Apart In My Ways

Apart in my ways of others i do grow
So little about people i can claim for to know
Even those i think i know well in ways strangers to me
But then i am not a student of the ways of humanity
Those i think i know well look at life in ways differently
Suppose if we all thought in the same way how boring we would be
The human mind can think in strange ways would you not agree
Sometimes in my thoughts i become a stranger to me
Our friends of today may be our future foes
That we are what we are one would have to suppose
And trust is a thing anyone does not have to spare
From once it is broken it is hard to repair
Apart in my ways of others i have grown
But then suppose we all have ways of our own.

Maurlene Buckley

With her husband Denis she raised their children in their home in Millstreet's Town Hill
In memory time often does seem to stand still
Maurlene O'Flynn Buckley was one of Duhallow's finest when i was very young
The praises of a woman of such rare beauty deserves to be sung
Since the Buckleys lived on the Millstreet Town Hill many years have gone by
And on looking back the Seasons time does seem to fly
The Buckleys on the Town Hill of Millstreet did not stay
Suppose in all of our lives destiny does have some say
Time has brought change to Millstreet many that i knew there
Have followed their dreams and are growing old elsewhere
A beauty of Millstreet of a by gone day
So sad to learn of the news that from life she has passed away
She lived to a great age hope she died free of pain
And good mental images of her remain.

Sister Marietta

In Rockhampton on the Fitzroy River in sub tropical Queensland where it is often forty degrees
And is often even quite warm in the shade of the trees
Patricia Ryan Sister Marietta from Millstreet in Duhallow's green and wet countryside
Where she had lived for many years of her life died

One who sacrificed the chance of becoming a mother and somebody's wife
As a Sister of Mercy in devotion to her God was her calling in life
Her vows to serve the poor for her God she did take
It does take a very special woman such a sacrifice for to make

Perhaps on her flights of fancy she often see Clara in the gray fogs of rain
And walked on the streets of Millstreet Town again
From where her's was a well known and a beloved face
Her journey in life took her to a sunnier and a far warmer place

A book on her surely would make for a great read
It was a selfless life she had chosen for to lead
She was one that i knew of but never did meet
A marvelous ambassador for humanity from Station road in Millstreet

From Duhallow and Millstreet Town in kilometers far away
The last remains of Patricia Ryan Sister Marietta in eternal lay
In sunny Rockhampton in Queensland she died
With her brother Philip and her sister Muriel and her sister in law Catherine at her bedside.

Halls Gap

Halls Gap of the Gariwerd Ranges with wooded hills all around
Where red deer cockatoos and corellas and kangaroos in numbers abound
Where the laughter of the kookaburras can be heard every day
An old Town from most towns that is far away
As a tourist attraction it is widely known
One can say of Halls Gap that it has a charm of it's own
In the Brambuk Aboriginal Center with link to the people of the Dreamtime
It has inspired the legends of story and rhyme
Long before the Town of Halls Gap in the place of many trees
The local Indigenous tribes lived and had their corroborees
To them the Gariwerd Ranges was a sacred place
And their legends live on as Halls Gap first race
But the old wooded hills would not have changed in time
They were old when the age of the Dinosaurs was in it's prime.

In The Age Of The Celebrity

Millions of people are living in extreme poverty
Though poverty is a relative thing would you not agree
The poor one to you may not be so to me
This is how it is and how it always will be
Even in the World's wealthiest Nations poor people are not rare
So many in poverty for every millionaire
To live as a pauper anyone does not choose
In a World where a few for to win many have to lose
It does seem the wealthy minority has God on their side
As the gap between the have and the have not seems to grow ever wide
You have the working poor and the homeless and the refugee
Poverty it can be relative it does seem to me
The praises of the wealthy and famous the impressionable do sing
In the age of the celebrity this is the in thing.

And Little Else More

A university don with a clear speaking voice
Quite snobbish by nature and snobbish by choice
On the radio bragged of his science and his literary degree
In his posh way of speaking he did not appeal to me
On his recorded literary lecture he said it is not modern poetry if it does rhyme
That rhyme it does belong to another time
Suppose he is entitled to his opinion each to his or her own
As a literary critic by fans of modern poetry one respected and widely known
But his sort of person never give rhyme a fair go
They may say they are not biased though in truth they seem so
He did seem quite opinionated and snobbish as many of his sort are
And though on the social ranking he may have climbed far
Like all lovers of blank verse he help to keep modern poetry to the fore
But like everyone else his is just an opinion and little else more.

When Last I Met Colette Hickey

When Last i met Colette Hickey she was with her sister Clare
At the Normandy Hotel in Clifton Hill they were free of any care
Their spirit of adventure had brought them far south of Millstreet Town
To the City where old Yarra ever flows in cloak of brown

They did seem very happy for to meet a fellow from Millstreet
But sadly i remember them i never more did meet
Our journeys in life did take us to places elsewhere
It is a very big World the big World out there

A long way south of Duhallow even by air
For Clare and Colette of the ginger curly hair
But going back the years this now seems long ago
And time as we know becomes everyone's foe

In two decades and seven years many of the babies back then
Are nowadays the parents of the future young women and men
And memories are all we have left of the what used to be
Of people we knew never more for to see

Meeting Clare and her younger sister Colette a memory for me to enjoy
I see on her death notice that she lived and died in Fermoy
From Millstreet Town not a long journey by car
Far nearer to there than the Normandy Hotel Bar

By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's her last remains lay
And in her passing she is grieved by her family and friends today
From life's cares for all of us a final release
The beautiful Colette may she now rest in peace.

