From The God Within

To their chosen universal god millions of people every day
In their houses of worship or in their homes do pray
But your god up there may not keep you from sin
For to live a good life you have your god within
Those who lose their god within can have darkness of mind
And become egotistical and self centered and to others unkind
Many people pay homage to their gods far away
And to their god within few do bother to pray
Those with the god within are nice people to know
Though not religious as such they have the inner glow
Every good person helping to make the World better to live in
And compassion and kindness comes from the god within
You may be an atheist though for others good deeds you do
The God within is surely living in you.

In The sunshine Of Illowa Today

Black cattle in the sunshine of Illowa grazing today
Such a beautiful afternoon for late Autumn and May
In the mostly blue sky just a few clouds of gray
And the calendar Autumn just a few days away
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
The warbling songs of the magpies a joy for to hear
The countryside looking green after recent heavy rain
And the breeding frogs singing in every dam and drain
Brown leaves are falling in the freshening coastal breeze
Blowing uphill from the ocean off of the deciduous trees
Though mine to many here is not a known face
I feel privileged to live in this beautiful place
Carrying in the breeze the song of the pee wee
Where the beauty of Nature is all around me.

Every Town

Every town has a sports hero or heroine that the local people celebrate
One who has brought to the town honor as a renowned sporting great
And every town has a war hero who died bravely under gunfire
It is often said of heroes that others to be heroes they do inspire
Every town has a great leader that has become famous and widely known
The locals always refer to this person as he or she as one of our own
Every town has wealthy people that are looked up to and admired
Of singing the praises of the materially successful some never seem to grow tired
In every Country in the World in every big and little town
There are people who are honored with the distinguished title of renown
But in every town there are people that none do not wish to know about
The hungry and poor and the homeless and the financially down and out
And every town does have it's criminals some in prison and some out on bail
They are not looked on as an asset those who do spend time in jail.

Stephen Collins Foster

He was arguably the greatest songwriter of the U S of A
Many of the songs of Stephen Foster are loved and sung Worldwide today
Jeanie Of The Light Brown Hair, Camptown Races, My Old Kentucky Home and Old Black Joe
Just four of the many famous songs of Stephen foster from many decades ago

In eighteen sixty four on his thirty seventh year Stephen Collins Foster passed away
But that most of his songs have long outlived him is proof of his greatness one can say
He died a very poor man without any money to his name
Yet in his songs today he is living his is an enduring fame

Oh Susanna, Hard Times and Gentle Annie his list of great songs go on and on
Such a great musical wordsmith of decades now in the long gone
Yet sad to say this amazing songwriter died when in his writing prime
But many of his songs today are living they have stood the test of time

To the World's great songwriters his name surely does belong
Stephen Collins Foster of Lawrenceville Pennsylvania wrote many a memorable song
That he died in New York City without a penny to his name
For a man of such great talent this does seem and awful shame.

It Is Not Hard

It is not hard for to write rhyming sonnets as many would tend to agree
But most literary critics say rhyming outdated in the twenty first century
To many poetry buffs rhyming it is not true poetry each to their own as they say
What most literary critics dismiss as doggerel was poetry of a bygone day
As a boy i loved reading rhyming sonnets a love with me that does remain
My love of the old rhyming masters till my last breath of life i will retain
We all have our own literary tastes what is poetry to you may not be so to me
If we all did agree on all things how boring indeed we would be
The acclaimed poets of the twenty first century are not women and men of rhyme
They are out of literary fashion and belong to a long gone time
As for me i will always love rhyme over decades my love for it has grown
We all do have our own opinions and as is said it is each to their own
It is not hard to write rhyming sonnets but to write good rhyme is not as simple as it seems to be
As a boy i loved reading rhyming sonnets and my love of rhyme has made a rhymer of me.

