Has To Be You

You may feel that life on you is rather tough
But when compared to many you know it easy enough
A nice home to live in and you have never known of a hungry day
That life is not tough on you does seem true to say
The Homeless and Stateless are to be found everywhere
There are millions of people living in dire poverty in the big World out there
In the refugee camps of the World there are millions of refugees
Even poverty does come at varying degrees
And you who have never known of hardship or experienced hunger pain
Of how tough life on you is like to complain
Though you look physically healthy and always dress in good clothes
There is poverty of mind too one has to suppose
You have never been hungry or homeless but in your mind it is true
That the poorest person in the town has to be you.

Cheated By Time

Are you one of those who feels cheated by time
That the clock on you has ticked on too fast since your physical prime
There are many who feel like you that time does go too fast
Tomorrow today it will be of the past
You are not as strong or as fit as you were a few decades ago
Time was your friend then today it is your foe
Us humans like the food we eat on us a use by date
Time for anyone has not been known to wait
Three score and ten years the average human lifetime span
A few years more for a woman than it is for a man
Death is for all living creatures from the great to the small
There is a last day and last night for us all
And are you one of those who feels cheated by time
That the clock on you has ticked on too fast since your physical prime?

It Is Cold And Wet Today

It is cold and wet today where the waterways meet
In the green countryside by the Town of Millstreet
The Boggeragh Ranges cloaked in the fogs of rain
And brown storm water flowing in every field drain

With only a day to the calendar Spring
Deciduous trees bare and birds do not sing
It rained overnight and it will rain today
And cattle in the farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay

It has been a long Winter weather-wise bad over all
With so many big floods since the mid Fall
But it is not that long until the prime of the Spring
When the wild nesting birds will have their songs to sing

And there will be new leaves on the deciduous trees
And the weather temperature will be close to twenty degrees
And in the fields contented cattle chewing their cuds do lay
On nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day

And the hawthorns will look resplendent in their blossoms of white to gray
They do look their finest from late April to late May
And the old fields at their greenest from the mild Spring showers
A sight of Natural beauty in their Nature's flowers.

To Wherever You Go

As long as your gift of memory you retain
The past in your thoughts you will visit again
And though time that rusts iron is becoming your foe
Your past goes with you to wherever you go
The memories remain with you of the town far away
Of where you first looked on the bright lamp of day
Of where you spent most of your younger years
Though for what used to be you have shed your last tears
Any of your childhood friends you may never again see
Though they remain as they were in your memory
The memories of what was with you bound to stay
For as long as you live until your last night and day
Some you went to school with where the deceased are do lay
And the now is all that does matter as the wise one does say.

Only For The Tiny Voice

Ted came home early from work to see Ann his wife
The beautiful brunette the love of his life
In bed with Jim their neighbor in the joy of their passion him they did not see
Shocked and angry his mind became flooded with jealousy

For to bring a swift ending to their immoral sexual fun
He went to his garage for to fetch his gun
Until a tiny voice spoke in the depths of his head
Why spend your lifetime in prison for the murder of the immoral dead

He put the gun back in the drawer and drove off on his car
Out of the town his journey would take him far
And left his three months pregnant wife the unfaithful Ann
For to start a new life with her new lover man

Since then two years of his life has gone by
And on looking back the days time does seem to fly
Pending a d n a test he would only agree
To pay child allowance which did prove that Jim was the baby Girl's father not he

Only for the tiny voice in his head Ted would be in prison today
And there he would live until he died old and gray
He has a good job and he earns a good pay
And is content in his life and feeling okay.

A Free Range Idiot

The one referred to as an idiot does lack the inner glow
But the meaning of a free range idiot is something i cannot claim to know
That's what a woman shouted to her husband or partner in the super market the other day
Towards him she was acting in an aggressive way
That he seemed a bit embarrassed one need not wonder why
And to her verbal insults he did not reply
And though idiot is one quite slow in the mind
On the internet the meaning of a free range idiot i could not find
I can only come to the conclusion that a free range idiot is an idiot of any self awareness free
Though her husband or partner did not seem that sort of a person to me
On her behavior she seemed idiotic and insulting in her loud and aggressive way
Suppose it does take all kinds as some are known to say
I cannot say that i envy the man his lot in life
To have one like her as a partner or wife.

Praise And Criticism

Praise and criticism i treat them as the same
To me they are just the opinions of others for want of a better name
Though very few ever like being criticized
That most people like to be praised i too have realized
Though the praise of others good for our self esteem
We learn more about ourselves from criticism is how it does seem
And though self praise nowadays with many does seem the in thing
Best leave it to others your praises to sing
In the age of self promotion narcissism is rife
To many it does seem it is a way of life
But we all cannot be well loved and famous and great
And we all cannot be one the masses celebrate
And praise and criticism to me much the same
Just the opinions of others for want of a better name.

Karma In Time

When the wrong by law has not been made right and justice did fail
For the sinned against karma will eventually prevail
For what goes around comes around is true to say
This refers to karma as karma works in this way
Though guilty the law against you has not proved a case
But the law of karma you eventually must face
For your sins of the past in some sort of a way
To karma your turn will come for to pay
Though the law of the Land has failed to catch up with you
To karma you will have for to pay your due
All wrongdoers karma never cease to pursue
What goes around comes around as ever remains true
Though against the guilty for to prove a case the law it did fail
Karma in time will eventually prevail.

The Legend Of Willie Neenan

On one of the gates in Millstreet Town Park is inscribed his name
In Irish athletics Willie Neenan's is an enduring fame
In his thousands of races he seldom finished out of a place
In Millstreet in late June in his honor a 10k road race

By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's Cemetery his last remains lay
But the legend he created in his lifetime is living today
Against the best with success he did compete
He remains today as Millstreet's greatest athlete

In his lifetime of competing and training a million miles he must have ran
Willie Neenan he was quite an amazing man
In athletics in Duhallow sixty years to the fore
He often ran to the cross on the summit of Clara above high Claramore

In his twilight years Willie Neenan outran many in their physical prime
But like everyone he eventually became a victim of time
World Masters, Irish, Munster and Cork County medals he ran against the best
And he was one never found to be wanting when put to the test

In his physical prime in the nineteen fifties sixty years ago
And eventually time becomes everyone's foe
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's Cemetery near Millstreet Town the last remains lay
Of Willie Neenan a legend in his lifetime and a legend today.