There Is The Man

There is the man who till death remains faithful to his wife
To his marriage vows he remains true for life
A high moral standard in life he does attain
And faithful till death to his woman remain

There is the man whose marriage vows he never could keep
And with other women he has been known for to sleep
Sex outside of marriage to him is okay
And faithful to one woman he never could stay

And then there is the man who by nature is gay
As a closet homosexual he must live this way
That he must keep his secret to him seems obviously clear
As the scorn of his family and friends he does fear

There are the men who are addicted to gambling and drugs and alcoholic drink
Of suicide their kind often live on the brink
To appease their addictions many of them turn to crime
And for their offenses they serve prison time

Some men live moral lives others are their own worst foes
There are good and bad men one does have to suppose
Some know of fame and wealth others only know of shame
No two journeys in life are exactly the same.

Margaret Rahilly

In her and John's home in Port Fairy Janice and i often enjoyed afternoon tea
Margaret Rahilly who died looking out on the sea
When the silver gulls were mewing and the nesting songbirds did sing
On a breezy evening in late October in the prime of the Spring

One her chair with her family around her on her life's final day
The living breath from her body slowly slipping away
One who was loved by many and had made many a friend
After a long illness the life's journey of a beautiful person was very close to an end

A few months short of her seventy fourth birthday which is not very old
The cancer that had ravaged her ailing body for many months on her finally told
In her garden the magpie was fluting his familiar air
As for the last time in her lounge room she gazed on the ocean sitting in her chair

The beautiful woman of the beautiful singing voice
For to die in her early seventies would not be her choice
Margaret Tynan Rahilly loved her family and friends and she fought for her life
And to John Rahilly she was such a wonderful wife.

The Memories Remain

I have not been to my first home-place for twenty nine years
And for the what used to be i have shed my last tears
But on my flights of fancy the Claramore rill
Babbles towards Claraghatlea down the fields by the hill
Where mine years ago was a familiar face
Today i would be a stranger to many in my first home-place
And with only mental images of them to retain
So many i knew i will not see again
The boys and girls of the fifties have known a better day
And some of them where the deceased are now lay
Time that does not wait for anyone did not wait for me
But on my flights of fancy i often do see
Old Clara half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
The past may be gone but the memories remain.

Time Did Not Wait

Time did not wait for Caesar or for Genghis Khan
The schoolboy in a decade grows into a man
And a decade of years in one's physical prime
Eventually we all become victims of time
And time did not wait for Alexander the Great
Though his legend today many do celebrate
Or for Joan of Arc and Anne Boleyn
The martyrs for women at the hands of cruel men
For the president, the pope and every leader of state
Like everyone else time does not wait
We live in the now and yesterday has gone
And time does not wait it keeps on ticking on
For the movie star or the winner of Olympic Gold
It just ticks on and on and people grow old.

This Thing Known As Greed

Some people with each other are born to compete
To be best in their neighborhood or best on their street
To be best in the Nation or even be best Worldwide
It is all about self and it is all about pride
The happy with their lot in life now seem rare
So many aspire to being a billionaire
Some people it does seem are never satisfied
Though financially well off with luck on their side
The praises of billionaires the aspirational do sing
Money more so now than ever does seem the in thing
The more money some people have the more they seem to need
It does seem infectious this thing known as greed
The competition for success it goes on every day
This is how it is and it will always be this way.

The Most Valuable Thing

The most valuable thing that you have is your life
This is despite what many to you might say
Your Wordly possessions to you of no use
When the Reaper of lives does come reaping your way

That death is a part of life happens to be true
And in death your Worldly possessions you cannot take with you
Your material accumulations behind you must stay
They do not need money the dead where they lay

Your life is the most valuable thing you possess
That even does go for the multi billionaire
Though money is quite important as we know
The Reaper of lives the lives of the wealthiest not known to spare

The wealthiest like the poorest are born to die
The Reaper of lives claims all lives from the great to the small
The great gift of life is the greatest gift we possess
To a deceased person money is of no use at all.

But Does It Really Matter

Far north of this countryside by Warrnambool
I was dunce of the classroom where i went to school
But going back the years this now seems long ago
And time as is said becomes everyone's foe

Some i went to school with are where the deceased do lay
And the others like me are showing their years today
And each individual's life journey has to come to an end
We are born to die why otherwise pretend

The bright boys of of my classroom i often wonder about
Like me do they have their moments of self doubt
From studying quite hard success they did achieve
Knowledge does not come to the mind not open to receive

In my late twenties and thirties i daydreamed of fame as a poet
Wealthy and admired and of literary note
But rhymers are many and poets are few
And to this you may say do tell us what is new

But does it really matter when all is said and done
If any success in life i have never won
The best years of my existence are in the long gone
And my biological clock as ever ticking on.

Koroit Of The Moyne Shire

With strong links to an indigenous history as one of it's claim to renown
Koroit of the Moyne Shire is an old Irish Town
Most of it's residents family links to Ireland can trace
Any Irish person in Koroit should not feel out of place
A gem of south west Victoria in the Moyne countryside
Koroit for it's hospitable people is known far and wide
Koroit the home of the Irish Festival and the Lake School
Twenty minutes by car from the City of Warrnambool
Near Tower Hill of the Budj Bim home to emu and roo
And koala, wallaby and echidna, corella and black cockatoo
Koroit where many do visit for a holiday
And some even return for a longer stay
As an old Irish Town with a charm of it's own
Koroit of the Moyne Shire it is widely known.

Far More Good Than Bad People

That in the World far more good than bad people does only seem true for to say
Though we hear of and read of bad crimes in the media and newspapers every day
In general most people are kindhearted and would never do anyone wrong
Though some who were not good living people have been honored in story and song
For every one of the criminal minded there are hundreds who live in the honest way
Who never would harm anybody and always earn an honest pay
Live and let live is the teaching that every good person lives by
You cannot claim to be a good person if others of a fair go you deny
Good people they give for to receive to their higher self they do live
In life you should not expect to receive if you are not willing to give
In the World far more good than bad people happens for to be true
And of how you treat others does become your due
If you are willing to give you can expect to receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe.