Malcolm Turnbull

Malcolm Turnbull the Prime Minister of Australia as they say one not short of a bob
But it is not for the Prime Ministerial salary that he wants to stay in the top job
No Malcolm loves the power and the prestige that goes with the office he hold
He is just like most politicians their principles for power they have sold
Of the poor and homeless of Australia Malcolm does not wish to know
He may say he rules for all Australians the barnyard rooster loves to crow
Malcolm on saying he rules for all Australians with his words he only deceive
His Government legislate for wealthy people only and the poor from them help never receive
One does not become the Government leader by being honest and caring and nice
For most successful politicians for to pay there is always some price
For to climb the political ladder most of them some enemies make
In the lust for the power and the glory big egos are always at stake
And Malcolm Turnbull has quite a big ego which does not come as any surprise
By being a humble and compassionate person to the top job one never does rise.

On Maldon Today

On Mt Tarrengower the sun may not shine today
The sky over Maldon is looking quite gray
The weather changes quickly in central Victoria in May
With the calendar Winter just a few sleeps away
The leaves on the deciduous trees are turning to brown
Some of them tossed by the breeze on the streets of Maldon Town
The warbling songs of the magpies so pleasant to hear
In Maldon there is beauty at all times of year
Of human industry there is not any trace
One can say of it quite a beautiful place
No factory chimney puffing gray smoke to the sky
And the weather though often cool is mostly dry
The low rain clouds over Mt Tarrengower looking quite gray
The sun it may not shine on Maldon today.

Far From The Fields

Far from the fields of rook, badger and gray crow
Where the evergreen rushes in clusters do grow
And the streams, rills and rivers of the speckled brown trout
I am learning of Nature in this Land of the south
Home to emu, koala and wombat and roo
And many different species of black and of white cockatoo
Echidna, platypus, possum and dingo and bandicoot and currawong
And kookaburra, magpie and pee wee distinctive in their song
Once seen and once heard birds you never again get wrong
To this great Land known as Australia they surely do belong
Home to trees such as eucalyptus, wattles and pittosporums and banksias of varying degrees
And the mighty mountain ashes among the World's tallest trees
Far south of the fields where the Blackwater flow
My wonderment of Nature only does seem to grow.

In Human Relationships

They do not pay your bill in the cafe where you dine
And in the pub they do not buy you beer, whiskey or wine
With all things you buy with your own money you pay
So why worry what they think of you anyway
What they think of you is their own business seems true
And should it really matter if they do not approve of you
Do not allow the opinions of others to get you to feeling down
There are judgmental people in every town
You are sensitive to the opinions of others which for you seems a sad thing
Since not everybody your praises do sing
Everybody to you cannot be a good friend
This is how human relationships are why even pretend
You win some and lose some in life as they say
And in human relationships it is surely this way.

May In Victoria

The sun behind the gray clouds is hidden away
Quite typical weather for the southern May
From the deciduous trees brown leaves drifting down
To be tossed by the winds on the streets of the town
The calendar southern Winter begins on a few days from today
And time does not wait as the wise one does say
Daylight hours grow shorter as Winter draws near
And the weather quite changeable at this time of year
A magpie is warbling on a blackwood tree
And how pleasant to hear the song of the pee wee
Whilst many birds are only heard singing in Spring
With some to sing on all Seasons is a natural thing
As Winter draws near to the Land of the south
Brown leaves on the streets of the town by the wind tossed about.

In Your Imagination

Anybody in their own mind can be truly great
In your imagination your own legend you can create
An Olympic gold medal or a Nobel prize
You can achieve anything when you visualize
All others of you are lagging behind
Yes you can be a truly great in your own mind
You can climb Mt Everest or travel far beyond the stars
And be the first person for to walk on Mars
One may achieve anything in the imagination would you not agree
Though this in truth is far from reality
Those without day dreams and the power of imagination are losing out
On what it must feel like to be successful and instead lack in self confidence and know of self doubt
In the Olympic stadium the thousands your praises do sing
In you imagination you can do or achieve anything.

