That From Life We Receive

That from life we receive what from life we are due
In so many cases happens to be true
If to the law of the land for your crimes you do pay
Then Karma it will catch up with you one day
The saying what goes around comes around in it has truth
It applies to the people who are without ruth
Who harm others physically or financially and find pleasure in crime
If the law does not catch up with you then karma will in time
Those who harm others in any way for their future bad karma are planting the seed
What goes around comes around is quite truthful indeed
I am one of those who happens to believe
That in life we must give if we wish to receive
What applies to everyone applies to me and you
And this only does happen for to be true.

The Allow Bank High

The river known as Allow in flood waters of brown
Bank bank high through Kanturk an old Duhallow town
In late January a cold, wet and windy time of year
Though the calendar Spring with each day is drawing near
It is windy and cold around Kanturk today
The cattle in the farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
At least eight to nine weeks until the nesting birds sing
On leaf budding trees near the prime of the Spring
And the cattle on young grass gaining weight by the day
Far more nutritious for them than eating silage or hay
So many days and nights from the prime of the May
When the hawthorns will wear their blooms of white to gray
And the Allow bank high in flood waters of brown
Goes babbling on it's way through old Kanturk Town.

Not An Ordinary Fellow

Not an ordinary fellow would you not agree
He drink beer with his breakfast, lunch and dinner he never drinks tea
And at work break in mid morning referred to by some as brunch
He drinks something stronger than a shandy or punch
When drunk always merry he never looks for fight
He arrives home late from the pub every night
Without wife, partner or children of responsibility free
But few in the town are as happy as he
Is for he always does have a big smile on his face
Just a likeable bloke with a strong sense of place
In his mid twenties he lives on his own
As an ordinary fellow he will never be known
In the pub every night he joins in the cheer
The happy young man who enjoys drinking beer.

Only Winners

Only winners the masses do wish to recall
In sports as in life the winner takes all
And though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
For one for to win someone else has to lose
There are winners and losers in life every day
This is how it is for life is this way
For the winner the glory the money and praise
And winners their personal status do raise
The winners are grinners as some like to say
And for the winner there is always a loud hip hooray
There are winners in life and winners in sport
In the football stadium or the tennis court
For the loser disappointment for the winner the joy
A fact of life that i did learn as a boy.

Ballydaly's Last Blacksmith Farrier

When Brendan Murphy was in his physical prime of time one must go back a span
Ballydaly's last blacksmith farrier he was quite a man
He shod his last working horse in his forge in his brother Eddy's backyard
For his livelihood he is one who did work quite hard

Tall and lean and dark haired and physically quite strong
Ballydaly's last blacksmith farrier to a rare breed belong
The hooves of the last working horse, mule, jennet and donkey he did pare
Since the demise of the last working equines blacksmith farriers have become rare

With Denis 'The Rover' Riordan the blacksmith farrier of Millstreet's West End he learned his trade
From the hard work of blacksmith and farrier Brendan earned every pound he was paid
A quiet achiever and quiet in his way
Quiet waters run deep as the wise one does say

The nineteen sixties brought change to Ireland as it did Worldwide
And working animals became rare in the countryside
With the introduction of bigger and modern machinery blacksmith farriers became an endangered breed
And for engine mechanics there became a far greater need

In his working life he worked hard for his every pay
Ballydaly's last blacksmith farrier is in honorable retirement today
As a top class tradesman a name for himself he made
With Denis 'The Rover' Riordan the renowned Millstreet blacksmith farrier he learned his trade.

Of Nature Every Day

The more about Nature i have come to know
The more my wonder of her only does grow
Yet so little i know of her ways i have come to realize
But this in itself is not any surprise

Of Nature one does learn something new every day
We never stop learning as the wise one does say
In a lifetime that we learn so little is not a lie
And we never stop learning until the day we do die

I can only marvel at the natural beauty i do see
The beauty every day that is all around me
Of Nature the only real World super power
The one who can create a beautiful flower

The writers and the artists she does inspire
And of singing her praises i never could tire
Many of her wild-born creatures are close to extinction or becoming rare
With Mother Earth's creatures us humans have not learned how to share

Of Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
And though i am not one of the knowledgeable few
Of Nature every day i do learn something new.

I Am Of The Place

I am of the place where the waterways meet
In the old rushy fields towards the west of Millstreet
The home to the badger the rook and the silver backed crow
And the dark brown water bird dipper of breast white as snow

I may never again see Hibernia's shore
Or stand on the hill above high Claramore
On a nice Summer's day enjoying the scenery
Of the green countryside way beyond Knocknagree

It is only in fancy i nowadays meet an erstwhile friend
For perhaps i will never again walk on Millstreet's West End
Where i always did feel as one of their own
To many today there i would not be known

I am of the place where old Finnow does flow
On towards the Blackwater it babbles on slow
Through the flat countryside that in all Seasons is green
I only can visualize of Nature's beauty i have seen

I am of the place from here far away
Where above the rushy fields on nights in May
The territorial male snipe with his tail makes a drumming sound
Of the what used to be the good memories abound.

Happens For To Be True

Though some may not say very nice things of you
That their opinions of you is their business happens to be true
And as long as they speak of you in a truthful way
Suppose of you they are entitled for to have their say
Yet those only too willing others to criticize
Do not like criticism of themselves which is not a surprise
Suppose we dislike in others the flaws in ourselves we do see
At least anyhow this is how it seems to be
Yet from those who criticize us of ourselves we do learn more
Than those who praise us something you may have heard before
And though you may have many friends happens for to be so
You will not go through life without making a foe
And though some may say not very nice things of you
That their opinions of you is only their business happens for to be true.

The One Known As Time

True beauty by Nature can only be made
But time is the thing that does cause it to fade
Yes time that rusts iron gives rise to decay
All life forms of beauty with age fade away

The woman in her twenties lovely to behold
Will start showing her age as she does grow old
Though she may use anti aging creams and hair dyes to cloak her gray
Time on her beauty will take it's Toll anyway

Even the mighty athlete Usain Bolt
Who sprints down the track like a thoroughbred colt
The winner of many an Olympic Gold
Will not run faster as he does grow old

It is obvious that time has become the foe
Of the town beauty of three decades ago
Although for her years one might say she looks well
The passing of the Seasons on her looks does tell

The great trees of the forest the great athletes in their prime
Eventually will become victims of time
And of all of life forms from the great to the small
The one known as time will lay claim to them all.

Why Do You Ask Me

Though the legends of literature their legends do grow
Who is or is not a good writer i hardly would know
Since i am one who does not have a literary degree
Of writers and writing why do you ask me?
Yet even the literary experts on the worth of individual writers do differentiate
Who is average to one to another is great
Variety is the spice of life as the wise one does say
How boring we would be if we all thought in the same way
And though of the millions of writers few do make the grade
Every writer is needed in the great Wordsmith trade
Like all things in life in literature for one to win others have to lose
Though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
And since i am one who does not have a literary degree
Of writers and writing why do you ask me?

A January Day In The Moyne Shire

It is warm today over thirty degrees
And the cattle are sheltering in the shade of the trees
Out of the sun where it is a bit more cool
In the brown and bare Moyne Shire coastal countryside close to Warrnambool
With just a few clouds of gray in the blue and sunny sky
The weather for many weeks has been mostly warm and dry
For weeks El Nino the thirsty one has been around
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the dry ground
In drought conditions the farmers have to feed their cattle hay
And it looks like Global Warming is with us to stay
The lakes and water dams are drying out and bone dry every drain
The Moyne Shire could do with a few days of heavy rain
But no sign of rain in the clear sunny sky
And the Moyne Shire is looking so bare and so dry.