Old Clara In Duhallow

To climb to the steel cross on it's summit no claim to renown
Old Clara in Duhallow that ever looks down
On the green countryside where the waterways meet
And the streets and the houses of the Town of Millstreet

As a challenge to famous climbers it will never be known
But Clara for it's amazing views with the best does hold it's own
From it's bracken clad slopes on a clear day quite amazing scenery
Of the countryside of Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra beyond Rathmore and Knocknagree

To the left Kippagh, Caherbarnagh and Gortavehy with it's face of stone
And the legendary breasts of Anu known as the Paps of Shrone
One of the old hills overlooking the green border countryside
From the slopes of Clara Mountain one can see far and wide

Though for my long gone youth i have shed my last tears
And old Clara in Duhallow i have not seen for years
In my visualizations i often climb it again
Fond memories of what was with me does remain.

The Town's Greatest Athlete

Back in the mid sixties he was in his life's prime
Though this is going back many Seasons in time
And though looking back the years it only seems like yesterday
The hair light brown then is now silver gray

In his prime years quite a good athlete
Against the best in the region with success he did compete
But going back the decades this seems long ago
And time as is said becomes everyone's foe

A divorced grandfather in his mid seventies his best years long gone
And the clock on his life ever keeps ticking on
Fifty years ago when he was put to the athletic test
He was never found to be wanting against the region's best

The great trees of the forest from old age does fall
And time that rusts iron eventually takes care of all
Yet he can lay claim to sporting renown
As one of the all time great athletes of the town

The passing of time on him surely does tell
Of late he has not been feeling that well
The town's greatest athlete five decades ago
Eventually time becomes everyone's foe.

On Silver Back Crows

The mountain sheep farmers have nothing nice for to say
Of the much maligned birds of feathers of dark and gray
And this in itself does not seem a surprise
Since of weak new born lambs they do pluck out the eyes

Any sheep farmers that i ever did know
Had never one nice thing to say of the silver back crow
To them they are predators to be shot on sight
That to die of old age they do not have the right

But despite bad Winters and shootings and poisonings the black and gray birds survive
And in the harshest of environments they are known for to thrive
And since humans they only have reason to fear
They fly off if anyone to them comes near

To prey on the weak to them a natural thing
And because of them many young lambs die in the Spring
But Nature she does work in her own way
And for some to live some have to die true to say

No friend of the sheep farmer the silver back crow
They pluck out the eyes of young lambs leaving them to die painful and slow
But in Nature where there is even life in decay
The weak to the strong often do become prey.

A Warm Day In February

The day it is warm thirty five degrees
And a humid warmth in the southerly breeze
That blow from the sea through the park by the bay
Even for late February a very warm day

For weeks El Nino the thirsty one has been around
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the dry ground
Many farmers are feeding their cattle on silage and hay
That no grass grows on bare dry ground does seem true to say

The warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
And the sheep crowd for shelter from the sun in the shade of the tall trees
Though white butterflies flitting in the warm sunlight
Do make for what is a beautiful sight

The water dams low and bone dry every drain
The bare, brown and dry countryside is in need of lots of rain
With the sun on their wings in the blue and gray sky
The dark welcome swallows in pursuit of flying insects do fly.

Big Brother's Disciples

We are being judged by others every day
The judgmental are many this is the human way
And Big Brother knows many things about you and i
His disciples will be watching us until the day we do die
Big Brother's disciples to be found everywhere
There are billions of them in the big World out there
The unpaid spies of governments Worldwide
Any secrets you have from them so hard to hide
To the cause of Big Brother they remain ever true
They inform him of everything they know about you
They are on the phone to him every day
Yet for their work on his behalf they never receive any pay
To find out things about you they go out of their way
Big brother's disciples are listening be careful what you do say.

Fringe Dwellers

They live in every city and every village and town
The people who are strangers even to local renown
known as fringe dwellers even in their locality only to few known
They are never referred to as those of our own
They are not members of any local or community club
And are seldom seen at the town's local pub
They live in their own way and do their own thing
And of their praises you never hear anyone sing
Fringe dwellers by nature and fringe dwellers by name
They never feel any desire for wealth and for fame
They are different to most others of them one can say
Quite different to the tribal type in every way
They feel no desire for wealth and renown
And they will always be outsiders even on their side of the town.

How Boring We Would Be

The praises of billionaires and celebrities the masses may sing
But success as is often said is a relative thing
And your idea of a successfully lived life is quite different to mine
We vary in our thinking like the taste of wine
A swimming pool in your backyard and your brand new expensive make of car
Does not tell me anything of the person you are
Your material possessions do not say of you that you are compassionate and kind
And to help one in need of your help that you are readily inclined
You may be looked up to as one of the famous and great
And by the masses seen as one they should celebrate
And though you may well be a hero in their impressionable eyes
That you are self centered and ruthless in your pursuit of success they have failed to realize
But what make most people interesting is that they look at life differently
If we all admired the wealthy and famous how boring we would be.

They Are A Rare Breed

They are a rare breed indeed very rare
Who in life have never had a cross to bear
Who never in life have shed tears of loss
As most have been burdened with some sorrow cross
Though grief is a thing that can linger with one for years
It is said of it that it can be healed by tears
Sorrow is a thing that most people have known
And your sorrows though shared do remain as your own
Most people of life have sad stories to tell
Each time i hear the tolling of a funeral bell
I know for the family and friends of the deceased this is a sad day
That life has it's good and it's bad days only true for to say
And they are a rare breed indeed very rare
Who in life have never had a cross to bear.

To Your Higher Self

To your higher self you cannot be true
If you do not give everyone the respect they are due
If their flaws you only do like to point out
And on their value as human beings cast a doubt
If you value one above another by her or his profession or monetary pay
You are one who is quite ordinary in your ordinary way
And with you as is said for to be rather frank
You are just one of many who help to uphold the social rank
Plenty like you in every village, city and town
All too willing to verbally put others down
The judgmental sad to say are not in the few
On this i am not saying anything that is new
In your words you never promote a fair go for all
Which makes you in your ways as a person rather small.