In The Bendigo City Botanical Gardens

In the Bendigo City botanical gardens deciduous trees turning brown
Where from the branches of the tall trees gray headed fruit bats roost hanging upside down
Bats in their hundreds roosting on almost every tree
In Nature there is always amazing sights for to see
The cold and wet days of Winter from central Victoria are not far away
But the park lands of Bendigo do look so green in May
Even in the big Town park lands Nature's creatures reside
That many wild born species adapt well to their urban environments of them cannot be denied
In the Bendigo Botanical Gardens fruit bats are the most populated species only true to say
Roosting hanging from the high branches all year round every day
At night in search of fruit bearing trees they travel far and wide
Out of the City of Bendigo into the countryside
And they return to roost in the Bendigo Botanical Gardens in the dawning gray
We do learn from Nature something new every day

In All Cemeteries

In all cemeteries are what were many good people and what were many criminals as well
It is a hard and a steep climb to heaven and an easy downhill road to hell
And whether there is a life for the soul post bodily death is not for me for to say
Only know that in every cemetery that the good and bad side by side do lay
The Human World is in need of many more good people and not of those who live for money greed
Those who for their future lives of good karma do never plant the good seed
I hope there is a post bodily death of hell and heaven for if not living as honest seems a waste of time
If the cheat is not punished for a life of crime
The person who helps those in dire poverty
Is morally superior would you not agree
To the corrupted and dishonest multi millionaire
Who is only interested on his or her own welfare
In cemeteries and burial grounds Worldwide
The good and the bad in life lay side by side.

They Sow The Seeds Of Good Karma

They sow the seeds of good karma everyday
The people who to help those in need of helping go out of their way
The love they have in them with others they do share
The compassionate people who for others do care
On a fair go for all they do firmly believe
The kind and caring people who give to receive
Selfless in their beliefs and on how they do live
The kind and the generous always willing to give
If everyone were like them the Human World would be free
Of war and terrorism, hunger and poverty
In refugee camps from their hometowns far away
The hungry and homeless and stateless they help everyday
To their higher selves they remain ever true
Yet they never receive the honor to them that is due.

Everyday Nature's Beauty

Everyday Nature's Beauty is all around me
Wherever i turn to look there are wonders to see
A magpie is warbling on a sunlit gum tree
Sights and sounds for to live on in memory
Of Nature things to learn of everyday
We learn as we live as the wise one does say
And of Nature everyday we do learn something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
The leaves on the deciduous trees are turning to brown
And in the chilly winds of May fall on the sidewalks of the town
Though the sun is not warm as Winter days draw near
There is beauty in Nature at all times of year
Everyday Nature's beauty is all around me
Wherever i turn to look there are wonders to see.

On Seeing A Flock Of Long Billed Corellas

Of feathers as white as the new fallen snow
They live to a great age this much of them i do know
Up to a century of years ornithologists do say
Big white cockatoos i do see often though not every day
In the Moyne Shire they live in large flocks sometimes of one hundred or more
Digging in the paddocks for bulbs and grubs with their long hooked beaks almost impossible to ignore
Though they are quite common within their small range
It is said that their numbers are dwindling due to Climate Change
With red feathers around the face distinctive from other cockatoos in appearance and call
They are to be seen in large flocks in Summer and all through the Fall
In Winter and Spring in cavities in tall trees a few white eggs the female do lay
High above the ground from predators well hidden away
Though so little about them i can claim to know
My wonderment of them it only does grow.

Today Old Duhallow

I left old Duhallow but it followed me
And in my flights of fancy i often do see
The Boggeragh Ranges in their hats of snow
When the cold winds of Winter in the gray sky do blow
And in visualizations i often visit Duhallow in Spring
When the male nesting wild birds do whistle and sing
And the cattle on lush grass chewing their cuds do lay
And the hawthorns looking resplendent in their white blooms of the May
The sweet scent of freshly mowed grass for silage or hay
Blowing in the breeze of a sunny Summer's day
And in the chill of late Autumn the deciduous trees
Are losing their brown leaves to the freshening breeze
The snow hats of the Boggeraghs in fancy i see
Today old Duhallow is living in me.