The Wednesday Whistlers

In Kathy Baulch's House in Yarpturk every Wednesday the Wednesday Whistlers do meet
With the best in Victoria south west as musicians they could compete
Musicians come to Yarpturk from many miles away
And so enjoyable to hear the old tunes they do play

Though every Yarpturk musician only play for enjoyment not for money or fame
It is people like they are that gives music such a good name
Of more like the Wednesday Whistlers the World is badly in need
For a World without music would be so much poorer indeed

For to hear the Wednesday Whistlers play music you do not need to pay
Yet their music is not inferior in any sort of a way
To the wealthy musicians who have fame on their side
The heroines and heroes to the musical masses Worldwide

Every Wednesday morning in Yarpturk at Kathy Baulch's house the Wednesday Whistlers do meet
Just for the love of music not with each other to compete
Music brings people together and this is such a good thing
And the praises of the Wednesday Whistlers one only can sing.

He Will Not Be Going Back

He will not be going back to the old country town
Where the creek from the foothills in waters of brown
Babbles towards the big river towards the sea far away
It flows on forever by night and by day
With twin year old daughters and an urban raised wife
It looks like he is in the big city for the rest of his life
In suburbia quite happy since he has settled down
Where there are far more job opportunities than in the small town
In his mid twenties and in his physical prime
One can say he is on the right side of time
He works as a steel fixer and earns good pay
And it looks like he is in suburbia to stay
Sturdy and fit looking with hair of light brown
The handsome young man from the far away town.

Yellow Tailed Black Cockatoos

The big dark brown parrots known to most as yellow tailed black cockatoos
Though some do refer to them as the weerloos
In small flocks distinctive from other parrots in every way
Birds i do see often though not every day
To crack hard hakea nuts they must have strong beaks indeed
And often seen on monterey pine trees shredding the pine cones for their tiny dark seed
High in a tree cavity two pale eggs the female bird does lay
But only one of the young survive to adulthood this is their natural way
In Nature quite often for the strong to thrive
The weak in many cases not destined to survive
Among the slower birds of flight of the sky
In small flocks they call out wee yu as they fly
Quite beautiful birds with ways of their own
In their range known to many and to many well known.

On This Australia Day

On this Australia Day of National pride
The sun shining bright on the brown countryside
And a humid warmth in the freshening breeze
That sough in the branches of the taller trees
Today is the day rural people are in town
Watching the parade on the street passing down
To the town park where the celebrations take place
Watched by many a nationality of many a race
Today is the day of the National brag
Many wave the flag of the Dreamtime and the National flag
But here in the brown countryside another quiet day
Blowing in the wind the sweet scent of hay
On a warm evening of twenty five degrees
From the sun and the wind the cattle shelter by the trees.

Many Materialistic People

Many materialistic people do lack in empathy
Beyond their own needs they have no wish to see
They say of the poor for being poor they only have themselves for to blame
That poverty ought not to be humanity's shame
Of the praises of money they only do sing
And they believe that the accumulation of material wealth happiness to them will bring
But they fail to realize that happiness only can dwell in a carefree mind
And is rarely known to the materialistic kind
That most materialistic people fail to realize
Money does not guarantee one happiness is not a surprise
Because you are materially wealthy does not mean happiness is your due
I only do say what happens for to be true
And many may well say that i am wrong
When i say to the carefree few happiness only belong.

We Learn Something New

We learn something new about life every day
As we never stop learning it does seem this way
And the more we learn of life the more we come to realize
That of it we know little is this a surprise?

They have no more to learn those who think they know it all
The more you know the less you know you know their kind never recall
Those who think they know it all of knowledge not in need
The mind not open to knowledge is a closed mind indeed

Though the praises of people of genius many may well sing
She or he not yet born who does know everything
And if your mind is not open to learning knowledge you cannot receive
We do learn as we live i have come to believe

Those who believe they know it all do believe their own lie
For you never stop learning until the day you do die
For we learn as we live does remain ever true
And this applies to everyone and that includes me and you.

Old Tom

In his balding head silver gray hair
The old bloke who sleeps in his wheelchair
In truth of him quite true to say
That he has known of a far better day

Though he never had children or wife
He led an adventurous life
From his home lived in cities elsewhere
And knew of life in the big World out there

The flame of love in him did burn
He loved and was loved in return
But the one he loved in her mid twenties died
As love goes luck not on his side

Eight years ago a car crash left him wheelchair bound
Yet he remains mentally sound
In his early eighties and not feeling physically well
Yet he has many stories to tell

Of things he has done and has seen
And of places he has lived in and been
And though to the end of his life's journey he must be drawing near
His memory remains crystal clear

In the town-park in the balmy Summer air
Old Tom asleep in his motorized wheelchair
In the cool shade of the cypress trees
On a pleasant evening of around twenty degrees.

On Dennis O' Sullivan

It is nice to see him honored in such a way
As he lived as a good person in truth one can say
In the Liscarroll Donkey Sanctuary a plaque to honor his name
Dennis O' Sullivan does deserve his own slice of fame

In Millstreet when i was a young schoolboy Dennis was in his prime
Though this is going back many years in time
He was a person that i did know
As one who did have the bright inner glow

Dennis he was not broad shouldered or tall
And he never played Hurling or Gaelic Football
But he was as nice a person as one could wish to meet
In the old Duhallow Town of Millstreet

Though out of Millstreet he lived most of his life span
I remember him as a friendly dapper man
One who loved life as i can recall
And all living creatures from the great to the small

The great gift of life from him may be gone
But in all who knew Dennis good memories of him do live on
And in the Liscarroll Donkey Sanctuary a plaque to honor his name
Dennis O' Sullivan does deserve his own slice of fame.

Yet It Is A Nice Day

White butterflies seemingly dancing in the breeze
And the silver billed magpies warbling on the sunlit trees
The warm air full of the buzzing of flies and nectar gathering bees
And the weather temperatures just over a pleasant twenty degrees
Wafting in the breeze the sweet aroma of hay
It is indeed quite a nice January day
The brown and dry paddocks are looking so dry
And no sign of rain clouds in the mostly blue sky
For the past few months El Nino the thirsty one has been around
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the ground
The lakes are drying out and bone dry every drain
This countryside could do with a few days of rain
Yet it is a nice day to be out and about
With the sun shining bright on this land of the south.

Lucky To Be Alive

Some children to adulthood do not survive
Those who reach three score and ten years are lucky to be alive
And to survive to beyond your eight decade you need great health and good luck on your side
So many years younger than they are have died
Old Joe in his eighties is still going strong
At the local pub he enjoys his beers and joins in the sing along
The best years of his life are in the long gone
A man who loves life who does want to live on
The praises of dead heroes many may sing
But the great gift of life is such a marvelous thing
It is a fact of life and fact never lie
That one day or night we are destined to die
A fresh summer breeze is blowing uphill from the bay
It is so good to be living on such a nice day.

The Best That You Can Be

You may never climb Everest or win Olympic Gold
And your life story in book form may never be told
And though your dreams of greatness for you may never become reality
You only can be the best that you can be

You may never become Worldwide famous and a known billionaire
Such people in any case do seem quite rare
The masses out there you may never impress
But there is more to life than ultimate success

Success can be relative as the wise one does say
And you are quite successful in your own way
You work very hard for your every take home pay
And perform a good deed sometimes two every day

You may never be one the masses celebrate
The President of the Country or the Premier of the State
Few dreams ever come true as most would agree
And you only can be the best that you can be.

If I Did Tell You Different

Some tell me since for it you never receive any pay
Is it not time that you thought of giving rhyming away
But they do not understand that it is not for fame or money that i pen rhyme
And on what i do love doing why should i call time
I have been penning rhyme since nineteen seventy three
It was my love of rhyme that made a rhymer of me
With rhyme words i am one who does love to play
And i add to my numbers of rhymes every day
From penning rhyme enjoyment and pleasure is my gain
And i hope as a rhymer that i will remain
Until the Life's Reaper comes reaping my way
To claim the life from me on some future night or day
Yes a rhymer i will be until the day i do die
If i did tell you different it would be a lie.