What Did They Die For

For Ireland and it's culture and it's flag of gold, white and green
They were brave men who were executed in Dublin in Easter of nineteen sixteen
As prisoners of the British Government they died under British gunfire
But generation of freedom fighters Worldwide these brave Irish martyrs did inspire

Yet one must ask what did they die for not for so called Irish country music one must say
For this is not of Irish culture it's source is of the U S of A
And rock and pop not of Irish culture their sources are from Lands elsewhere
The brave young men who died for Ireland did not die for the big World out there

And they did not die for an Ireland to be ruled by big governments of the E U
To be bossed by their bosses in Brussels like bosses telling their workers what to do
Like on how they should run their economy it was because of British rule in Ireland they died
They would see the people of twenty first century Ireland as a people who have lost their sense of National pride

But none can see that far into the future if they could have seen a century ahead
They would not have had an Easter Rising and be of the glorified dead
If they could have looked into the future they would have lived on to die old and gray
The Ireland that they gave their lives for is not the Ireland of today

That they visualized a different Ireland than to the Ireland we know of seems true to say
Whose so called Irish country music has it's source in a Land far away
Though with my way of thinking on this one i know many would disagree
But each to their own as they do say for this is how it ought to be.

In Life As Is Said

In life as is said one must give to receive
Though on such a philosophy many do not believe
Those who only know how to take but do not know how to give
It is only by receiving they learn how to live

Kindness and compassion and generosity
Are closely related would you not agree
The greedy do seem to lack in empathy
At least anyway is how it seems to be

The people who like to perform a good deed
For their future good karma are planting the seed
The one willing to help one of helping in need
By good example is one born to lead

Compassionate people are never in the public eye
Of publicity their sort do mostly seem shy
Actions speak louder than words with them it is this way
it is not for praise or money they perform good deeds every day

In life we only receive the karma we are due
We must give to receive i believe to be true
Though some do see life in a different way
God helps those who help themselves their kind are known to say.

Not Even For Young Jim

Not everything in life does go to plan
Not even for young Jim the clever man
In his recent shares investment he thought he was on to a good thing
That a huge financial profit to him it would bring
But the value of his shares decreased overnight
And now his future not looking so bright
Life has it's good and bad seems true to say
He is not a very happy man today
Yesterday one of the happiest in the town
But for every up in life there is a down
Today if he sold his shares he would take a huge financial loss
Seems like he will not become his own boss
As he had planned to do at least now not for some while
Young Jim today does not feel the urge to smile.

The Song Of The Gray Shrike Thrush

The song of the gray shrike thrush so pleasant to hear
He whistles on a wattle tree to where i am near
His whistling so distinctive, melodious and clear
For one wild-born of me he displays little fear
Not one in his lifetime who will travel to places far and wide
From the verge of the woodland in the high countryside
Not far from where he was born and raised he is happy to stay
And here he will live until his last living day
A bird of gray under and back and wings of light brown
Any of his kind i have yet to see in in the park of a town
At the verge of the high wood he sings at daybreak
His whistling once heard one never again is likely to mistake
On a young wattle tree to where i am standing near
His territorial whistling a joy for to hear.

I Have Traveled A Bit

I have traveled a bit been in many a town
And i have mixed with many races of black, white and brown
But you need not be well educated or be one who has traveled far
To realize that skin pigmentation does not define the person you are

I have met with good people of every race and creed
And red is the blood we are born with to bleed
I only treat others the way they treat me
This is how it is and how it ought to be

If to your higher self you wish to be true
Do give to everyone the respect they are due
If you show disrespect in return disrespect you receive
This is some thing that should not be hard to believe

The near perfect people to say the least few
To this you may say do tell us what is new
But there is a moral code for us all to live by
To every male and female this does apply

Years ago from my first home i went to live elsewhere
And since i have traveled a bit in the big World out there
I have mixed with many races and i have come to realize
That you cannot define a person by her or his nationality this is not a surprise.

On Magpie Larks

Black and white birds by their song one could never mistake
They sing every day to nightfall from daybreak
Known as magpie larks though some name them from their song of pee wee
Or mudlarks since they build a mud nest on branch of a tree
Medium sized birds their familiarity is their claim to bird renown
They are at home in the country paddocks or the parks of the town
Near where humans live they seem happy for to stay
Dainty birds that i do see and hear every day
Their heads ever bobbing as they walk around
They live on small insects they find on the ground
Quite charming birds they do have ways of their own
Australia's magpie larks are loved by many and widely known
From where i live they never do seem far away
They are birds i hear and do see every day.

Old Joe In His Seventies

Old Joe in his seventies a well traveled man
He has been to Indonesia and China and Japan
To Canada and Brazil and the U S of A
And in Mexico and Argentina for a while he did stay

He has visited the World's great Cities a long way from home
London, Paris and New York and Tokyo and Rome
And Beijing and Capetown, Hong Kong and Bombay
He is quite a well traveled fellow of him one can say

Not too many places of significance to that he has not been
The Serengeti National Park, the Pyramids and Uluru he has seen
And Niagara Falls and he has seen the Amazon through the South American rain forests flow
And he has been to the Arctic and Antarctic the Land of ice and snow

In a motoring accident he lost Anna his pregnant wife
She was his soulmate and the great love of his life
He never remarried his three years with Anna were the happiest in life he has had
Her tragic death robbed him of the chance of becoming a dad

Old Joe has done with traveling since he is not feeling well
But of his adventurous life he has great stories to tell
But sadly for him his better days are in the distant past
And in Geelong where he was born and raised he will breathe his last.

That He Is A Good Person

That he is a good person does go without doubt
Yet when we meet we share little in common for to talk about
Except for the weather and sometimes football
And excepting these we share little at all
Of classical music he is a big fan
To my way of thinking a different man
And like i say we have little in common on which to talk about
So of conversation we quickly run out
If we all had similar interests in life how boring we would be
For variety is the spice of life would you not agree
His friends are fans of classical music this in common they do share
Our friends in many ways like-minded of this i am aware
Sometimes i see him walking his black and white fox terrier on the street
And our conversation a brief one when we do meet.

Back In The Late Nineteen Fifties

Back in the late nineteen fifties when i was a young boy
The memory of the music sessions of the Irish Travelers to me remain as a source of joy
Sparks from their camp fire by the Shannaknock cross in the night breeze did fly
As they sang whilst they played under the starry sky

Though they knew of discrimination a sinned against race
In their song and music sessions anyone not made to feel out of place
Great singers and musicians for to give them their due
And to their way of life they remained ever true

The warmth of their open fire kept the night chill at bay
They drank guinness and sung and sweet tunes they did play
On their tin whistles and accordions and fiddles the memories only remain
Of what used to be but will never be again

In their horse drawn caravans the Irish Travelers traveled far and wide
From country town to country town on the by roads of the green countryside
But the early sixties brought change to the traveling clan
And their horse drawn caravans were replaced by the motorized van

Though change can be a good thing it can also come at a cultural cost
For to Shannaknock cross a thing of great beauty was lost
No travelers horse drawn caravans on the Irish roads today
And all of those who remember them showing their years in gray

Despite their financial poverty they seemed happy people and of cares did seem free
And all we have are memories of the what used to be
No Irish Travelers horse drawn caravans by the Shannaknock cross today
And this is a sad thing for to have to say.