The Manchester Suicide Bomber

The Manchester suicide bomber far from mentally sound
But good to realize that his sort of person in large numbers do not abound
Since the Human World is not in need of him and his kind
Extreme in their thinking and unwell in the mind

As well as killing himself he murdered twenty two young people with limbs torn apart
And left many with horrific injuries and caused many a grieving heart
The family members who grieve for their badly injured and dead
With more grieving of them in the years ahead

So much goodness in most religious people inspired by their faith
But extreme love of their god lead some to crimes of hate
Mentored by horrible role models and exploited by them in the worst way
For to kill to them strangers with their own lives they do pay

Many people Worldwide have condemned him to hell
But they ought to remember that the Manchester suicide bomber was mentally unwell
Those who inspired him to his horrible crimes have no sense of compassion or empathy or shame
And as for him he now is beyond our judgment and blame

These horrible middle east wars and almost every terrorist attack
Has their source in the needless invasion and recent war in Iraq
This fear of terrorism created by some of our leaders in the recent past
Well into the future with us well may last.

They Do Not Hear The Bugler

Though war historians from history won't allow them to fade
They do not hear the bugler when the last post is played
But stories of their bravery under gunfire
To fight under their Country's flag young people inspire
They are remembered in every war parade
And much of their sacrifices have been made
By patriotic people who in their words their best do strive
For to keep the spirit of warring alive
In the patriotic impressionable young minds for to travel far
To a distant Country to fight in a war
To die in war to them a brave and honorable thing
For aging war loving patriots their praises to sing
By the bugler the last post is played for the one who died brave
But he does not hear from the depths of the grave.

An Internet Rhymer

It is only for the joy of it that stuff i do write
And email it off to an internet site
Just one of many who has written rhymes by the score
An internet rhymer and little else more
This is not what you would call a good rhyming day
The sun behind gray clouds is hidden away
Deciduous trees their leaves losing to the cool winds of May
The southern calendar Winter quite close one can say
So many would say i am wasting my time
On wasting brain effort on composing rhyme
Nowadays for any performing rhymer never an encore
Penning rhymes is something i love doing and little else more
For many years i have been a rhyming buff
I am one who has written a whole heap of stuff.

A Former Maryborough Rose

With short hair dyed black and skin of chestnut brown
She sat on a park bench in Maryborough Town
With quite an attractive face that one would not easily forget
She blew smoke as she puffed on a cigarette
A Maryborough Rose many Seasons ago
Till time that rusts iron did become her foe
With many grandchildren a twice married wife
Aging in her sixties without a man in her life
A former Maryborough Rose time for her did not stand still
Filling her lungs with gray nicotine smoke that makes people ill
Doubtless she has good memories of for her what used to be
Not many of her age as attractive as she
The one who sat on the park bench smoking a cigarette
With a memorable face one would not easily forget.

The Avoca River

The Avoca River is not flowing today
By the Town of Avoca to the sea far away
On the grass banks between the water holes sapling trees grow
It has become a river with a broken flow
In this twenty first century of Climate Change
To see a river not flowing is no longer strange
So many waterways in the dry country now dry
And for this a drier climate is the reason why
Without water flowing in any creek or drain
The dry countryside it is crying out for rain
Why the Avoca has a broken flow one does not need to explain
Though the title of river with it does remain
By the Town of Avoca the river not flowing
And on the grass banks that divide the waterholes sapling trees are growing.

That Only The Good Die Young

That only the good die young is surely a lie
For good and bad people at anytime of their lives can die
Do not know or cannot say how this saying came about
But it's relationship to the truth does not go without doubt

The young terrorist died in a shootout with the police
In death he found what he could not find in life peace
His praises most surely does not deserve to be sung
A bad person who was destined to die young

Mother Therese a champion of people in dire poverty
In her acts of compassion and kindness made her own history
The founding member of the Sisters of Charity she died old and gray
That only the good do die young of her one could not say

That the good do die young is not true all of the time
It does not apply to those who murder people a most serious crime
Good people die old and good people die young
And the praises of every good person deserve to be sung.