Only For Michael Cashman

I tell everybody that i hail from Millstreet
From the green countryside where the waterways meet
But from there i have been long gone and i live far away
And only for Michael Cashman there i would be forgotten today

Since he is the one who puts some of the stuff i do write
From time to time on the Millstreet web site
For this to him i feel grateful and it is true to say
That it is nice to be remembered in such a way

Though i have shed all of my nostalgic tears
And i have not been in Millstreet for twenty nine years
And Millstreet Town and Clara Hill i may never more see
Claraghatlea will always be first home-place to me

Where i grew to love Nature when i was a young boy
And to think i am remembered there today to me a source of joy
And though time on my life it is ticking on fast
On my flights of fancy i often visit the past

Since i left my first home-place where i was well known
A new generation into young adults have grown
And only for Michael Cashman in truth i can say
I would be of the forgotten of Millstreet today.

People With Big Egos

People with big egos around me everywhere
And so many more in the big World out there
Who think they are special in every way
Their sort i happen to meet every day

They rule the World which does seem sad to say
And respect to the poor their sort never do pay
It is so soul destroying an ego out of control
On the higher human feelings it does take it's toll

Every day people with big egos i meet
They feel so enamored in their own self conceit
An aura of self importance around them does glow
Of how it feels to be humble their sort would not know

On the leafy suburb of the big town
In their big cars driving up and down
Quite obviously showing off their material success
Yet sadly the impressionable they always impress

Mostly due to them many species of wildlife becoming rare
People with big egos for the Natural Environment does not have one thought of care
Their sort of people are seldom environmentally aware
The Natural Environment does suffer for every new millionaire

Every day driving in their big cars them i do see
People with big egos are everywhere around me
Yet one can only wonder why they feel it so necessary for to show off their pride
When so much natural beauty by them has been destroyed.

Nothing To Be Proud Of At All

Near perfect women are rare and wise men are few
One might say that this is not anything new
And people with big egos plentiful everywhere
There are billions of them in the big World out there
The huge increase in the human population to Nature's creatures has come at a huge cost
So many species of animals and birds to extinction have been lost
Due to land being developed for building when trees are cut away
In every town, village and city this is happening every day
So sad to think because of us so many species of wildlife are becoming rare
With other life forms most humans their space are not willing to share
When trees are removed wild creatures lose their territory
Extinction nearer to another species with the removal of every tree
Our egos may be big but our achievements are small
In fact we have nothing to be proud of at all.

Tony Abbott's Team Australia

If you want to become a member of Tony Abbott's Team Australia go to the local pubs
And become a paid up member of the local cricket and football clubs
And heap praise on the ex Prime Minister for his stand against refugees
And unionized workers who pay their union fees

And make sure you wave your Australian flag on Australia Day
Show you feel proud of your country as Tony would say
Your love of Country you ought not to hide
For to be an Aussie should be a source of pride

For to put your own Nationality ahead of others in thinking not small
Like Tony when talking of a fair go never mean a fair go for all
To sing Advance Australia Fair with the sports crowd is such a beautiful thing
Tears to the eyes such occasions known to bring

And on Anzac Day do march in the parade
To remember the far off war where our young Aussie heroes were made
But never admit that we celebrate a glorious defeat
That we were the losers by the Turks we were beat

If you want to become a member of Tony Abbott's Nationalistic team
Of a Land free of refugees you must dare to dream
And on your flag post in your front garden fly your National flag
To show your pride in your Country is not an egotistical brag

And like Tony you can support the turning back of asylum seeker boats and on saying so try to pretend
That you care about the lives of asylum seekers and to them you are a friend
And when you talk of a fair go it does not mean a fair go for all
For to be a member of Team Australia you have to think small.

Nostalgia In Time Ebbs

Nostalgia in time ebbs does seem true to say
From my first home place i have been so long away
But in Claraghatlea groves in the prime of the spring
The wild birds of Nature without me do sing

Yet good memories remain to me as a source of joy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And though i have shed the last of my nostalgic tears
I still think of people i have not seen for years

And deceased people i knew in the flesh i will not see again
Only memories of what used to be does remain
In the cemeteries of Duhallow their last remains do lay
Though they are alive in my memory today

The old fields i loved to me would look the same
Some of them i remember had their own given name
The first home place in fancy i only now see
Time that does not wait for anybody does not wait for me

For as long as the gift of memory i will retain
In Fancy i can visit the past again
And for as long as i live the memories with me will stay
Of the people i knew and the places i loved far away.

A January Day West Of Millstreet Town

The river from Kippagh in storm waters of brown
Bank high in the old fields west of Millstreet Town
From recent heavy rain on this January day
And stealing down Clara the rain fogs of gray
The cold gales are howling in bare deciduous trees
And the weather temperatures down to minus three degrees
Brown rain water flowing bank high in every stream and drain
And in the weather forecast more gales, sleet and rain
So many cold, wild and wet days and nights until the prime of the spring
When the birds of Nature will build nests, mate and sing
The month of the long, cold, wild and wet night and the short and bleak day
And of cattle in farm yard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
And the river from Kippagh in storm waters of brown
Bank high in the old fields west of Millstreet Town.

Patriotism, Nationalism And Religion

Patriotism, Nationalism and Religion so much we hear of them and read
To war terrorism, death and suffering they often do lead
From them far too often something ugly does begin
Without them the Human World would be better to live in
Singing the praises of the colors of the National flag
In reality can be quite a dangerous brag
Their kind for love of difference never plant the seed
And of more of their sort the Human World is not in need
Patriotism, Nationalism and Religion can be known to divide
The feeling of superiority is such a dangerous sort of pride
Any of these three can lead to serious violence when taken to the extreme
Though when kept in moderation not too bad it does seem
Of Patriotism and Nationalism and Religion there can be little doubt
That the Human World of them could well do without.

The Story Of Life

Only a tiny minority have their stories in book form published to sell
But we all have our stories of life for to tell
From the billionaire to the never do well
And the people who know of life in Earthly Hell

Some like to tell of their travels in places afar
Whilst others of the happenings in their local bar
No story too great or no story too small
The story of life does belong to us all

I know of this woman an aging ex nun
A grandmother in her seventies a person of fun
widowed remarried and divorced she may be getting old
But her amazing life story deserves to be told

Truth can seem stranger than fiction as some like to say
In her case this surely is true anyway
Courage of her none ought to deny
Her philosophy of life most things are worth a try

So many amazing people that i have known
The seeds of a great life story by them have been sown
From people like them life insights one does gain
Yet their stories in book form unpublished sadly does remain

Though the stories of a tiny minority in book form published to sell
So many of their lives have amazing stories to tell
The glory as always is reserved for the few
And this one can say is not anything new.

Margaret Tynan Rahilly

Never in the flesh for to see her again
And only good memories of her do remain
She passed from life slowly in her twilight years
Her family and friends for her have shed all of their tears
In her early seventies the farewell bell for her tolled
Not well for a few years though she had not been old
At her gift of life she was known to rejoice
She was one who was blessed with a sweet singing voice
She was one who never seemed burdened by care
People like she was to say the least rare
About her she had such an amiable way
Of her a very good person in truth one can say
Death did take her slowly she died with some pain
Why good people suffer seems hard to explain.

The Pride Of Dooneen

Her shoulder length dark hair was tossing in the breeze
The birds they were singing on the leafy trees
And bluebells were blooming on the ditch of the bohreen
When last i did see her the Pride of Dooneen

Wearing a knee length blue dress she was only nineteen
In her Town-land of Millstreet the finest to be seen
The yearn of the wander did lure her away
From the place where she first looked on the lamp of day

A long time ago for i was a boy then
And green to life's ways for i was only ten
She did look so beautiful free of conceit and guile
And i was enamoured by her beautiful smile

From Dooneen in view of high Claramore
The lure of the wander took her to a distant shore
Far from her home by the Town of Millstreet
From the green countryside where the rivers do meet

In Dooneen one of those not destined to stay
I wonder is she of the living today
Or in some distant cemetery does her remains lay
One only can wonder as the wise one does say?

Time Does Not Wait

Time does not wait for anyone it does not wait for me
And few of years do live for a century
And that the longer you live the sooner you will die
Is based on fact and fact never lie
Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And of the past only memories left to live on
Make the most of the now is the best one can do
Time that does not wait for me will not wait for you
The past it has gone and time ticking away
We can only live in the now make the most of today
Some people do worry without needing to at all
When their biggest worry to the worries of another seem small
Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And we are growing older and time keeps ticking on.