A Late October Dawn

The brown flood that was flowing bank high yesterday
Though somewhat subsided towards the ocean rapidly babbling it's way
And in the cool gray of a late October dawn
The salmon against the strong current are swimming upriver to spawn
The urge to breed in them they do brave their fear
And run the gauntlet of the poacher's gaff and spear
Who search for to kill them in the dead of night
In the river shallows with the aid of powerful spotlight
To pass on their genes in them there is the need
And in late Autumn they risk their lives to swim upriver to breed
Though some their goal to breed due to poachers do not attain
And they never return to the ocean again
Against the strong current in the gray of a chilly October dawn
The salmon are swimming upriver to spawn.

For Their Poor Life Choices

For their poor life choices the price some do have to pay
This is how it is and it has always been this way
But that we can only learn from our mistakes is the best we can do
And this applies to everyone and not alone me and you
In life there are lessons for us every day
And that we never stop learning in truth one can say
Life choices can make a millionaire of you or leave you in poverty
But no point in regretting of the what might be
And though time has left you looking older and your hair silver gray
No point on you saying if i had made better life choices i would now be financially okay
You can only learn from the past since the past it has gone
And life all around you as usual goes on
And remember your salary or the size of your home or the size of your car
Does not define the person that you really are.

The Stoccos

For Australia's most wanted life cannot be much fun
The notorious Queenslanders the Stoccos they are on the run
Though Gino and Mark Stocco the hunted father and son
Like all other outlaws will eventually come undone

They are not the type that many wish to befriend
And though heavy armed their crime spree will come to an end
Seven years on the run and the cops on them closing in
On a shootout due to weight of numbers with the law they could not hope to win

The Stoccos the outlaws have less friends than foes
Though far worse than they are one has to suppose
But when the police corner them human blood may spill
For it is likely that they will be shooting to kill

Gino Stocco and Mark his son have served prison time
And of late they have shot at police quite a serious crime
Some of the by roads of New South Wales and Victoria they do know quite well
Seven years on the run of time seems quite a spell

In Australia by the police the most wanted of today
But far worse than the Stoccos in truth one can say
Though they are running out of safe places to hide
And the police have the numbers and time on their side.

For Their Spot In Heaven

That some people have strange religious beliefs one cannot deny
People kill other people for their god in the sky
For their spot in heaven when their body does die
Moses fifth commandment to them is a lie

In compassion and empathy they surely do lack
A life can be easily taken but cannot be given back
The god they believe in has to be a cruel god indeed
Of their sort of god humanity is not in need

They do not believe on live and let live
To the relatives of the innocent lives they do take only sorrow they do give
Whoever convinced them for murder they would be rewarded in heaven them surely did deceive
Though bigger fools them such falsehoods to believe

The people who wish on all people different to them ill
For their god they do die others for to kill
These murderous fundamentalist must not be right in the head
For to leave so many innocent people maimed and dead.

The Karma We Sow

Of life there is one thing i can claim to know
That the karma we reap is the karma we sow
We eventually receive from life what is our due
What goes around comes around is ever true
If you wrong somebody there is a price for you to pay
If the law does not catch up with you karma will one day
Those who are kind to others good karma do receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe
Of their future good karma the kind and compassionate every day plant the seed
And of more of their sort the Human World is in need
The wrong i do to another is the wrong i do to me
To each their own is how it should be
Of life there is one thing i can claim to know
That the karma we reap is the karma we sow.

The Man Of Self Doubt

When it comes to news-makers he is always left out
As he does go unnoticed the man of self doubt
By feeling that he is never good enough
He makes life on himself one can say quite tough
Lack of confidence on self can be a destructive thing
The majority of the known to be successful their own praises do sing
It can be true that arrogance often does pay
This is something that is quite evident in the Human World of today
It does seem that cockiness can serve one well
So many too willing their own stories to tell
He is materially successful the man who takes self love too far
He owns a big home and drives a big brand new car
One does have to feel for the man of self doubt
Since he is always the one who does seem to lose out.

She Was Terang's Rose

In her prime years her shoulder length hair like ripe chestnut was wavy and brown
In her twenties the beautiful young rose of old Terang Town
But in years this is going back some three decades ago
And time as we know becomes everyone's foe

Now in her mid fifties her better days long gone
And the biological clock on her life ever keeps ticking on
With brown hair hair dye she now covers her gray
And clearly she has known a far better day

The man that she loved did not make her his wife
And without any children or a lover in her life
She must find her Hometown of Terang a lonely old place
Where her's is a known and a familiar face

That time leaves it's mark on the human body is only true to say
The clothes she wore in her prime would not fit her today
In the nineteen eighties she was Terang's Rose
That time leaves everyone looking and feeling older one has to suppose.

Quite Lucky Indeed

There are so many people not as lucky as me
At least anyhow this is how it seems to be
I could have been born as the child of a refugee
Or of poor parents who were living in dire poverty
I have never known of the true feeling of hunger pain
And i do not have any reason about to complain
So many far worse off than me Worldwide
I do feel lady luck she has been on my side
I could be on a hospital bed flat on my back
As a victim of an accident or a heart attack
Or as a paraplegic living my days in a wheelchair
Then i could say that life to me is not at all fair
Of anything i never do go in need
One might say i am lucky quite lucky indeed.

Old Memories Live In Me

Old memories live in me as a source of joy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
In the fields west of Millstreet in view of Clara Hill
In my memory time does seem to stand still

In my visualizations i hear the nesting birds sing
In the grove by my first home in the prime of the Spring
When the hawthorns are cloaked in their white blooms of the May
Good memories live on though time does tick away

Often on flights of fancy i hear the flooded rill
Bank high babbling to the river down the fields by the hill
When the cold winds of December are soughing in the bare trees
And the weather temperatures are often at zero degrees

The past it has gone and we can only live in today
But old memories live in me of long ago and far away
In the fields by the river where the green rushes grow
The home of rook and badger and silver backed crow.