Love Of Many Feelings

Love that is quickest to bloom is often fastest to die
This can often be a fact and fact never lie
And love in full bloom as a feeling is a beautiful thing
And to the minds of those in love such joy it does bring
But love it has been known for to end in tears
And the disappointment of lost love it can linger for years
That few loves last a lifetime happens for to be so
And love that brings happiness can also cause woe
More than one side to love as the wise one does say
Love of many feelings has always been this way
Those who are in love are smiling in delight
And everything in life for them is going right
But love that brings joy can also end in tears
And the disappointment of lost love can linger for years.

On Dr Noel Browne And The Mother And Child Bill

Back in the nineteen fifties when i was a boy the memories i recall
Of the political discussions on the three major political parties in Ireland's Dail
Our representatives in the House of Parliament Fine Gael, The Labour Party and Fianna Fail
As well as minor parties T D's and Independents the parliamentarians supposed to represent us all

The Minister for health in the Coalition Government then was Dr Noel Browne
The man the clergy and religious people did drag down
Because of his Mother and Child Bill a huge price he did pay
By public opinion he was treated in a bad way

A man in his ideas far ahead of his day
Noel Browne was Ireland's greatest politician i stand by what i say
The introduction of his Mother and Child Bill to the Dail was treated as if it were a crime
For to financially help the unmarried mothers of Ireland at that time

Of the praises of their god the religious may sing
But hypocrisy among the clergy and religious people is not a rare thing
In Ireland in the twentieth century political interference by the clergy with the running of government was obviously clear
And governments then as of now were known to suffer of voter backlash fear

Noel Browne was born in Waterford and his remains with his wife Phyllis in Connemara lay
A friend of the working class and poor people in the Ireland of his day
This great man in his thinking who was well ahead of his time
When i was a boy he was past his physical prime.

It Is Said About Poets

It is said about poets that their sort are few
But this in itself is not anything new
And though many feel proud to call themselves a poet
So few seen to be worthy of literary note
Your fame as a writer may not have traveled far
But suppose you are a poet if you think that you are
We are what we think we are in many instances true
Though some never receive the credit that they are due
Though every writer needed in the wordsmith trade
It is said about poets that they are born not made
So few writers ever know of wealth and fame
Though many do dream of becoming a great literary name
But if you say you are a poet then a poet you must be
Though with what you say on this many may not agree.

We Belong To Nature

We belong to Nature in truth one can say
And to the Earth that supports us we will return one day
Your genes in your descendants when life's breath from you has gone
But Nature is forever and forever lives on
On the ladder of success you may have climbed far
But you are not as important as you think you are
The Reaper of lives will treat you as the same
As the person who does not have money and fame
On some evening, night or morning or day
The one known as Life's Reaper will come reaping your way
Mortality for mortals is a fact and fact never lie
And like the poorest of the poor you too are going to die
And whether we are buried or to ashes do burn
We belong to Nature and to her we return.

Mother Earth The One

Mother Earth the one who does support us respect to her from us overdue
If we cannot respect the one who does feed us to our own selves we cannot be true
The one who supports all life forms supports us for as long as we live
We take and we keep taking from her and in return to her little give
For human greed she is exploited by greedy developers whose workers cut old growth trees down
To make way for a shopping center or big factory in the expanding industrial town
More species of wildlife endangered every day for every new millionaire
Because of tree clearing and land development more animals and birds becoming rare
Planet Earth is for us for to live in and with other life forms for to share
But sad to say far too few people who are environmentally aware
The wealthy and famous are in the news often and many admirers for themselves have won
Though many of them are quite greedy And great damage to Mother Earth have done
She is the one who does support us by supplying us with our every need
But many of her life forms in danger of extinction as a result in part of human greed.