Yambuk

As a place of some beauty it's claim to renown
Yambuk in Victoria a small country coastal town
Between Warrnambool and Portland with a charm of it's own
As a gem of the Moyne Shire it is widely known
Where the Yambuk River near the end of it's journey to the Pacific crawls slow
It has a natural beauty that on one does grow
One might say a fisher and bird watcher's delight
Where the river meets the sea quite a beautiful sight
The home of a very famous water slide
In the Moyne Shire near the Codrington wind farm countryside
On Yambuk lake many species of waterbirds to see
Yambuk a place of great beauty where the land meets the sea.

Those With Love In Them

Those with love in them have the inner glow
And they are always nice people to know
Since they are usually compassionate and kind
They have been blessed with great gifts of the mind
Those who have love in them have love to give
Near the higher self their being does live
To help other people they go out of their way
Without ever expecting the reward of monetary pay
Those with love in them are good people indeed
And of more of their kind the Human World is in need
Of their sort i feel lucky to know a few
For to say they are not plentiful is not saying anything that is new
For to help those in need of helping they go out of their way
And that the World is better for them living in it is true to say.

Sean Radley Of Millstreet

Sean Radley of Millstreet is in the Irish Broadcasting Hall Of Fame
Such a humble man for one of a great name
For at least four decades the Voice of Millstreet
Yet none could ever accuse him of conceit

Though one very famous beyond Millstreet Town
Sean Radley never gets carried away with his renown
One who has done so much for his Hometown of Millstreet
Yet as amiable a person as one could wish for to meet

So nice to see him recognized for his talents on such a way
He is one of others who never has unkind things to say
In his words he never puts down anyone
His late mother and father in him raised a good son

That he has received such an award does not come as a surprise
Since for their talents others in a public way he does recognize
And though beyond the Town in view of Clara he is Worldwide known
Sean Radley will always be of Millstreet's own

Those who are kind to others good things in return do receive
On such a life philosophy one has to believe
Sean Radley to his higher self ever true
And this latest award is only his due.

The Love Of Your Life

For every man and woman there's the love of their life
Though many of them never become lovers or man and wife
The memories of such love until death does remain
In times of nostalgia for to visit again
In your memory the love of your life does remain ever young
Of such loves the poets and song writers have written and the singers have sung
The love of your life you do never forget
Though memories of love often give rise to regret
The love that does live on in your memory
That for one reason or other was not meant to be
It lives in your memory through your twilight years
The love of your life that often gives rise to tears
And everyone does have the love of their life
Though they may never have been lovers or become man and wife.

For Many Every Day

In the Human World where billions of people for success do compete
For many every day some new challenge to meet
Where most of the ruthless and self serving seem to materially thrive
And the meek and the humble struggle to survive
And where somebody's loss becomes someone else's gain
Why this should be is way beyond me to explain
The working poor, the homeless and the refugees
Poverty does come at varying degrees
In a fair Human World this never would be
So much indeed for human equality
For many life is a battle it does seem this way
And the struggle for survival goes on every day
And no millionaires where the homeless do meet
On the shabby sidewalks of Poverty Street.

My Journey Far South

My journey far south did not lead me to wealth and renown
And though i may never again see the lights of Millstreet Town
Or Claraghatlea where i first saw the light of day
In distance from there i do live far away

In the Moyne Shire today it is thirty degrees
With a humid warmth in the coastal breeze
That blow across the bare brown paddocks from the ocean shore
Far warmer here than it is now in high Claramore

Where from the overnight frost the fields are silver gray
Some three and a half month from the first day of May
Storm water flowing bank high in every field drain
Where i do live now we could do with some rain

Though i may never again walk the sidewalks of Millstreet
In fancy my erstwhile friends i often meet
And though them in the flesh i may not see again
As young in my memory they do remain

Though the lights of Millstreet Town i may never more see
My past in Duhallow is living in me
And where to may today mine would be a stranger's face
Old Claraghatlea remains to me as a favorite place.

A Great Person Indeed

In her late seventies or early eighties maybe
She is one i know but often does not see
Her shoulder length wavy hair is silver gray
She must have been a rare beauty on her day
A widowed grandmother who lives on her own
For helping those in need of helping she is one who is known
So kind and compassionate a great person indeed
One can say she is one of quite a rare breed
Down to earth and humble and free of guile
She greets everyone with a beautiful smile
Sometimes i see her walking in the park by the street
And i always do find her as a joy for to meet
One of the compassionate people on her side of the town
Always helping the homeless and the financially down.

Why This Should Be

There are many talented people in every village and city and town
Who live and will die as strangers to renown
Since those who get rewarded and recognized for their talents are only of the few
On this i am not saying anything that is new

I know of some talented people who are not well known
Though with the best at what they are good at they could hold their own
But the masses them will never celebrate
And they will never be wealthy and considered as famous and great

The talented wealthy and famous become known far and wide
Who should be recognized and rewarded for their talents the masses decide
And some quite talented people as unheralded does remain
Why this happens to be beyond me to explain

There are some talented people who for themselves never make a name
Who will never grow wealthy and will die as strangers to fame
Not admired for their talents which seems puzzling to me
And i only do wonder why this should be.

A January Day

It is warm today over thirty degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze
That blow across the bare dry paddocks from the nearby bay
In the clear blue sky just a few clouds of gray
For the past few months El Nino the thirsty one has been around
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the ground
The farmers are feeding their cattle on hay
They do hope for rain but rain seems far away
From the drought ravaged countryside that is looking so brown
For many kilometers on either side of the old country town
Every drain is bone dry and nothing seems to grow
And the creek to the river in a trickle does flow
And not a rain cloud in the clear sunny sky
Even for January the weather is so warm and dry.

Your Love Of Place

For some it is not a love of Country but a love of Place
Where theirs is a loved and a familiar face
Without any desire for to live elsewhere
In some city or town in the big World out there

They are happy to live where they are loved and known
With the honorary title of one of our own
In their hometown known to every local that they do meet
And greeted by name by many when walking the street

The praises of Country many well may sing
But a sense of belonging is a beautiful thing
Where of the community you do feel part
And never feel the desire to move to elsewhere in life to make a new start

Of the bug of wander you are one who is free
The World's great Cities you have no wish to see
Your love of Place transcends your love of Homeland
Those with a sense of Place this would understand

You are one of those people who could never live far
From your local grocery store or your local bar
Where yours to all locals is a known and loved face
You love your Country far less than you love your Home-place.

Death Makes Them The Same

You will not find any money where dead people lay
You cannot take it with you as the wise one does say
In the dark grave in the ground far from the noisy crowd
There are not any cash pockets in the burial shroud
And since a meeting with the Reaper of lives one does not survive
Try to enjoy your money whilst you are alive
To anyone it is a useless renown
The worthless honor of the wealthiest deceased person of the town
Do enjoy your money for as long as you can
This applies to every woman and to every man
For your material wealth is of no use to you when the life from your body has gone
And time does not wait it ticks on and on
Those who die with a billion in money or without a penny to their name
In the cemetery are equal death makes them the same.

In Mushera Today

From the overnight frost the high fields looking gray
You will not get a suntan in Mushera today
The air is so cold from the overnight freeze
And the weather temperature down below zero degrees

In January it is cold and wet in the high country above Millstreet
The weather forecast for the day storms, heavy rain and sleet
The swollen Aubane River in flood waters of brown
Bank high from the high country goes roaring down

Through the fields of Aubane to the Blackwater bound
Swollen by streams and drains from the higher ground
And many a cold, wet and windy night and day
Before the hawthorns will wear their white blooms of the May

The grass in the bare fields in January never grow
And the weather is quite cold enough for to snow
From the overnight frost the high fields looking gray
You will not get a suntan in Mushera today.