A Pleasure For To Meet

On sunny days she often sits on the timber seat in the park by the street
One whose lovely smile always betrays the gap in her teeth
A woman in her late eighties with shoulder length hair of silver gray
She must have been quite beautiful back on her prime day

I have often spoken to her at length she has a sad story to tell
Her husband passed away last year for years he had not been well
Years ago their only child in his early twenties died as a very young man
In a bloody battle under gunfire in the war in south Vietnam

She says she has been lucky to have been a good man's wife
And apart from the loss of their son they had a happy life
With a good philosophy on life she says make the most of every day
The past she says she cannot change and health-wise she feels okay

Her long gray hair to her shoulders she walks in a slow pace
But for one in her late eighties she has a lovely face
Her happy smile it does betray the obvious gap in her teeth
And people like her one can say are a pleasure for to meet.

So Very Different Indeed

In Nature the strongest and biggest wins the right to mate
And the loser is left to an uncertain fate
In the Human World the male with money wields the power
Money appeals more to most women than the gift of a beautiful flower
That money speaks every language is a truism of human life
The aging grandfather sugar daddy has a lovely young wife
Young enough to be his granddaughter for her his aging wife he did divorce
That for him she left her young lover is not surprising of course
Often in the town park they do walk hand in hand
Why young women choose old blokes with money not hard to understand
Though she is quite beautiful and in her life's prime
With her aging sugar daddy she can have a good time
The biggest and strongest animal wins the right to breed
But in the Human World it is so very different indeed.

Success Can Be Relative

Though many interesting people i have happened to meet
I have not known of success far south of Millstreet
But what is success one must ask anyway
It has many faces some are known to say
That many look at success in different ways happens to be true
And the one who is successful to me may not be so to you
But of singing the praises of the materially wealthy some never do tire
It is only the billionaires and millionaires they do admire
The old saying of money speaks every language is relevant today
To buy anything that is for sale you need money for it to pay
And since i have little money most i do not impress
I am not one of those who has known of material success
Yet in a World where one person's loss is another's gain
That success can be relative as a truism remain.

Wonthaggi

In Wonthaggi a former coastal mining Town of South Gippsland there is no mining for coal today
The most of the Wonthaggi miners in the cemetery by Cameron Street lay
The men who led the miners strike in South Gippsland for better working conditions and pay
Made life better for all Australian coal miners they were men among men one can say
Once the home of South Gippsland's first people the tribe known as the Bunurong
To the centuries prior to written history their legends and stories belong
They hunted and fished in South Gippsland and in Summer evenings had their corroborees
Out of the heat of the full sun in the cooler shade of the trees
From Wonthaggi and the surrounding country the Bunurong and the coal miners gone
The passing of time does bring changes But life as it has always done goes on
Yet sadly in the Town of Wonthaggi where Australian coal mining history was made
For the hard working coal mining migrants no monument or never a street parade
As is said about time it brings changes and eventually becomes everyone's foe
And to Wonthaggi in southern Gippsland the Seasons do come and do go.

Teddy O' Callaghan

He and his late wife Marion owned McCarthy's Bar in Millstreet Town Square for many years
And among family and friends his passing from life would not have gone without tears
Teddy O' Callaghan was a quiet man and kind in his own way
Quiet waters are deep as the wise are known to say

It can be said of Teddy that he was one of Millstreet's own
As the man of the pub in the Town Square he became widely known
In Millstreet as in everywhere else the changes keep happening fast
And all we have left are memories of the past

To the scythe of life's Reaper we eventually must fall
The last day and night is ahead of us all
Teddy perhaps in his eighties of time lived a good span
Near Millstreet Town he was born and grew into a man

To the higher self he did live as quite true
And he was a good person for to give him his due
His mum and his dad in him raised a good son
In his long life in Millstreet he never harmed anyone

Where many of the deceased of the Parish do lay
In the cemetery at St Mary's he is at peace today
A link to the Millstreet of the long ago
So sad to learn of the passing of Teddy Connie Joe.

The Legend Of The Paps Of Shrone

It is said where Anu does lay in east Kerry her fertile breasts grew to the Paps of Shrone
They overlook the small fields all around them distinguished in their ditches made of stone
A story from the first people of Sliabh Luachra call it myth or legend or call it what you may
The Paps of Shrone a feature of east Kerry does overlook the Sliabh Luachra of today
Perhaps the mountains have been there forever and each mountain has a history of it's own
And every mountain in it's shape distinctive though some mountains than others seem better known
The Paps of Shrone together seem very similar like a woman's giant breasts pointing towards the sky
Why they are known to everyone as the Paps peaks there is no reason for to wonder why
The mountains were there long before the age of the dinosaurs and long before the birth of the first human
The Paps of Shrone the breasts of Goddess Anu must have been there since time itself began
Close to the Cork border near Rathmore in east Kerry the Paps of Shrone like giant breasts do stand
Overlooking the fields of Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow a famous landmark in southern Ireland
Doubtless to say they will be there forever and of how old they are will remain as an unknown
Legend has it that they are the giant breasts of Goddess Anu and they do have a charm of their own.

If With Hope You Keep Faith

Your luck it will turn if with hope you keep faith
As is said everything does come to those who do wait
Today for you has been another bad day
Things for you can get better it does seem this way
Today there are many so many like you in the town
Who are feeling despondent and financially down
Yet little use in complaining that life is unfair
And of better times in the future you ought not despair
The great gift of hope is a wonderful thing
And better times to you the future may bring
No point in looking and feeling quite sad
Life could be worse for you though for you times are bad
Hope springs eternal as the wise one does say
And tomorrow for you may be a better day.