Not Even You

You may be quite popular and known far and wide
A hero in your hometown and far beyond your home countryside
You have so many fans in their eyes you walk tall
Though not everyone loves you not even you can win them all

The sporting fans near and far know you by name
And yours it is far more than a local fame
Yet some do not like you though only a few
But this applies to everyone and is nothing new

Against the best with success you do compete
Qualified for the Olympics a marvelous athlete
You have many admirers who look on you as great
But your successes not everyone does celebrate

That you are celebrated is obviously clear
The applause of your fans you do love to hear
Though you are not a hero in everyone's eyes
And this in itself is not any surprise

Your praises your many fans do love to sing
And to know you are admired by so many joy and pride to you bring
Your photo in frame hung in many a club room wall
And though of fans you have many you cannot win them all.

On A Tuesday Evening In February

On a Tuesday evening in February sunny and windy though cool
In the Moyne Shire countryside near the City of Warrnambool
The magpie larks are singing their familiar pee wee
Black and white birds familiar to many and familiar to me
The paddocks where cattle are looking bare, brown and dry
And the dark welcome swallows chirping as they fly
With the sun on their wings in the gray and blue sky
No flying insects are safe with them hunting nearby
The Moyne Shire is in need of lots of rain
The water dams low and bone dry every drain
For many weeks El Nino the thirsty one has been around
Sucking every drop of moisture out of the dry ground
A magpie is warbling on a sunlit gum tree
And the magpie larks are singing their familiar pee wee.

Changes In Old Millstreet Town

I hear there are changes in old Millstreet Town
Some new businesses have opened and others have closed down
And fewer pubs in Millstreet than there used to be
Time brings with it changes would you not agree?

In February in Duhallow it is a cold and wet time of year
But that all is well in Millstreet is good news to hear
As safe a place to live in now as it has ever been
Though like anywhere else changes there to be seen

In the twenty first century Duhallow great changes taking place
It used to be a barony of only one race
And Millstreet in this it's own part does play
A Parish of many new faces today

Old Millstreet does have many claims to renown
Known for it's friendly people it remains a welcoming Town
A place known to people in Lands Worldwide
In view of Clara Mountain in Duhallow's green countryside

In a Town where i lived near for many a year
Great changes occurring in Millstreet i hear
With them new people new cultures do bring
And change for the better is only a good thing.

Of Knowledge And Wisdom

Knowledge is a thing knowledgeable people get paid for to share
But the wise than the knowledgeable are far more rare
Knowledge comes from education wisdom comes from insight
Though to the human mind they both do bring greater light
The one who is wise may not be very knowledgeable and the one who is knowledgeable may not be very wise
They come from a different mental source as most people do realize
Though some seems to see them as the same the same they never could be
As different as a conifer is to an acacia though they both are a species of tree
I know or know of knowledgeable people though the wise i know or know of in the few
This is not any revelation or anything in any way new
We are in need of more enlightenment in the Human World of today
And it's true about knowledge and wisdom of self betterment they never get in the way
And sad to say of the Human World that perfection is not anywhere in sight
But the mind open to self improvement is the mind that is open to light.

An Average Rhymer

An average rhymer unworthy of literary note
I have convinced myself i will never become a poet
But i enjoy rhyming i write rhymes every day
And what i enjoy doing why should i give away
And though my worth as a rhymer i always do doubt
No shortage of things for me to write rhymes about
Of life and of nature and the beauty i do see
That i see every day everywhere around me
I am one of those who is addicted to rhyme
Who has penned reams of stuff over Seasons of time
More rhymes in my notebook everyday i do write
And email them to an internet literary site
As a writer i will never be one to the fore
I just write rhymes for enjoyment and little else more.

Old Andy

Old Andy in some of his memories has laughter and tears
As he goes back in time to the long gone years
To the park in his hometown where with his young friends he played football
He has many memories of his life to recall

The woman he loved and who became his wife
For the past fifteen years has not been part of his life
She has since remarried to a younger man
Not all things in life do always go to plan

A grandfather in his mid seventies from a Land far away
Andy is showing his years in wrinkles and gray
Amiable in his ways and quite a nice old bloke
And when in the mood he can tell a good joke

Andy is one who has learned from the past
He says the love that is quick to blossom does not always last
That we all have our good and our bad times does seem true to say
And for our lessons in life always some price to pay

He left his old hometown fifty years ago
And time then on his side has now become his foe
Physically healthy though an aging grand dad
His philosophy in life take the good with the bad.

Eileen Corcoran

An easy going person not hard to befriend
For as long as i remember her Eileen Corcoran lived in Millstreet's Town's West End
In the flesh one never for to be seen again
But in all who knew her good memories of her will remain
Everyone death eventually have to face
Gone from Millstreet's West End one a credit to her place
Suppose time does bring changes does seem true to say
This is how it is with life and it will always be this way
I remember Eileen Corcoran when in her life's prime
This is going back quite far in the Seasons of time
To Duhallow she saw many days come and go
And eventually time becomes everyone's foe
For all of us there will be a last night and day
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's Eileen's last remains lay.

From Millstreet In Duhallow

From Millstreet in Duhallow i do live far away
And perhaps it will not be by Cashman's Hill that my last remains will lay
Time does not wait for anyone as the wise one does say
And each years leaves me looking older and balder and more gray
It has been quite a while since my physical prime
Eventually like everyone else i will run out of time
And though in my prime years i was not an athlete
Time it has left me quite slow on my feet
Far from where i first looked on the light of day and grew into a man
Like many migrants i well may live out my life span
In Claraghatlea years ago i was one of it's own
But today i would be a stranger to many where i once was well known
Millstreet Town and Clara Mountain i may never again see
And all i have are the memories of the what used to be.