Your Past Goes Along

As long as your gift of memory remains healthy and strong
Wherever you go to your past goes along
And for as long as you live with you it will stay
It will be with you until your last night and day
The healthy mind never does seem to forget
The one who does wrong to others and them never live to regret
For his or her future bad Karma they have sown the seed
One might say quite a soulless person indeed
As long as your gift of memory you retain
The past and it's memories with you will remain
It is there to remind us of what used to be
Though we would rather forget every bad memory
You cannot hide from your past as the wise one does say
For as long as you live with you it will stay
We may live in the now and yesterday has gone
But the past in it's memories in us does live on.

It Is Only The Fear

With each passing day my life's journey's end near
But like most it is only the fear of dying that i do fear
But fear does not keep the life's Reaper away
And the young and the old are dying every day
And the Reaper who will claim the life from me will claim the life from you
And about it there is nothing that we can do
And the old saying the longer you live the sooner you will die
Is simply a fact and fact never lie
Most people like me do live in fear of death
And will fight for life until their last breath
But death on life always has the final say
And for all of us there is a last night and day
Like all other life forms the great to the small
Death for us humans is for us all.

Ross A

Among the south western sculptors one to the fore
Ross A in his opinions is one hard to ignore
He says the World's greatest thinkers are often proven wrong
On the side of theory he is one who belong
He says the praises of one they perceive to be great the impressionable masses do sing
But greatness as such is just a relative thing
The one who is great to many to some is ordinary
With his way of thinking i am one who agree
Quite an intelligent character the likable Ross A
He is one i often meet though not every day
One who always does know of what he is talking about
Of his great gift of knowledge there can be little doubt
Perhaps the finest sculptor in all of the South west
At debating he does hold his own with the best.

By The Mountain Of Clara Today

The cattle in the farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
It is cold and wet by the Mountain of Clara today
The weather temperature a chilly minus three degrees
And the cold wind is soughing in bare deciduous trees

In the old rushy fields west of Millstreet Town
Every waterway bank high in flood waters of brown
Where grass growth is dormant not any wildflowers
And nothing does grow in cold January showers

Searching for food in every back yard
For the birds of Nature times are hungry and hard
In the gray and bleak twilight on the field by the hill
The cry of the hungry fox sounding so shrill

In Ireland in January the weather far from fine
In the overcast sky the sun seldom does shine
At least twelve weeks from the prime of the Spring
When the nest building songbirds will whistle and sing

Storm water overflowing in every roadside drain
And howling in the bare trees the wild gales of rain
And the rain drizzling down from the low clouds of gray
It is cold and wet by the Mountain of Clara today.

Mary McCarthy

I knew her as Mary Twohig before she became Donal McCarthy's wife
And so sad for to learn that she has lost her gift of life
She went to live in Kilcummin near Killarney many miles from Annagloor near Millstreet
And her i was never again for to meet

A grandmother she died in her early to mid sixties which does not seem old
In her young years with dark hair one lovely to behold
A down to earth person untainted by guile
She always did have such a beautiful smile

Good memories of the past are all that one does have to retain
Her great loss to Annagloor became Kilcummin's gain
She was in her prime some four decades ago
But time that rusts iron becomes everyone's foe

A beautiful person i had not seen for years
Her passing from life would not have gone without tears
Her family and friends left to grieve for her loss
In life as is said there is many a cross

The great gift of life from her may have gone
But in all who knew Mary good memories of her will live on
She lived as a good person kind in her own way
The Human World in need of many more like her in truth one can say

The cold wind of January in Millstreet blow down from Cashman's Hill
Above St Mary's Cemetery where the heart of Mary McCarthy is forever still
And though in the flesh never for to be seen again
In all who knew her good memories of her will remain.

It Is Said

It is said you receive from life what is only your due
Though on some cases this is not entirely true
But what goes around comes around as a truism remain
And for us there is some price to pay for our ill gotten gain
What we put into life in return we receive
Though many on such thinking refuse to believe
To some to steal from poor people does seem quite okay
Without seeming to realize that maybe one day
That to this one known as Karma for their sins they must pay
What goes around comes around life works in this way
Though little about life i can claim to know
I feel for yourself every day good or bad Karma you do sow
Yet it is true of life that we learn as we live
And for to receive we must know how to give.

The Town's Wealthiest Man

His money of no use to him where he is today
The town's wealthiest man in the cemetery lay
Where the deceased are everybody is the same
Life cannot be bought back by money and fame
He died in his late forties he was not an old man
Far poorer have been granted a far longer life span
Aggressive stomach cancer he did not survive
His money did fail for to keep him alive
His wife and their son and daughter in their twenties will be financially okay
For as long as they live they will never know of a poor day
And though him they do miss and for him they do grieve
That time is the grief healer is not hard to believe
The town's wealthiest man in eternal rest lay
His lot will be my lot on some future day.

In The Moyne Shire Today

The dry sun-burnt paddocks the color of hay
It is forty degrees in the Moyne Shire today
The air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
And a warm wind is soughing in the bushes and trees
Though compared to many parts of Australia in the Moyne Shire in January near Warrnambool
The Summer weather is often on the side of cool
But today it is quite extreme in sunshine and humid breeze
With the cattle sheltering from the sun in the shade of the trees
The up and down weather temperatures to say the least strange
But then one can expect this in a time of Climate Change
The drains dry of water El Nino is around
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the dry ground
And in the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
It is forty degrees in the Moyne Shire today.

An Off Day

Whether you do it for pleasure or do it for pay
Whatever you enjoy doing you do have an off day
When you are out of sorts and you feel a bit down
Everyone has a down day even the happiest one in the town
It is part of being human at least it seems so
That the moods to our lives do come and do go
Those who know of the down times the good thoroughly enjoy
This is something i learned from a wise person as a young boy
Every day so many thoughts pass through the human brain
The moods of the mind way beyond me to explain
Laugh and the World laughs with you as the saying goes
Everyone does have their good and their bad days one would have to suppose
So few do seem happy all of the time
And for to have an off day is never a crime.

Where Silence Does Pay

Just because their autocratic government do not like what they have to say
There are decent men and women in prison today
Where free speech it is muzzled no respect for human life
Murder, imprisonment and oppression in such Countries are rife

Where silence is your best chance of staying out of jail
To serve the oppressors rule by fear never fail
To keep your silence it may serve you well
It may keep you out of a dark prison cell

In some Countries where Regimes rule by fear
The fear of death, injury or imprisonment to you is ever near
Where those with the courage to speak out do seal their own fate
This is what always happen when criminals run the State

To speak against the Regime in some countries the price huge to pay
Where silence in public for you seems a much safer way
For to avoid death or persecution or serving prison time
Though to speak out against oppression should never be a crime.

The Bigger World Out There Was Calling

The bigger World out there was calling and time was becoming my foe
When i said my goodbyes to Duhallow going back twenty nine years ago
The rivers and streams from the high ground bank high in the old fields did flow
On that chilly day in December the Boggeraghs wore their hats of snow

The lust of the wander was in me though i was then beyond my prime
And now at the doorway of seventy i have lived the most of my lifetime
And unlike the cuckoo or swallow i did not come home for the Spring
Without me in the groves of Duhallow the songbirds of Nature do sing

In the place where i was known to many to most i would be a stranger today
I have not been there for twenty nine years and from there i live so far away
Though good memories today remain with me of the fields in their wildflowers of May
And the cattle gaining weight on young grass far more nutritious than silage and hay

The brown flood waters bank high were flowing in the waterways of the brown trout
When of the fields of the rook and the badger of old Duhallow i went south
I followed the lure of the wander from where many knew me as one of their own
Where to most today i would be a stranger and only to a few people known.

The Grumpy Old Man

Close to if not eighty of time quite a span
I often see him walking in the park the grumpy old man
I said hello to him a few times but me he choose to ignore
He is one i will not be greeting anymore
Many times a grandfather ten years ago divorced by his wife
With him she did not know of an easy life
Than her moody ex husband she is far more sweet
A far nicer man than he is she was lucky to meet
Who wants to be with one who is moody all of the time
Who treats every smile as if it were a crime
He will never be my friend nor is he my foe
When we meet between us only silence and never a hello
Alone in his old age without a partner or wife
He is one who does not need friends in his life.