They Call This Murphy's Law

Life for you it is not kind you keep drawing the short straw
Another unpleasant no luck day they call this Murphy's Law
The factory you worked in with the liquidator from them you have drawn your last pay
It has been awhile since the lady of luck has been smiling your way
With a wife and three young children to support and luck not on your side
Any welfare from the government will not do anything for your sense of pride
Tomorrow you begin your search for a job start in a town where jobs are few
But life's trials and tribulations to you are nothing new
When luck it is not with you in life it is hard to win
And the will to battle on against the odds it does come from within
More bad news for you today to take home to your wife
All you can do is live in hope for better things in life
Once again luck not on your side you have drawn the short straw
More bad news for you today they call this Murphy's Law.

The Young Men Of The Sixties

The young men of the sixties where are they today
Some of them forever in cemeteries lay
Some of them looking wrinkled and showing time's decay
Some of them grand or great grandparents and some of them single and childless did stay
Some of them with their one true love for life
And some of them divorced with their second or third wife
Many years beyond their physical prime
We all eventually become victims of time
And as is said of time for anyone it does not wait
And hope is for the better with those in hope who keep faith
The young men of the sixties their best years long gone
And their children are aging and time is ticking on
Some growing old in their hometowns and some growing old far away
And some forever at rest where dead people lay.

Warrnambool's Greatest Sculptor

Ross Altmann is Warrnambool's greatest sculptor his sculpting are on display far and wide
He is not a fellow into self promotion though in his work he is one who takes pride
His stone sculpting to say the least amazing and any of his sculpting not exactly the same
A man devoted to his natural talents he has worked hard for to make for himself a name
Not a member of any group of artists though as a sculptor he is widely known
The best at what he does in Warrnambool and the Moyne Shire one can say of him in a class of his own
He is never seen at any artists parties and his own praises he never does sing
Big Ross he is a humble quiet achiever and true to himself one who does his own thing
A muscular tall and broad shouldered fellow in his fifties one few has ever seen in a suit and tie
Honest and honorable in his ways and always truthful he would not know how for to tell a lie
He does not need to boast his marvelous stone sculpting says more of him than words could ever say
He is not one for to rest on his laurels he works hard at his creations every day
Ross Altmann is Warrnambool's greatest sculptor yet he is one who is free of conceit
He does not need to boast his work speaks for him and a more humble man one could not wish to meet.

Though You Are Not Famous And Wealthy

Though you are not famous and wealthy and seen as a financial success
You are one of the town's more honorable people since others you have no wish to impress
You help anyone in need of your help and you live as generous and kind
And for to seek the plaudits of others you will never be that way inclined
One of the town's quiet achievers your praises others never sing
You are one who likes helping others and self promotion is not your thing
Your type of person worth admiring since for others you genuinely do care
The World needs more people like you with kindness and love for to share
In people like you there is hope for humanity in your words you never put anyone down
A credit to your mother and father and an asset to your side of the town
So humble and so unassuming but having said this sad to say
That down to earth unpretentious people are not the heroines and heroes of today
But the good not into self promotion since goodness only comes from within
And you carry on as you are doing making the Human World better to live in.

Life For Many

Life for many is not easy it does seem this way
For those who have some new challenge to face every day
Where some are hungry and homeless and some are financially down
Not many smiling faces on the poor side of the town
In the suburb of the working poor where many are dependent on welfare
Where the wealthiest person is not anywhere near a millionaire
Many feeling suicidal and struggling in life
Who would wish to live in the suburb where poverty is rife
The people the politicians never wish to befriend
That to care for the poor side of town they don't even pretend
Since they realize that on poverty street few vote on election day
On poverty they do not have anything for to say
It is hard for to smile when you are doing it tough
Unemployed and homeless and living and sleeping rough.