Only By Chance

Life comes to us by chance would you not agree
And it is chance made an ordinary rhymer of me
We all are gifted in some sort of a way
That everyone is good at something does seem true to say
I have been to many places walked on many a street
But an untalented person i have yet to meet
Some do lose their way and some make it to wealth and to fame
No two journeys in life are exactly the same
And though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
For one for to win someone else has to lose
And though everyone's life story deserves to be told
It is only by chance one does live to die old
And it is only by chance i have written this rhyme
That many do look on as a waste of time.

Ours For Pay

To one politician criticizing one of an opposition why pay any heed
Since to hear one praise one of the opposition would seem strange indeed
Since most politicians with their feelings are not honest in any way
Of their political opponents they never have any kind things for to say

To politicians criticizing each other any heed one should not pay
The game of deceptive words they do know how to play
Most of them follow the party line even though on some of the party's policies they do not believe
Most politicians to their feelings not true their own thoughts they deceive

How can they be true to anybody if to their own selves they cannot be true
But we get the politicians we do deserve in life we do receive our due
They happen to be our reflective mirrors those we vote into power on election day
Our political legislators say more about us than words could ever say

By those that we vote into parliament we surely do leave ourselves down
They only represent the wealthy minority and never the poor of the town
And when politicians criticize their political opponents it is just a word game they do play
On our poor choices on those who represent us the price it is ours for to pay.

An Open Marriage

They have raised their children as man and wife
And never any secrets between them in life
They have an open marriage as they say
That this is the game any husband and wife can play
In their early fifties their best years long gone
And time on them it does keep on ticking on
No questions asked between them like to where have you been
For years they have been part of the swingers scene
Without any naughty secrets from each other to hide
They have sex with each other as well as their bit on the side
Most long term couples and they are not rare
Their infidelities with each other never do share
On not being honest with each other the point they do miss
That an open marriage can truly be bliss.

You Should Feel Lucky

You should feel lucky who you are you have good hands and feet
And you can walk unassisted on the flag walks of the street
Some people spend their waking hours sitting in a wheelchair
You cannot say that life to you is in any way unfair

You should feel lucky who you are you have good hearing and eyes
That everyone are not this lucky you ought to realize
Some people do not hear a word that others do say
And some they never have looked on the bright lamp of the day

And though you are one who does crave financial wealth
You ought to feel thankful for your gift of good health
The billionaire dying of cancer envies the likes of you
That good health is more important than financial wealth happens for to be true

You have a nice wife, healthy children a good job and home and good car
You ought to feel thankful for how lucky you are
But you feel that by life you have been hard done by
Which just goes to prove that some people are hard to satisfy.

Peter O' Sullivan

Peter O' Sullivan a farmer of an old family history
Spent all of his younger years in Ballinagree
But in Cloghoulamore near Millstreet where he raised his family with Ellen his wife
He did spend the greater part of his long life

Though this is going back many decades in time
I do remember Peter when in his life's prime
A dark haired handsome fellow athletic looking and tall
Only good memories of him i have to recall

He would have been an octogenarian and of time lived quite a span
Yet so sad to learn of the passing of one who was a good man
In his working life he worked very hard on his farm every day
And nothing ever easy in life came his way

A down to earth fellow and free of conceit
One of the more humble people of Millstreet
He lived in his own way and done his own thing
And his own praises to others he never did sing

Than Peter one could not wish for a better friend
And so sad to learn his life's journey has come to an end
From his family home in Cloghoulamore just a few kilometers away
By Cashaman's Hill in St Mary's his last remains lay.

Father Jack

He died in the evening four days ago of a massive heart attack
Many of the parish poor today shed tears at the burial of Father Jack
They loved him for the man he was compassionate and kind
A better friend than Father Jack they never more will find

In his late fifties and in good health he died quite suddenly
In the parish for many years he led the fight against poverty
To his higher self he remained true right to the very end
To those who were in need of help he always was a friend

Father Jack was everything that a good priest should be
He helped the homeless of the town he helped the refugee
Of anyone he never did have one bad word to say
The best and the holiest one in town was put to earth today

To the god he believed in he always was so true
The widespread grief at news of his passing it only was his due
Among the poor of the parish his was a well loved face
He was a great man Father Jack and none to take his place.

He Is Living Far South

He is living far south of where Araglen flow
In the fields of the badger the rook and the silver backed crow
In green old Duhallow where he first saw light of day
The years have left him looking old, tired and gray
He was in his life's prime six decades ago
But time that rusts iron has become his foe
Today in Duhallow a stranger he would be
In the countryside between Kiskeam and Boherbue
A widower grandfather his best years long gone
And the biological clock on him ticking on
In his mid eighties time on him does tell
But for one of his years he is looking quite well
He lives in Allansford by the Hopkins River near the City of Warrnambool
A long way south of Boherbue where he went to primary school.

In Illowa In October

The paddocks lush and green and the wild birds do sing
In Illowa in October in the prime of the Spring
The meadows being mowed for baled silage or hay
And on nutritious young grass cattle gaining weight by the day
On the roadside margins of the Southern Cross road in their yellow flowers
The capeweed in their billions in bloom after recent Spring showers
The warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and nectar gathering bees
Taking nectar from the blossoms and flowers on the bushes and trees
The magpies kept busy by their fully fledged brood
Who though out of the nest keep constantly begging for more and more food
Feeding their young in their cup shaped mud nest on fork of branch of tree
The black and white magpie larks are calling pee wee
In the blue and sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
And the blackbird are singing in Illowa today.