The People From Elsewhere

Though their journeys in life take them to live in places elsewhere
The migrants always remember their friends over there
Family and friends they have not seen for years
Memories of the past often have them close to tears
Though old memories of what was in them never do fade
Where they have settled elsewhere new friends they have made
Old memories die hard as the wise one does say
And for as long as they live the mental images with them will stay
Of people they know who from where they live do live far
A destination that they cannot travel to by car
For a sense of adventure or other reasons they leave the home-place
Far from once familiar surroundings new challenges in life they do face
Where they will always be the people from elsewhere
Who left their first home-place for the big World out there.

In Her Twenties One Of Great Beauty

In her twenties one of great beauty for to behold
But despite hair dyes and anti aging creams she looks like one getting old
A divorced grandmother in her mid fifties it would seem true to say
That her body showing time wear she has known a better physical day
With a brown and white jack russell terrier for company she lives on her own
Three decades ago for her beauty she was widely known
The aging males who admired her her then do not admire her today
Many aging males admire young women it does seem this way
Her ex husband he left her for one younger by years
In love there can be joy and there also is tears
But she does not feel unhappy in her single life
And perhaps she will never again be another man's wife
In her twenties a rare beauty with hair as dark as the wing of a crow
But despite hair dyes and anti aging creams her years she is beginning to show.

The Old Cinema At The West End

So many leaves of Autumn have turned to brown
Since the old cinema was closed at the West End of Millstreet Town
Many of the young people back then are grandparents today
And as is said of time it ticks and ticks away

Owned by Ciss MacSweeney who bequeathed it to her nephew Donal Murphy who bequeathed to his son Matt the old cinema is now a furniture store
To Millstreet Town a favorite place of entertainment lost forever more
Where young love did blossom and sadly for some too did end
That young love can be fickle why otherwise pretend

The old cinema at the West End of Millstreet Town a memory of the past
Like most things in a time of change it too did not last
But changes keep happening and time does tick on
And at midnight this evening today will be gone

Some of the patrons at the old cinema at the West End among the deceased do lay
Whilst others in Millstreet have chosen for to stay
And others from Duhallow are growing old far away
That time does not wait for anyone only seems true to say

The old cinema at the West End on view of high Claramore
Is nowadays widely known as Matt Murphy's furniture store
Fond memories are recalled when old friends do meet
And life does go on in the Town of Millstreet.

A Song For Amy

Amy was a good person she lived a moral life
To her children a good mother and to her late husband a good wife
Everyone who knew of her said a pleasure for to meet
Kind of heart and compassionate she was one without conceit

In her twilight years she lost her gift of memory though she lived to die old
The Amy's of the World their stories should be told
In her final years her family she could not recognize
Of how sad this must have been for them only they could realize

Those who lose the gift of memory of thought become bereft
Though living they are dead to friends and relatives life is all that they have left
Her family and all of her friends were strangers in Amy's eyes
This is what happens in the human mind when the gift of memory dies

When she realized her memory was fading and she was not thinking clear
The darkness engulfing her mind must have caused her grief and fear
On her last years without memory she had a vacant stare
And of people and her surroundings she did not seem aware.

This is a song for Amy who lost her gift of memory
She was a lovely lady for some how sad life can be
Near the end of her life journey even her nearest and dearest she did not know
And sadly those who lose their gift of memory do lose their inner glow.

Some Of The So Called Honorable

In the media every day we hear of them and read
The referred to by some as the born to lead
A so called honorable member of Parliament House
Unbeknownst to his wife having sex with another man's spouse
Some of the privileged in life by so many admired
In many ways leave a lot to be desired
For their fraudulent abuse of their parliamentary expenses the taxpayers do pay
Only in unfaithfulness and dishonesty some of them do lead the way
Some of the so called honorable members are not honorable at all
As people in some of their ways they are small
We elect the politicians we deserve some are known to say
Some of the so called honorable members are afflicted by moral decay
Though in their behavior they leave a lot to be desired
Some very flawed people are greatly admired.

We Reap What We Sow

In shootings or bombings or some other foul way
Innocent civilians are dying or maimed for life in war zones every day
To be in the wrong place and there at the wrong time
In anyone's law is never a crime
To some people the taking of human life seems to come cheap
But the karma they sow they eventually must reap
For it is true of karma we reap what we sow
Of karma this much many do seem to know
Out of war civilian dead heroes are made
In their honor there is never a street parade
And it does seem a very sad thing to say
That civilians are being murdered or maimed for life in war zones every day
Where there is no hope of peace in the decades ahead
The families in war zones are left to grieve for their dead.

February In Yangery

Wafting in the freshening breeze the sweet scent of hay
The magpies are warbling in Yangery today
The paddocks brown and dry and bone dry every drain
The Moyne Shire could do well with a few days of rain
Though the songs of the magpies and magpie larks every day one does hear
Yangery in February is a warm and dry time of year
The potato crops the only greenery in sight
Kept moist by the water irrigator machines at night
In the Moyne Shire in late Summer grass does not grow
And the lakes are drying out and the rivers are low
In the blue and sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
The farmers are feeding their animals hay
And the dark welcome swallows chirping as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects across the blue sky.

February In Duhallow

The Boggereagh Ranges not on view today
Behind the gray rain fog well hidden away
Streams, drains and rivers flowing bank high in flood waters of brown
And from the overcast sky the rain drizzling down
February in Duhallow a cold and wet time of year
When birdsong is something one never does hear
The cattle in farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
Their first bite of grass from them two months away
With young cubs to feed and small creatures hard to kill
At night the hungry fox barking in the field by the hill
And hungry birds searching for food in every backyard
In Winter weather on every wild-born creature life is so hard
And eight weeks or more till the nesting birds sing
In the leaf budding groves in the mildness of Spring.

The Praises Of Nature

The praises of Nature a joy for to sing
To us pleasure she never fails for to bring
On my walks every day her great beauty i do see
Everywhere i turn to look it is all around me
How pleasant the sound of the freshening breeze
Soughing in the branches of the leafy trees
When the wild born birds chirp, whistle and sing
The beauty of Nature is an amazing thing
Of Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
Nature's wonders are many and her secrets not few
On all of her four Seasons her beauty on view
Yet so little of her ways i can claim to know
And my wonderment of her it only does grow.