Lake Pertobe

On the treed islands a safe place for shy species of crakes and rails to hide
Where swamp-hens and moorhens and coots search for food on the lake-side
Where herons and egrets and spoonbills are quite often seen
In the lake surrounded by parkland that at most times look green
On Pertobe Lake pelican, black swan and species of wild duck one often does see
In a safe haven for waterbirds of the wild sort of hunters to live free
Where little grebe dive for food birds of human kind shy
And on the banks the cormorants after fishing stretch their wings out to dry
Lake Pertobe near the old city of Warrnambool
A nice place to visit on a Summer evening not too warm or cool
Where the wild-born of Nature in safety reside
Loved by those who love Nature from places far and wide
Park Lake Pertobe to the City of Warrnambool near
A nice place to visit at anytime of year.

Every-time Out Of Kindness

Every time out of kindness you perform a good deed
For your future good Karma you are planting a seed
In life as is said one must give to receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe
Those willing to come to the aid of the mentally and financially down
Are never the heroines or the heroes of the town
But they are special people and a very rare breed
As they have kindness and compassion two greats gifts indeed
The selfish and greedy of material wealth crave for more
And the poor of the town they do choose to ignore
For those doing it tough they cannot feel sympathy
They live without kindness and compassion as well as empathy
But the people who to help those in need of helping do go out of their way
Will be rewarded for their good deeds one day.

Pride Is A Thing

The words of the wise remain ours to recall
Pride is a thing that comes before a fall
A thing to the ego 'til death that is tied
This feeling that people refer to as pride

Of their every achievement and prize they have won
The mother and father feel proud of their daughter and son
In public they are all too willing to tell
Of how their son and daughter of late have done well

But the parents whose offspring is in jail serving time
Even though it may not be for a serious crime
Since this is a thing that is not worthy of a boast
To their incarcerated son and daughter they will not drink a toast

Pride is a pump the ego for to inflate
Losers the impressionable masses celebrate
In pride there is never any humility
This is how it is and how it always will be

Since it is a thing that is born of success
Pride does not live at a poor person's postal address
To the well inflated ego it seems to be tied
This feeling that is referred to as pride.

A Passing Acquaintance

He must know a lot about literature since he has a literary degree
The balding gray haired Uni professor in his fifties that in the park i sometimes see
Walking hand in hand with his younger partner or wife a beautiful blond in her late twenties or early thirties maybe
They always say good morning or good day they seem like nice people to me
I never spoke to them at length we may not have much in common to share
They are into classical music of that much of them i am aware
They go to big operas in the city tickets to such shows i could not afford
In any case what to them is enjoyable i know that of i would grow bored
They have a primary school going son and daughter and they live in the wealthy side of town
Though they are not of the snobbish people who on the have not do choose to look down
But i will only be an acquaintance to them we see life in a different way
One they only do know in passing that they do not see every day
We are just a passing acquaintance and perhaps this is how it will stay
We all live in our own social circles it is each to their own as they say.

Since I Left Claraghatlea

Since i left Claraghatlea just west of Millstreet Town
Many highways and byways i have been up and down
I have lived in a few places that were more brown than green
And some amazing wildlife in my travels i have seen

Yet on my flights of fancy i return to Millstreet
To the old rushy fields where the rivers do meet
And above Matty Owens bog in the prime of the May
The curlew is piping in the gloaming of the day

And above the rushy fields as darkness cloaks the ground
The male snipe in his courtship display is flying around
As with his tail feathers he makes a drumming sound
Of my younger years the good memories abound

But like many in my first home i did not choose for to stay
And from Duhallow i have been many Seasons away
And the years have left me looking older and balder and gray
In Millstreet i would be a stranger to many today

Since i left Claraghatlea for to venture elsewhere
I have seen a small bit of the big World out there
And sometimes on my flights of fancy i hear the soft lowing of a cow
On a Summer twilight by the River Finnow.

In Life

In life i have made a few friends and i have made a few foes
The same goes for many one would have to suppose
only a saint could go through life without making one enemy
At least anyway this is how it seems to me
Human relationships can be quite complex why otherwise pretend
Your enemy today may be your future friend
Or vice versa it well may be so
That your best friend today may be your future foe
The words of the wise person i do recall
You may be loved by many but you will not be loved by all
There will always be some with unkind things of you to say
That you cannot win them all it does seem this way
Human relationships are complex why otherwise pretend
Your enemy today may be your future friend.

The Rill From Claramore

Babbling in the fields of Claraghatlea the Rill from Claramore
At the beginning of it's journey to the far Atlantic shore
By hedgerows and by ditches it babbles night and day
On towards the bigger waterways it winds it downhill way
Among it's distinctive babble on evenings in the Spring
The thrush sized waterbird of snow white breast the dark brown dipper sing
Beneath the bank in her hidden nest his partner on her eggs does lay
When the hawthorns are cloaked in their snow white blooms in the prime of the May
How old are the waterways would anybody know
Long before the birth of the first human being to the oceans they did flow
Long before the names of the Town-lands Claramore and Claraghatlea as they are known by today
The clear rill from the high Country downhill babbled it's way
To join the bigger waterways to the far Atlantic shore
It babbles on through Claraghatlea the Rill from Claramore.

Somebody's Loss

It is a fact of human existence that does remain
That somebody's loss becomes somebody's gain
This is something that does seem too complex for me
Though i often do wonder why this should be
It seems wrong that the majority of the wealth is owned by the minority
In a Human World where many do live in extreme poverty
Every day the gap between the wealthy and poor is growing ever wide
There are billions without a God of Prosperity on their side
Even in so called wealthy Nations there are many sleeping rough
From the day they were born people who have known it tough
But few things are fair in the Human World it does seem
Where poverty and wealth have reached an extreme
And sadly as a fact of human existence it does remain
That somebody's loss becomes somebody's gain.

The Black Flag

In the Land of the white sand of very few trees
On a flag post the flag of death is blowing in the breeze
A symbol of oppression and suffering and murder and tears
Good stories of ISIS one never read of or hear

The army of criminals are so very cruel
By death and oppression they live and by terror they rule
Where they are not a destination for those in need of a holiday
Anyone with different ideas of life from them from where they live stay away

Their ideas of religion death to everyone different is hatred in the extreme
Yet they do not represent their God it does seem
But their reign of terror will eventually come to an end
Since every day they make thousands of enemies to make a friend

Because of them and their ideologies many good people have died
The white sands of the desert their foul crimes do hide
But what goes around comes around as the wise one does say
And to Karma for their crimes they eventually must pay.

To Follow A Dream

Though we are like the Autumn leaves on the fast flowing stream
We all need in our lives for to follow a dream
A dream that many may never realize
For to keep despair at bay and hope on the rise
Yes we all need a dream in life to pursue
Though for many their dream may never come true
Something to cling to as hope seems to fade
It is out of dreams that history has been made
Even in the poorest area of the town
People have their dreams of wealth and renown
Those without a dream do fade to despair
Like fish out of water that struggle for air
We are like the deciduous leaves of the Fall
That flow in the waterway obeying Nature's call.

In My Many Walks

In my many walks i do see
Nature's beauty that is all around me
I have loved her since i was a boy
And learning of her ways to this day i enjoy
That her secrets are many is not new
And her wonders are not in the few
Words for to describe her i do not have to say
But that we learn from her something new every day
And though my wonder of her only does grow
Of her ways little i can claim to know
The Nature artists she never ceases to inspire
And the environmental writers of singing her praises never do tire
I first loved her as a boy far away
A love that will last 'til my life's final day.

Doctor's Mistake

They are in a sleep from where they will never wake
In every cemetery every doctor's mistake
Death due to human error in some ways a criminal offense
But to say that there are far worse crimes only makes for common sense
The earth of the cemeteries human error does hide
From doctors mistakes many people have died
They would have lived longer but for a slip of the surgeon's knife
That robbed them too early of their gift of life
And that the great gift of life is our greatest gift happens for to be true
To die a natural death should be everyone's due
Though Nature lives forever is not a lie
Us humans like all other life forms are born to die
And unfortunately some do die of a doctor's mistake
They are in the sleep from which none ever does wake.