On the Slopes Of Clara Mountain

On the slopes of Clara Mountain in the gray of the twilight after sundown
I often gazed upon the darkening fields and the lights of Millstreet Town
In the high woodland of Claramore the nesting birds did sing
I only have the good memories of what is a long gone Spring

I only have the mental images of the beauty i have seen
But good memories last a lifetime and in the mind stay evergreen
In a Spring gloam on Clara Mountain time for me seems to stand still
As the gathering clouds of twilight slowly darken the old hill

Like all migrants i only have good memories that remain enjoyable to me
Of the things that brought me pleasure in the long gone what used to be
Save for the bleating of the hill sheep the silence was profound
Above the darkening countryside viewed from the higher ground

Those who never yearned for travel i do envy in a way
They are happy for to grow old in where they first saw light of day
In familiar surroundings among people they know well
You do not have to travel distance to have life stories to tell

In the high wood of Claramore in the twilight of the day
The nesting birds are singing in the prime of Spring in May
On the slopes of Clara Mountain in the gray after sundown
Overlooking the darkening fields and the lights of Millstreet Town.

Compassionate People

The gift of compassion is a great gift indeed
And of more of those who have it the Human World is in need
Compassionate people in deed or word never put anyone down
There ought to be more of them in every town
Compassionate people are blessed with empathy
For the suffering of others they feel sympathy
Without financial reward they work on behalf of those in dire poverty
And are friends of the hungry, the homeless and the refugee
Compassionate people are caring and kind
In war zones and in famine areas where drought is them you will find
To help others they risk life and limb where conflict is rife
The friends of the people who are hard done by life
Compassionate people are nice people to know
One can say of them they have the inner glow.

Self Promotion Nowadays

Self promotion nowadays now does seem the in thing
So many their own praises do love to sing
For success with others many are born to compete
Success as is said can give rise to conceit
That self praise is no praise is surely not a lie
And there must be more to living than me myself and i
Everyday i meet people who tell me of how great they are
That on the ladder of success they have climbed far
But suppose this is their right for to blabber away
One must listen to thunder as the wise one does say
So many like to broadcast their achievements to the big World out there
Humility nowadays never gets one anywhere
Self promotion it does seem is now the in thing
So many their own praises do love to sing.

When Last I Met Connie Taylor

When last i met Connie Taylor he was in his physical prime
But since then there has been many sunsets for this is going way back in time
Back to Inchileigh near Millstreet for a few weeks holiday
The lust of the wander was in him in Duhallow he would not stay
Back then he lived in California but where he is now cannot say
He was a man who liked adventure to age in one place not his way
He was one born for adventure never stay long anywhere
Connie even as a young boy yearned for the big World out there
He was a talented musician one who enjoyed life as well
And of his Worldwide adventures he had great stories to tell
He always seemed happy and carefree though time becomes everyone's foe
He would have aged since i last met him for that was a long time ago
As we parted ways with a handshake he had a big smile on his face
Without him Inchileigh west of Millstreet is surely a far poorer place.

What Have Political Parties Done For Ireland

What have political parties done for Ireland Labour, Fine Gael, Sinn Fein and Fianna Fail
The answer to this does seem simple and this is not that much at all
Emigration has been their job solver going way back the decades of time
To other Countries Ireland it has lost so many good people in their lives prime
The politicians kept the good jobs for their friends and their families for it's political nepotism Ireland is well known
It can be said of politicians in Ireland that they do take care of their own
Not many politicians of ideas in Ireland since the political genius Noel Browne
For his marvelous Mother and Child bill his reward was to be dragged down
By the clergy and conservative majority for being different always a price for to pay
Noel Browne who for poor people brought change for the better is not among the honored in Ireland today
They never vote for change in Ireland their parents tell them how to vote from the grave
To vote for a person of ideas they never could be that brave
What have political parties done for Ireland Labour, Fine Gael, Sinn Fein and Fianna Fail
The answer does seem rather simple they have done very little at all.

Of Her Ways I Am Always Learning

The longest lived human life is not long in time one might say a short span
Everyday one nearer your last day live for as long as you can
Live for as we all know far too well
Of a life for the soul post bodily death no one has come back to tell

Many believe that when life leaves the body that the good soul has wings for to fly
For to live in the paradise of angels god's kingdom beyond the sky
To me this is a simplistic theory but then who am i for to say
That they are not right in their thinking each to their own it is this way

I was born into a roman catholic family in that i did not have any choice
Though to those who speak against religion i am not one who lends my voice
Since Nature is the only god i believe in her beauty is all around me
Of her ways i am always learning everyday some new wonder to see

I have loved the Earth Mother who feeds us ever since i was a young boy
And today as an aging fellow learning new things of her i enjoy
But each to their own way of thinking a truism that remains ever true
And if you sow the seeds of good Karma then good things in life are your due.

The Past Goes With Me

Wherever i go to the past goes with me
Like most i cannot forget the what used to be
Of my physical best years when in my life's prime
Though this is going back many Seasons in time
But we can only live in the now and the past it has gone
And life all around us as usual goes on
Where i was born and raised to many i would be a stranger today
From there perhaps i have been too long away
To make the most of the now is the best i can do
And in this respect what applies to me applies to others too
Tomorrow today will be of the past
And time on my life ever ticking on fast
And wherever i go to the past goes with me
Like most i cannot forget the what used to be.

I Write For Enjoyment

It is not for fame or money that i do pen rhyme
Since if this was the case i would be wasting my time
Without financial reward and as i have said often before
I write for enjoyment and little else more

I never lay claim to the title of poet
I leave that to those who feel worthy of literary note
As a rhymer as such i have not made the grade
Though everyone is needed in the wordsmith trade

Without literary fame or the reward of financial pay
I add to my numbers of rhymes every day
The years have left me looking older and balder and gray
But for as long as i live as a rhymer i will stay

And though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
No shortage of things for me to write rhymes about
I do enjoy rhyming in truth i can say
And what i love doing why should i give away.