He Is A Fringe Dweller

He just lives in his own way and does his own thing
And the praises of anyone he never does sing
He never socializes at the local pub
And he is not a member of any community or sporting club
It is said he lacks ambition though he never harms anyone
Though one quite brave thing he is known to have done
He saved the life of wheelchair bound Mrs Kady when her home caught fire
Despite his aloofness in him things to admire
In his late twenties he does not have children or a partner or wife
He is one who lives quite a solitary life
He works hard for a living and in the brothel for sex does pay
And good or bad of anyone he never does say
He is a fringe dweller and lives in his own way
Yet if all were like him there would not be wars today.

In Gneeves Bog In May

The old ways of doing things to change does give way
Perhaps nowadays there are no shlaun men in Gneeves in May
In Irish bogs the peat cutting machines are now the in thing
To rural ways great changes time with it does bring

So few things in life ever do seem to last
I have been told that shlaun men in Gneeves are now of the past
Shlaun men in Ireland are a rare breed today
The changes keep happening and time ticks away

It is said that one peat cutting machine digs out more peat than fifty men could in a day
The last of the shlaun men showing their years in gray
And only the memories nowadays do remain
Of the what used to be and will not be again

But Nature does seem an unchangeable thing
The skylark in May above Gneeves does sing
A musical speck in the gray of the sky
As up to the cloud world he sing as he fly

His partner cloaked by the bracken in her simple ground nest
Warming to life the larks of the future in the eggs neath her breast
After the life from the last shlaun man has long gone
The creatures of Nature will be living on

Few if any shlaun men are working nowadays in Gneeves in May
Time brings with it changes as the wise one does say
But above the high bog-land in the prime of the Spring
The little brown lark in the gray clouds does sing.

Dennington's Rose

She hails from the place where the dark Merri flow
As on towards Lady Bay it crawls deep and slow
Her shoulder length hair is as dark as the wing of a crow
A beautiful woman in her early twenties she has the inner glow

Her eyes as dark blue as Late Autumn ripened sloes
She is worthy of the title of Dennington's Rose
And yet unaffected by guile or conceit
As nice a person as one could wish for to meet

A woman of rare beauty for to behold
She is engaged to be married as i have been told
In Dennington one who is happy to stay
Some men they are lucky is all i can say

A friend of the homeless and the refugee
For those doing it tough one who feels empathy
For her future good karma she does plant the seed
One who performs many a good deed

About her she does have such a happy way
And she greets everyone with a cheerful good day
In her life not one who deserves any foes
She is worthy of the title of Dennington's Rose.

Old Koroit Town

A gem of the Moyne Shire old Koroit Town
As a place of Irish music it has won renown
Quite close to Tower Hill with links to the Dreamtime
Koroit has inspired the writers of story and rhyme
The best of the Moyne Shire in a class of their own
Koroit for it's beautiful women has become widely known
A coastal rural Town in the Moyne countryside
That does attract visitors from places far and wide
The citizens of Koroit are a friendly race
And help to make their Town for visitors a welcoming place
Some people have come to Koroit for a brief holiday
Only to decide to remain for a much longer stay
Koroit in South West Victoria is a Town that is quite well known
And one can say it does have a charm of it's own.

Though Some Have Told Me

Though some have told me i have wasted my time
On my many Seasons of penning of rhyme
What they think of me is their business and this suits me fine
And what is their business is no business of mine
Of rhymers i will never be to the fore
It is something i enjoy doing and little else more
I will never be one of literary note
And i never refer to myself as a poet
I enjoyed reading rhyming poetry when i was a boy
And penning rhymes nowadays i thoroughly enjoy
Every day of the year more new rhymes i do write
And email them into an internet literary site
I have been told rhyming is a profitless waste of time
It is never for money that i do pen rhyme.

Little Johnny

Compared to big horses he does look rather small
But to them he does not feel in any way inferior at all
For such a little fellow his neigh is rather loud
With young Belinda on his back he does seem quite proud

A black eight year old Shetland pony in his physical prime
He will never be the hero of song, story and rhyme
A cocky little gelding with ways of his own
And it will not bother Little Johnny that he is not well known

His owner lovely Belinda the the dark haired seven year old
Would not part with Little Johnny for all of the World's gold
Every day she grooms and feeds him her favorite little black
And he always looks proud and happy when she is on his back

He has a small horse complex some small men are this way
He bosses his bigger companion the tall Joe the bay
He is lucky Joe is a quiet horse for if it came to a strength test
Johnny would not be the master as he would come out second best

Johnny the black Shetland pony has time on his side
A handsome little fellow the picture of pride
His owner young Belinda the dark haired seven year old
Would not part with her Little Johnny for all of the World's gold.

Of The Praises Of The Heroes Of War

Of the praises of the heroes of war the patriots may sing
But war in itself is a terrible thing
And even victory in war comes at a huge cost
In injury to many for life and in lives that are lost
Wars are being waged in the World every day
That leaders have not learned from past wars does seem sad to say
War over culture and borders and religion and race
In the minds of people at war for peace there is no place
When we glorify war peace will not be our due
That violence breeds violence only happens to be true
The war supposed to end all wars ended a century ago
And the enemy back then is no longer the foe
Yet civilians are dying in war zones every day
From past wars leaders have not learned which does seem sad to say.

It Is Not Of Money

Our biological clocks ever ticking away
Only to stop at the last moment of our last day
Of liquid and food you have more than enough
A nice home to live in you have never known it physically tough
And yet of your hard life you do complain
Unhappiness in your case a disease of the brain
Those of poverty thinking like you are quite poor indeed
Though it is not in lack of money that they are in need
Poor in their minds in the wealthy side of the town
In their delusions they believe they are financially down
Poverty is one thing but you will find
That some wealthy people have poverty of mind
And they are poor people quite poor indeed
Though it is not of money that they are in need.

The Well Known Sheepdog Trialer

The well known sheepdog trialer one of the best in the Land
That his border collies are champion dogs not hard to understand
Often wearing brown work boots, blue shirt, black pants and akubra hat of brown
One familiar to many in every sheepdog trialing town
The well known sheepdog trialer of his dogs rather proud
At his local pub among his mates he sings their praises loud
A sheep farmer in his late fifties at sheepdog trials with his wife
They are often seen working their dogs trialing a big part of their life
Their two daughters in the big city from the place they were raised in far away
Young and bright career women they work for a big take home pay
The well know sheepdog trialer in sheep penning circles known far and wide
That he is good at training dogs of him cannot be denied
His dogs never found to be wanting when put to the test
They have won many a championship and are among the country's best.

