a person of integrity
Though one never wins friends out of complete honesty
The most truthful person in all of the town
But complete honesty is never a claim to renown
The reason he is seen as arrogant and lacking in ruth
Is that he is a person who lives by the truth.