Not For Me To Say

To the god of the universe you may well pray
But from you this will not keep the life's reaper away
Your last remains may be destined for a hole in the ground
But you believe that for your god's kingdom post bodily death your soul will be bound

Of a life for the soul after bodily death is not for me to say
For this call me agnostic or atheist or call me what you may
So many believe good souls have wings to fly
To god's universal kingdom somewhere in the sky

Human beings live on an average of a seven decade span
A few years more for a woman than it is for a man
But to live as a good person you do not need a religious belief
It does not mean if you are an agnostic or an atheist that you are a thief

Of the flames of the urn or the dark depths of the grave
From the reaper of lives your god you will not save
Every life form and this includes humans from the great to the small
To the scythe of the dark one of death eventually must fall.

On Bold Thady Quill

Johnny Tom Gleeson immortalized him in a song
And thanks to this to the legends of sports in Ireland he does belong
Though Thady Quill never played hurling or Gaelic football
And in fact at these games he was of no use at all

And Bold Thady he never was a ladies man
Not even in the bloom of his life's elan
And he never drunk black porter as fast as you fill
The hero of the song of the bold Thady Quill

In his lifetime he labored for farmers on him life was tough
And he slept in hay barns one who lived it rough
But in a song of Johnny Tom Gleeson's his name lives today
That words do outlive people does seem true to say

In song Bold Thady Quill does live on in memory
As a legendary figure of old Ballinagree
But he was not the man the song made him out to be
That sometimes words can deceive us would you not agree?

The Now Is All That Does Matter

The future does not exist and the past is of the what used to be
And the now is all that does matter would you not agree
Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And we live in the now and time keeps ticking on
We only can learn from our mistakes of the past
And the years go by quickly and time ticks on fast
In memory we can only live in yesterday
The now is all that dopes matter in truth one can say
Time is our master to time we must bow
But meanwhile we only can live in the now
The future does not exist and all we have are memories of the past
And we can only live in the now and time ticks on fast
The dawn of tomorrow some will not live to see
And yesterday is of the what used to be.

You Become What You Think You Are

You only make life on yourself more tough
When you feel that you are never good enough
That others are superior to you
You are what you think you only seems true
Not good for their self image those who put themselves down
For they never become the high profile people of the town
The egos are deflated or so it does seem
Of those who suffer of low self esteem
Most of those into self promotion in life for themselves do okay
Their well inflated egos huge dividends for them do pay
Lack of confidence in self does lead to low self esteem
You become who you think you are is how it does seem
If you think that others to you are superior then lack of success is your due
That you become what you think you are happens to be true.

In The Mind Of Old Bill

In the mind of the aged man there is the happy teenage boy
Old Bill is determined his old age to enjoy
He is in the local pub every evening for an hour sometimes two
He is determined to enjoy himself as many young people do
He has never been a father or he has never had a wife
But he has never been short of women in his life
Yes he has had many casual affairs down the years
But for the what used to be he does not have any tears
In his early eighties and not one to pretend
He says his women bedding days has come to an end
He just wants to grow old happy and in the pub enjoy a few beers
And join in the revelry of the barroom cheer
What hair he has left on his head may be gray but life he does enjoy
In the mind of old Bill lives a happy teenage boy.

Though Time That Rusts Iron

Though time that rusts iron has left you wrinkled and gray
From life you do learn something new every day
We have been learning from life before we learned how to crawl
Though never a new lesson for the one known as know all

Suppose they are happy in their own ignorance and self conceit
Their sort every day i do happen to meet
They never enlighten me in any way
Ignorance can be bliss as the wise one does say

It is true about knowledge that it does not grow on trees
And though in the uni of life there are not any recognized degrees
But those who learn from their life's experiences do have the inner glow
They realize that despite all they have learned of life they have so much to know

That you are an intelligent person may well be so
But that we learn as we live wisdom from long ago
Though the side affects of an inflated ego is an over inflated sense of self esteem
Some never does learn from life it does seem

That from life we never stop learning one has to believe
But if we are not open to learning knowledge we cannot receive
From the book of life we do learn every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way.

For As Long As You Live

The nostalgia for the past in the migrant remain
To walk on the streets of the hometown again
And meet once dear friends he or she has not met for years
The yearn for the past lives in you though for it you have shed your last tears
In the death of the body nostalgia in the migrant only does die
Those who do tell you different believe their own lie
Nostalgia may lessen as the years go by
Though some migrants this are willing to deny
The past in reality is in the forever gone
But the good memories of what was in the mind lingers on
That nostalgia dies before you die is not exactly true
For as long as you live it will live on in you
On your flights of fancy on a hometown street
Some of your friends of the past again you do meet.

Life Works In This Way

If the law does not catch up with you Karma will one day
For our sins against others we will have some price to pay
What goes around comes around as the wise teacher does say
This is how life works and it has always worked in this way
We reap what we sow and what we sow is our due
That kindness begets kindness happens to be true
There is truth in the saying one must give to receive
On such a philosophy i do believe
Those who have compassion and kindness have great gifts indeed
Of the fruits of good Karma they do plant the seed
At living a good life they do surely succeed
Though of more of their sort the Human World is in need
If the law does not catch up with you Karma will one day
This is how it is life works in this way.

In View Of Cashman's Old Hill

The silence one might say is almost profound
In the quiet of the Tanyard in the burial ground
In the gray of the twilight just after sundown
In view of Cashman's old hill close to Millstreet Town

Where some of the deceased of Millstreet Parish do lay
Many of them by the Cemetery of St Mary's first saw light of day
Some of their descendants in Duhallow reside
And some known to live in Cities Worldwide

Some of them died young and some of them lived to die old
And in book form many of their life stories will never be told
But life is a journey as we all know well
And of everyone's life there is a story to tell

In the gray after sundown as darkness gather in the sky
The starlings in large flocks to their roosting trees fly
And in the Duhallow twilight there is a cool chill
In the freshening breeze blowing down from Cashman's Hill.