God Is For

God is for everyone with good deeds to their name
But never for those who commit acts of shame
Who plunder, persecute, maim, rape or kill
Or impose on others by foul means their will
God is for those who go out of their way
To help those in need of helping every day
Not for those who out of a sense of greed
Steal from the people of money in need
God does not live out there God lives within
Some so called religious people in their ways are not free of sin
If you steal from the poor and laugh at the down-trod
You are not one who is serving your god
Atheist, agnostic or religious if you stand for good
God is for you though by some this not understood.

Feel Happy

Feel happy for to wake from your sleep every day
For life it is brief and time does tick away
For many today it will be their last sundown
Death comes to the wealthy and poor of the town
We age every day beyond our physical prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
The bell you will not hear is your farewell bell
For all of us from life a final farewell
The Reaper of lives will visit you as well as me
So feel happy for every day you live to see
That you are a poor person happens to be true
But remember there is always one worse off than you
We are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
And the life's journey for everyone comes to an end.

I Remember Her

I remember her for her beautiful smile
And her down to earth ways free of conceit and guile
I often saw her in the park or walking on the street
And sad to think her i will never more meet
A eulogy was not read at her graveside today
And all is quiet now where her last remains lay
One who did not have children or to any man was not a wife
Quite moral in her ways one who led a chaste life
With shoulder length wavy hair of silver gray
She must have been a rare beauty on her younger day
She looked rather well for one of eighty three
But of a massive heart attack she died suddenly
Sad to think in the flesh never to be seen again
Though fond memories of her 'til death i will retain.

I Am As I Was

I am as i was many decades ago
And i remain today as my own greatest foe
And a fringe dweller by choice suppose i will remain
What we put into life always becomes our gain
Some say to me for doing it you never receive any pay
So how come you do not give penning of rhyme away
To say i am addicted to it they would not understand
I have been penning rhymes long before i left Ireland
I do never refer to myself as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
But my addictive nature i cannot give away
And i feel compelled for to write rhymes every day
And suppose i will be doing it 'til the day i do die
If i said otherwise this would be a lie.

I Do Not Have The Right

I do not have the right to be anyone's judge
And it would not be healthy for me for to harbor a grudge
Against anybody i just wish to live and let live
And the judgments of others i wish to forgive
On some of my thinking i may be quite small
But i too have my human feelings so too do we all
And though i have traveled a bit and walked on many a street
The near perfect human being i have yet for to meet
As a human being you can only live the best you can be
This applies to everyone and everyone includes me
For our future good Karma we can plant the seed
By helping someone of our helping in need
I do not have the right to be anyone's judge
And it would not be healthy for me to harbor a grudge.

A Greenfinch Is Singing

The voice of a bird his kind in the past i have known
A little green creature with ways of his own
With yellow tips on wings his kind sing a wheezy song
From once heard you know the bird to whom the voice belong

A bird of my younger years familiar to me
A green-finch is singing on a sunlit tree
Above where the traffic does pass up and down
On a January morning in old Koroit Town

Years ago as a boy in Duhallow far away
Above the leafy groves i often see his kind in a butterfly like courtship display
When the fields were resplendent in their Summer flowers
In the greenness of June after thundery showers

Of some of Nature's ways i was beginning to know
And my wonder of her ways only seems to grow
And of Nature i learn something new every day
We never stop learning as the wise one does say

The song of a green-finch takes me back to when i was a boy
Good memories are ours a lifetime to enjoy
On a sunlit tree in Old Koroit Town
Above where the traffic does pass up and down.

Live For As Long As You Can Live

We are mostly of water by scientists we are told
And few of us live to nine decades old
And fewer still live to a century
Time catches up on everyone eventually
Seventy years on average the human lifetime span
A few years more for a woman supposedly than it is for a man
Of time it would seem that this is not a long span
We physically fail quite fast past our youthful elan
We are born to die why otherwise pretend
No matter what you achieve your life's journey for you must end
Many supposedly indispensable in cemeteries do lay
And without them life does go on today
Live for as long as you can live of years hopefully beyond the four score
Since you will be one of the dead forever more.

To Me It Is Quite True

Though the law may not catch up with you Karma will one day
For harming other people there is some price to pay
What goes around does come around does remain ever true
For your wrongs you pay in some sort of a way since this becomes your due
Live and let live as true to life as ever does remain
You hurt somebody in some way then hurt from it you will gain
The law may not prove a case on you and you may not serve time in jail
But Karma will catch up on you and this goes without fail
From the bad seed you sow in life only bad you do receive
This is a law of Karma and on Karma i believe
You may well have outfoxed the law and think you are in the clear
But Karma will catch up with you though Karma you do not fear
The way we do treat others in life becomes our due
Though some may not agree with this for me it is quite true.

A Marvel Of Nature

A house sparrow's egg a tiny thing scarce larger than bean size
In Nature suppose one can say anything should not surprise
Pale of tiny brown spots to wonder it does give rise
That a tiny nestling can be born from it seems hard to realize

House sparrows build an untidy nest of feathers in a ball of hay
In bushy tree, shed rafters or under house eaves the female bird does lay
Four to six eggs at breeding time from buildings never far away
The nestlings in their straggly nest do chirp all through the day

Of all of the species of birds in every back yard perhaps the best known
The cheeky chirpers house sparrows do have ways of their own
The male with blue gray nape and back, wings and tail of mottled brown
The female of a duller gray birds at home in countryside or town

As well known birds as they are not many one could name
To be among the World's greatest chirpers their claim to avian fame
Whilst out walking the other day a marvel of Nature i found
A tiny pale brown spotted house sparrow's egg by a hedge on the ground.

Dan And Kate

Time that rusts iron is telling on Dan
And in his mind he has become a strange man
He does not like socializing likes his own company
Yet he is as harmless as the word as the word can be
So very different to his aging wife Kate
She is one who likes to party 'til late
Different to her husband in every way
Whilst she is out socializing at home he does stay
In their mid sixties without children of them one can say
That physically they have known a far better day
Years ago Dan was one who liked to socialize
Which to many who know him is quite a surprise
Since when Kate is socializing at home he does stay
Up to five years ago it used not be this way.

John Healy

From Aubane in view of Mushera he had flaming red hair
As a young man John Healy was unburdened by care
For years he lived with his family in Macroom in Barrett's Place
Where his to many was quite a well known face

When last i saw John Healy near fifty years ago
He was in his prime then time had not become his foe
On a Sunday evening in mid Autumn in the Town of Millstreet
I little thought then him i would never more meet

In Mushera valley one not destined to stay
As a young man from Aubane he did move away
He went to see life in the big World out there
From his first home-place he would grow old elsewhere

To say life is always easy would be to pretend
One can only hope he did not suffer at his journey's end
Perhaps in his early to mid seventies he was not young or old
And the story of his life deserves to be told

By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's in Millstreet his last remains lay
For all of us there will come a final day
Perhaps in his flaming red hair there was gray
For youth is a thing with us that does not stay.

Weatherwise Of Sliabh Luachra And Duhallow

Weatherwise of Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow not any good news from there
On the fields and on the roadways brown flood waters everywhere
Every day there it is raining it has been raining since the Fall
Of Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow the weather reports not good at all

Hungry cattle in the farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
For climate Change and Global Warming there is a big price to pay
In drought or months of storm and heavy rainfall climate Change is Worldwide
For kilometers on either side of the Cork and Kerry border a flood covered countryside

Down from the rugged Boggeragh Ranges the cold Winter winds are blowing
And the rills, streams and rivers and the fields drains overflowing
And water spilling on every roadway from every roadside drain
One thing they do not need in Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow and this is not any more rain

Weather patterns seem to vary greatly in these times of Climate Change
In most Countries of the World Nature she is acting strange
Of months of drought or storms and rainfall no two Countries are the same
For the swinging moods of Nature us humans are not free of blame

Of Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow weatherwise the news is sad
It is cold and wet and windy every forecast seems so bad
From the foothills of the Boggeraghs storm water is rushing down
To cover most of the countryside in flood waters of brown.