Though I Have

Though i have worked on pipelines in and near Ballarat
I cannot say that i have been there and done that
And worked on cherry pickers trimming tall trees
Above electricity power-lines a job that had dangers of varying degrees

I worked in the wood near Mushera Mountain where the cold winds often blow
Felling pine trees for making chipboard where the bracken knee high does grow
Financially i was a poor fellow then and i remain poor today
And the Seasons of time has left me bald, wrinkled looking and gray

From the place i was born and raised in i live far away
And though i have not been back there for many a day
The past as is said follows us to wherever we go
Though eventually time does become everyone's foe

Though i have seen bits of Britain, Ireland, the U S, New Zealand, Australia and Japan
I am not what one would call a well traveled man
And though the best years of my life are in the long gone
For as long as i can do i will keep on keeping on.

It Is Hard To Write Anything Good

It is hard to write anything good not even good rhyme
Something that would live over decades of time
And though writers are many good writers are few
In this i am not saying anything that is new
Some say good writers are born this way and cannot be made
Though every writer is needed in the great wordsmith trade
In writing like all things in life for one to win others must lose
Though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
Among writers a few have known of wealth and fame
But not everyone does become a great name
Many dream of becoming great writers but few their dreams do realize
But this in itself is not any surprise
And though only a minority of making a living from writing ever seem to succeed
Of every writer the wordsmith trade is in need.

Everyone Agrees On One Thing

Will not matter to you when you are deceased if your remains are put to ground
Or cremated in a crematorium and in your favorite place your ashes spread around
Though many people in their last will and testament decide where their remains lay
And yet the dead are past all feeling despite what some may think or say
Suppose we are different in our thinking very different you and me
And no two in their thinking exactly similar this is how it seems to be
Though many share a common belief and in their ways similarities abound
But even among the most most like-minded difference is to be found
And even in their funeral wishes no two think exactly the same
Suppose this is what it takes for to be human for want of a better name
It will not matter to me what happens to my remains when my time does come to die
On death this is only my belief and to many my truth based on a lie
On life and death many may have similar thinking though no two think in exactly the same way
Though everyone agrees on one thing for all of us a last night and day.

He Is One I Meet Sometimes

He is one i meet sometimes and not every day
Can you help me with money he always does say
I do not ask for that much a silver coin or two
Whatever you give i will be grateful to you
A balding man in his fifties in his dark hair some gray
He does not look shabby he dresses okay
I always give him a few coins he thanks me with a smile
Quite low in self esteem and he seems free of guile
For to beg for money he must be poor indeed
And of more than a few coins he is surely in need
A very poor fellow in the supposed to be middle class area of the big town
Life is never easy for the financially down
I do see him sometimes when walking the street
And he always asks me for money whenever we meet.

Time Is Our Master

In time Usain Bolt the World's fastest athlete
Against the World's greatest sprinters will be unable to compete
For time leaves the fittest and fastest walking slow
This is common knowledge as everyone does know
Muhammad Ali in boxing a renowned World great
The former World Heavyweight Champion millions of boxing fans used to celebrate
Is nowadays a shadow of the man that he used to be
With that time is our master who could disagree
Margaret Court with twenty four single tennis grand slam titles to her name
Her record alone her entitlement to Worldwide fame
In her physical prime a beautiful and marvelous athlete to behold
But time it has left her looking frail and old
Time as is said takes care of everyone
It is all of our master when all is said and done.

Old Davy

For one in his early eighties he does look fit and well
And though stories of a life of material success he does not have to tell
He will not die wealthy a known millionaire
But men like old Davy have always been rare

A working life of travel and adventure he has always led
He worked on pipeline crews and shore in many a shearing shed
A fellow quite partial to his pot of cheer
He has laughed and made merry and drunk lots of beer

He has never had children or a partner or wife
The women they came to and went from his life
In every town he had a brief sexual fling
To love them and leave them was always his thing

With silver gray hair and a sun bronzed wrinkled face
He has worked in and traveled through many a place
Around the big country he worked his way and traveled far and wide
But he has come to realize time is now not on his side

He is living his twilight years in his home town
Where he used to live when his hair was dark brown
In his working life he traveled the big country up and down
And to live as he choose is his claim to renown.

John Cronin

In the cemetery in Rathmore his last remains lay
From where he was born and raised not that far away
The seeds of good karma in his life he did sow
John Cronin a good man that i once used to know

Married to a fine Annagloor woman Philomena Long
The bond of love and friendship between them until his death remained strong
And though life is not eternal and time ticks on fast
Their love until his very last breath it did last

Predeceased by two of his children he and Philomena their grief they did share
In life there can be heavy crosses for to bear
But life does go on as the wise one does say
And tomorrow the past it will be today

But what matters is that John Cronin led an honorable life
To his children a good father and a good husband to Philomena his wife
On his life's journey he did make many a friend
A journey for all of us that has to end

In life John Cronin was one who did give to receive
On what was right and just one who did believe
In the cemetery at Rathmore his last remains lay
For all of us there will be a last night and day.

Little Else More

Us humans are mortals and little else more
And few can expect for to live to the age of years of four score
The longest lived human life in time not a long span
On average a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
To my own thoughts i can only be true
When i say of a life after death i would not have a clue
Any deceased person i have known have not come back to me for to tell
Of these places known as heaven or limbo or hell
I may not be one who has the inner glow
But this life i do live the only life of i do know
And i want to live on for as long as i can
And die without pain as a very old man.

Majority Rule

Majority rule the ancestor of democracy
In Australia does not suit the asylum seeking refugee
The children of asylum seekers to be returned to Nauru by a high court decree
Of a life of incarceration they may never be free
Children to be returned to where it has been proven that they were abused
The Australian Government and the main opposition party can be accused
Of violation of human rights in an Australian Federal Election year
For to win votes in their politics of fear
Government by the people for the people on some can be cruel
This often can be the result of majority rule
Where governments the stateless and the vulnerable for votes do oppress
To be cruel to the innocent defenseless to them a means to political success
For the sake of votes the Australian Government in offshore detention centers incarcerate every boat refugee
So cruel majority rule to some people can be.