People Of Place

Non patriots and non nationalists usually are people of place
One might say to the majority they are a different race
To the place they were raised in true they do stay
For as long as they live till their life's last night and day
Most people of place not interested in stories of heroes of war
Or of towns and cities and places of where they live afar
To them the greatest place in the World is their home-place
Where to everyone his or her's is a known and loved face
They have no desire to see great cities far from home
Like London or Paris or New York or Rome
Of familiar surroundings and faces they never do tire
For to travel in them they never feel the desire
With them it is place before Country is how it seems to be
The big World out there they have no wish to see.

Those Who Like To Talk Of Land Ownership

Those who like to talk of land ownership do not seem for to understand
That we cannot own what we belong to since we do belong to the land
The land it will be here forever and we as mortals are born to die
This is a fact of our existence and fact as we know never lie
Whether we are buried or cremated to the land we will return to one day
We return to what we belong to for this only is Nature's way
To prove your right to property and land ownership in human law you have a paper deed
But we too die like all flora and fauna since we too are grown of a seed
All of our material possessions come from the water or land
Yet many of us do not respect the earth that does feed us though respect we ourselves do demand
We remove her trees for to build factories and for her mineral wealth we dig great holes in her ground
Those not guilty of sins against our Earth Mother in large numbers do not abound
We cannot own what we belong to and we do belong to the land
Something that those who like to talk of land ownership do not seem to understand.

We Never Stop Learning

We never stop learning as the wise teacher say
And of Nature we learn something new every day
And the more we do learn of Nature the more we realize
That we know little of her ways is this a surprise?
In his nesting time in the green of the Spring
It is not for joy the male songbird does sing
But to proclaim the borders of his nesting territory
All males of his own kind are the enemy
My wonder of Nature only does seem to grow
Yet so little of her ways i can claim to know
Yet so much to learn and time ticking on
And the best years of my life in the forever gone
Of Nature i learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way.

She Knows About Life

To the man she did love she had become his wife
And it was the happiest day of her life
By her family and wedding guests congratulatory speeches were made
Happy memories one never does wish for to fade

Her first few years of marriage were times of love and joy
She gave birth to her only child a healthy baby boy
But that her husband had become unfaithful to her she came to realize
And lack of trust to loss of love does give rise

He left her for another to raise their child on her own
The man that she married she had not really known
He never supported her financially
She is one who knows of hard times and poverty

The worst day of her life was the day she lost her son
He died in a car accident when he was twenty one
Some six years ago he would be now in his physical prime
Of years of life he did not have that much time

In her early fifties with some gray in her shoulder length hair of brown
She remains one of the most beautiful women of the town
A nice single down to earth woman though in ways slightly shy
And one who will not give marriage another try.

Unlike The Favorite Dog In The Race

Bumped at the last bend and run out of a place
The favorite dog always does not win the race
Human life is like the dog race one thing you do need
And this is luck on your side for you to succeed
For if it is not your day and your luck is not in
Then like the unlucky favorite dog it is not your turn for to win
Due to a lack of luck great dreams have been destroyed
For to succeed in life you need it on your side
Yesterday's poor man is ten times a millionaire today
For last night the lady of luck she was smiling his way
His jackpot lotto win made him an instant millionaire
He can buy a new home and car for his wife and young family with millions in money to spare
Unlike the favorite dog in the race who was bumped at the bend
On his life changing night luck was his greatest friend.

You Are What You Think You Are

You are what you think you are happens to be true
If you are one of those who think success is not your due
Then success it may well never come your way
We become our thoughts as the wise teacher does say
So many of negative thinking cannot seem to break free
If you feel that you are a failure then a failure you will be
For an example to this look no further than me
For years i have blocked out success in my negativity
It is said that you can change your life in a day
If you begin to think in a positive way
To those who think that they are not good enough
The hill to success for to climb far too tough
You are what you think you are happens for to be true
Your thoughts make a success or a failure out of you.

They Are Middle Aged Those Who Were Children

They are middle aged those who were children when i was in my life's prime
There is no holding back the hands of time
It rusts steel and iron and eventually becomes everyone's foe
They look older today those in their life's prime a decade ago
The praises of youth many do like to sing
And youth as is said can be a marvelous thing
But the Seasons go by and time ticks on fast
And the old one today was a young one of the past
Many of the boys and girls i grew up with are grandparents today
And some of them now in eternal rest lay
It is in the past the what used to be
We can only go back in time in memory
Some of those i grew up with are not of the living today
And time on my life keeps on ticking away.

It Is A Big World

It is a big World the World out there
And if somebody tells you that they have been to everywhere
Then you know he or she exaggerate and you they deceive
It is known that some people their own lies even believe
So many have seen far more Countries than me
Though every village, city and town in a lifetime one could not hope for to see
Despite the old saying it is a small World after all
This World we do live in is anything but small
Of the place i was born and raised in i now live far away
And the years have left me looking older and gray
But how big the World we live in is i have come to realize
The sheer vastness of it to awe only gives rise
It is a big World the World out there
And there is not or has never been one who has been to everywhere.

In Distance And Time

In distance and time the past to me nowhere near
But in fancy the male red breast robin i hear
Singing in the gray of the dawn before the sun in the sky appear
In a Claraghatlea grove in the Spring of the year
Old memories of what was do not fade away
Of when the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And the fields lush and green after recent Spring showers
Are looking quite resplendent in their Nature's flowers
Cattle out of wintering sheds on months of eating silage and hay
On nutritious young grass are gaining weight by the day
The scratchy song of the dipper echoes in the rill
That babbles to the river down the field by the hill
And though the past may be gone the good memories remain
When in fancy i walk in the old fields again.