Of Your Young Years Long Ago

Have you ever felt so lonely that your eyes were moist with tears
As your memories took you back in time to for you happier years
To when you were younger, fitter and stronger but the good days did not last
It can stir up the emotions the good memories of the past

When you played football with your teenage friends in the park of the far town
And you daydreamed of greatness and Worldwide sporting renown
Only to realize years later daydreams seldom do come true
A future of sporting honor in life was not to be your due

You remember the teenage beauty of your younger years in the town
With eyes as blue as ripened sloes and wavy locks of brown
You remember how you loved her in your young and boyish way
And though you never got to know her memories of her with you stay

Your aging ex wife she is married to a man of sixty three
And your children and grandchildren once a year you only see
You often think back on the good times of the what used to be
But often in life your happiest moment can become your saddest memory

Sometimes you go to the local pub for to have a social drink
And since you left the workplace you have far more time to think
You are on retirement pension and will be sixty six next May
And time that leaves everyone older on you ticks and ticks away

All you have are the good memories of good times that did not last
But the now is all we can live in since the past is of the past
And though the years are telling on you and time has become your foe
You often remember the brown haired blue eyed beauty of your young years long ago.

First Home

To the Londoner it is London to the Roman it is Rome
We all have a place to call home
The migrants from New York and Bombay
Will tell you their home from here is far away

To the migrants of Barcelona in Spain
Barcelona as their home does remain
And though living far from there the Tokyo woman or man
Remain loyal to their part of Japan

Home is where the heart is some do say
And though the Athenian in Athens did not stay
With such a saying he does not agree
He says Athens remains home to me

Migrants of Paris, Capetown, Moscow or any other where
Of the bigger World out there
Will tell you their home is where their journey in life began
Where they grew into a young woman or man

From any part of the World one could name
Home to most of us migrants the same
Our first home is home to us still
Mine is Claraghatlea Millstreet Town near Clara Hill.

Holy Jane

Holy Jane says that life after death is not a lie
That on the day her body will die
Her soul with wings will quickly fly
To her God's Paradise beyond the sky
A widow and grandmother in her life's sixty fifth year
The thought of death for her holds no fear
Since she is sure that her soul is heaven bound
Where only the good are to be found
A woman as holy as any holy nun
To sing hymns to her God her way of having fun
To her God in church for an hour every day
She kneels at the altar for to pray
Holy Jane believes her soul will fly
To her God's Kingdom beyond the sky.

The Fellow Who Does His Own Thing

One might say a man on his own
As a group person he will never be known
Not a member of any organization or club
And he drinks on his own in the pub
One who has never kicked a football
Since sports does not interest him at all
In his mid twenties one partial to the brief sexual fling
A long term relationship is not his thing
What he does not need in his life
Are the responsibilities of children a long term relationship or wife
Though he is one who can tell or laugh at a joke
And he is quite a likeable Bloke
Yet the praises anyone never does sing
Of the fellow who does his own thing.

January In Sliabh Luachra And Duhallow

Swollen from heavy rain in Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow
The river Blackwater it's banks overflow
And flood the countryside for kilometers around
The waterlogged fields on flood waters abound

The howling of the gales in the bare trees one often does hear
In January in Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow a cold and wet time of year
The weather temperatures often at the point of freeze
Can plummet to well below zero degrees

The mornings quite cold the frosted fields often gray
Above the low rain clouds the sun hidden away
The cattle in farm sheds bellow for silage or hay
So many cold and wet days and nights till the birth of the May

Through the years of absence the memories remain
of storms and snow, frost and flooding rain
And so many weeks 'til the first breath of Spring
When the wild born nesting birds will chirp and sing

Above the fields of the rook and the silver back crow
From the Boggeragh Ranges the cold winds do blow
And though the weather is cold and the sky seldom clear
Every grey dawn to the Spring brings us near.

Storm Frank

Storm Frank to Britain and Ireland may have come and gone
But the financial cost of the damage he has caused for years will linger on
To individuals in flood and storm damage the worst seen for years
Leaving many for to count their losses in tears
Storm Frank caused huge damage his affects felt far and wide
In towns, villages and cities and in the countryside
When Nature grows angry she is a destructive force
And causes damage to every obstacle that is in her course
Storm Frank he may well have blown himself tame
But you cannot sue Nature for the damage that she is for to blame
The force that is capable of creating a beautiful flower
Is also the World's number one super power
And when Nature grows angry you better watch out
The damage caused by Storm Frank of this leaves none in doubt.

Since You Have Never Harmed Anyone

Since you have never harmed anyone in any way
Why worry what others of you do say
Since a few negative people live in every village, city and town
And do derive pleasure on verbally putting good living people down
Since of you they do not broadcast a harmful lie
What they say of you should not haunt you till the day you do die
If you react to their negative comments of you satisfaction they will only gain
Why some people find pleasure on verbally putting down others beyond one like me to explain
Playing their mind games with them you for one does not need
Leave it to them for to plant their own bad karma seed
Tomorrow it will not be of you that they will have unkind things to say
They will find someone else for to pick on since people like them are this way
You never harm anyone so any heed why do you pay
To the few small minded people who unkind things of you say.

It Is The Time Of Year

I have been wished a happy new year a few times today
And the same to you in return i did say
Doubtless nice words are always quite nice for to hear
For warm goodwill greetings it is the time of year
In villages, towns and cities this evening close to and after midnight
Excitement and joy will have reached a new height
And even strangers will hug and shake hands when they meet
In every crowded town mall and on every street
Moments of sheer joy in our lifetimes are few
When the strains of Auld lang Syne does ring in the new
The old year it is dying at midnight it will be dead
And hope springs eternal for better days ahead
The words happy new year always happy to hear
For hope springs eternal in a brand new year.

New Year's Eve 2015 In the Moyne Shire

It is warm in the Moyne Shire near coastal Warrnambool
In the shade of the tall trees the cattle crowd to keep cool
A weather temperature high for the day of thirty five degrees
And even a humid warmth in the strong coastal breeze
Blowing uphill across the brown paddocks from Gormans Bay
In the early evening of the eve of New Year's Day
For many weeks El Nino the one who thrives on drought
In the coastal countryside out and about
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the dry ground
The paddocks brown, bare and dry in the coastal countryside around
The south western Victoria's coastal City of greater Warrnambool
Where the weather temperatures than this is often far more cool
And the lowing of a cow the only sound i do hear
On the very last evening of the old year.

If You Cannot Love Yourself

If you cannot love yourself you cannot love others is a saying that happens for to be true
And if you cannot give love it does follow that love will not become your due
But life it is meant to be this way if you cannot give do not expect to receive
A good enough philosophy for living and one on which i do believe
Some people are so kind and helpful they do possess the inner glow
A few of their sort though not many i do feel quite lucky for to know
Though sometimes self love can become narcissistic i know of a few who are this way
And meeting their sort not a pleasure they never help for to make my day
The topic of their conversation is always me, myself and i
Theirs is a self love that is way over the top to true self love they give the lie
But we need some self love to love others at least this is how it seems to be
I cannot hope to love others if i do not know how to love me
If you cannot love yourself you cannot love others as a truism does remain
And why this is ask one with more knowledge since it is beyond me to explain.

Molly Murphy

As a child and a teenager she would have heard the male snipe on a Spring night
Under the cloak of darkness in his courtship flight
With his tail feathers make a drumming sound
As above his breeding territory he flies around and around
But her future in life was to be lived elsewhere
And as a young woman Molly Murphy left Shanaknuck for the big World out there
Like many in life she had her happy times and sad
And like most she learned to cope with the good and the bad
But not far from Shanaknuck where she knew of laughter and shed her first tears
In Mallow she did live out her twilight years
Not far from Shanaknuck where she first looked on the lamp of day
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's Molly Murphy's last remains lay
For all of us from life a final release
And four kilometers from her first home may she rest in peace.