Pat Duggan

On looking back the Seasons that time does go quickly happens to be so
Pat Duggan left Claraghatlea five decades ago
He went off to New York for a new start in life
Where he married Lisheen born and raised Kathy Looney his soul mate and wife

A religious man to his beliefs quite true
He lived as a good person for to give him his due
He never harmed anyone in any way
In him what was a loss to Millstreet was a gain to the U S of A

One of the eldest of my siblings Pat as i recall
As a young man never played Hurling or Gaelic Football
In a sporting mad Parish where his was a known and well liked face
He was one of those who did seem out of place

In New York he and Kathy raised their children and in New York he died
Brushing snow from the footpath by his home he slipped and knocked his head luck not on his side
And though he is one i had not seen for years
The news of his passing has reduced me to tears

It is a fact death is for all of us mortals and fact never lie
Though Pat's was a tragic way for one to die
He was such a good person in him nothing bad
For his wife Kathy and their children this is so very sad

A blood brother in the flesh i will never more see
In his ways he was one far superior to me
Since he was one who did not know how to tell a lie
But life does go on and good people do die.

Fazel Chegeni

After escaping from a detention center on Christmas Island at the bottom of a cliff found dead
His past had been a tragedy he could not face years of detention of him ahead
Fazel Chegeni an Iranian Kurdish refugee
Of torture and imprisonment he felt he would never more be free
A victim of torture in his home Country because he was a Kurd
Poor Fazel from years of fear and disappointment became mentally disturbed
For his death on Christmas Island the Australian Government refuse to take any blame
By them he was so badly treated and his death on them a shame
But sadly by successive Australian Government asylum seekers are treated in such a way
They are treated as criminals and for wanting a safer life are made to pay
Sent to Australian run detention centers in other Countries how morally wrong this has to be
Australia is not a welcoming country for any boat refugee
And poor Fazel Chegeni he died as a young man
At the bottom of a cliff on Christmas Island he brought an end to his life span.

Old Warrnambool

Where the weather never gets too warm or cold or too cool
The beautiful old City of Warrnambool
That can boast of visitors from Countries Worldwide
Who travel on tourist coaches from Melbourne to the Premier City in south west Victoria's coastal countryside
A beautiful City with a charm of it's own
Old Warrnambool to Worldwide travelers is known
On all Seasons of the year it has visitors every day
Many from Countries from Australia far away
Some for a brief visit some for a longer stay
A beautiful City in Victoria's south west
Warrnambool to any is not second best
From the nearest regional Cities in kilometers far
And from Melbourne a four hours Journey by car.

Some Birds Sight Unseen

Some birds sight unseen by their song one can tell
And one bird by his whistling that is known quite well
Lives in the fringe of the woodland in the sparsely treed bush
The bird known to many as the gray shrike thrush
For birds of quiet places they are not even shy
They sing in full view of a watching human to them nearby
Not the prettiest to look at in feathers of brown and gray
But among Australia's finest feathered songsters of them one can say
One who can be heard at most times of the year
His whistling so beautiful, melodious and clear
Birds i have yet for to see in a park of the town
To be beautiful songsters their claim to bird renown
They live at the fringe of the woodland in the sparsely treed bush
The birds known to many as the grey shrike thrush.

Singing Legends

Boy George was a pop legend of the nineteen seventies the lead vocalist of the band culture Club
He remains a hero to many including Joe who drinks beer at the local pub
On Saturday with a few beers in he sings a Boy George song or two
He remains loyal to his singing hero a thing every loyal fan always do
Michael Jackson, Elvis and Roy Orbison have many loyal fans their legends transcends the graves of death
And Madonna, Sinead O' Connor and Deborah Harry their fame will long outlive their lives final breath
The Beatles, the Monkeys, the Bee Gees and the beach Boys their music and songs live as an undying fame
and Johnny Cash, Billy Holiday, Edith Piaf and Buddy Holly each live as an enduring name
And in the World of song and music Ray Charles, Nat King Cole, Stevie Wonder and Hank Williams live on in record today
Their fans in millions do remain loyal to them and loyal to them for their lifetime will stay
Marty Robbins, Connie Francis,Chuck Berry and Bobby Darin their fans loyal to them does remain
Long before rock they were pop legends and their legendary status today they retain
As famous as the famed opera singers Bob Dylan the famed singer song writing man
And the Rolling Stones do keep on rocking and George Michael is huge in Japan.

A Life's Winner

Pay no heed of what others of you say for you have proven to be good enough
You keep hanging in there though the going on you is tough
You have been homeless at fifteen and lived rough on the street
At twenty the toughest challenges in life you have happened for to meet

In a factory for the past two years he works hard for his pay
With a one bedroom rented basement apartment to go home to after his working day
In a few years from a homeless teenager he has come a long way
A life success story of the poor suburb of him one can say

His parents and his only sibling his older brother for drug offenses serving time in jail
But he alone of his family the one who has refused for to fail
The hard pathway to a successfully lived life he took on himself to choose
A young man one who has refused for to lose

Homeless for a few years but homeless he refused for to stay
It is true what is said of life where there is a will there is a way
In love with his nineteen year old beauty the dark haired love of his life
Engaged to be married next year they will be man and wife.

Though Fond Memories Of

Though fond memories of the what was i do retain
Perhaps i will never see the Boggeraghs again
Or walk in the old fields when the soft winds of Spring blow
When the cock pheasant in the rank rushes does crow

Here few wish to hear stories i have to tell
Of miracles i have heard of at Tubrid's Holy Well
With a shake of the head i have heard a few say
Just another tall yarn of a place far away

It was the lust of the wander that brought me far south
Of the home of the badger and shy river trout
Where to many i would be a stranger today
I once was well known and did not choose to stay

Though there were other places for me for to see
I do retain the memories of the what used to be
When old Clara was half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And the breeding frogs croaked in every water logged drain

It has been many years since my physical prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
And tomorrow the past it will be today
We must live in the now as the wise one does say.

It Had Rained Overnight

It had rained overnight this morning the sky overcast and gray
But the sun is out and shining in Koroit today
The paddocks around the old town looking bare brown and dry
And just a few gray clouds in the blue and sunny sky
The wetlands and lake in Tower Hill drying out from months of wind and sunshine
And after the overnight rain the long term weather forecast is for warm and fine
The creeks are drying out and bone dry every drain
Koroit like all of south west Victoria is in need of more rain
Climate Change and Global Warming that are Worldwide
Are so evident in the coastal Moyne Shire countryside
For many weeks in the countryside ravaged by drought
El Nino the thirsty one has been about
The overnight rain was a blessing indeed
But of more of the same the Moyne Shire is badly in need.