I Loved Claraghatlea Then

The Winters were cold and windy and wet
And the fields often gray with frost something i remember yet
And cattle in the farmyard sheds often bellowing for silage or hay
In the place i was raised in from here far away

But i loved Claraghatlea then and i always will
That green old Town-land in view of Clara Hill
Where i would be a stranger to many today
But love of place until death with me will stay

Claraghatlea is a beautiful place in the Spring
When on leafy groves and hedgerows the wild nesting birds do sing
The cattle out of wintering sheds gaining weight by the day
And the hawthorns cloaked white in their blooms of the May

My heritage to anyone i never deny
But this to most people would also apply
For as long as the breath of life it is in me
A Claraghatlea fellow i always will be

The Summer seldom did pass without days of rain
And in wet Summer weather for farmers no financial gain
In late Autumn the shortening days often wet and windy and i can recall
The deciduous trees their brown leaves shedding in the cool of the Fall

Brown storm water babbling in every stream, rill and drain
And Finnow flowing bank high swollen by heavy rain
But i loved Claraghatlea then and i always will
That green old Town-land in view of Clara Hill.

A Natural Beauty

A natural beauty to view that is free
The beauty of Nature is all around me
A beauty to us that is always near
On every Season and every day of the year
In Nature new lessons to learn every day
We learn as we live only true for to say
My wonderment of her only seems to grow
Yet so little of her ways i can claim to know
The one with incomparable magical power
Who from a tiny seed can grow a beautiful flower
Nature for many is a source of joy
Though greedy humans for financial gain some of her beauty destroy
In city and town parks and in the countryside
The beauty of Nature it is Worldwide.

Arrogant People

They feel so superior on others they look down
Arrogant people control every town
Many may see them as leaders but self interest in them is strong
And their feeling of superiority they do not see as wrong
Arrogant people are not publicity shy
For to be known and loved they give it their best try
Into self promotion in quite a big way
They do like to be in the news every day
Arrogant people control every street
They feel so empowered in their own self conceit
One can say of them they are how they seem
As people who never lack in self esteem
They feel so superior on others looking down
The arrogant people who control every town.

With Ask What You Can Do For Your Country

With ask what your can do for your Country many may agree
Though this does sound quite nationalistic to me
A saying that does have it's roots in patriotic pride
Since so many people for their Country fighting in wars have died

But ask what you can do for your aged widowed neighbor her husband long dead
Living quite poor on a pension with tough times of her ahead
By mowing her overgrown garden you could help her in this way
Out of the goodness of your heart without asking for pay

Ask what you can do for your Country may seem full of insight
But to cynical me it just does not seem right
I ask what you can do for those who are doing it tough
Who are hungry and homeless and sleeping rough

With ask what you can do for your Country many would agree Worldwide
And many who have loved their Country fighting for it in wars have died
But you can love your Country by helping those of your help in need
And on so doing for your future good Karma you are planting the seed.

I Am Learning Of Nature

I am of the fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
Home of the badger the rook and the silver backed crow
Where the white river Finnow To the Blackwater winds it's way slow
As on towards Drishane with a soft babble it does flow
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a young boy
And learning of her ways today i do enjoy
We learn as we live as the wise one does say
And of Nature i learn something new every day
Far south of Millstreet Town where i went to primary school
In this coastal countryside by the City of Warrnambool
Home to corella, echidna, koala and gray kangaroo
And the big dark brown parrot known as yellow tailed black cockatoo
Thousands of kilometers by sky from the waterways of the brown trout
I am learning of Nature in this Land of the south.

Jim And Shania

Shania the border collie sits by the garden gate
In the evening for her master Jim to come home from work she does patiently wait
And at his arrival she barks in delight
At what to her is always a welcoming sight

Though he did have a partner for a while in his life
Jim in his late twenties does not have a wife
But Shania to him does remain a true friend
In their love for their masters dogs never pretend

Whenever in the town park i do see Jim
Shania his faithful three years old black and white is always with him
He throws the tennis ball she returns it to him at speed
To love to play ball games is in her breed

Your dog's love for you is unrequited since dogs cannot pretend
A friend who will love you till her or his life will end
And since dogs to their loyalties and feelings never do lie
Shania will love Jim till the day she does die

Every evening for her master she waits at the garden gate
And the sight of Jim such excitement in her does create
In Shania Jim does have a true friend for life
A far more dependable friend than any partner or wife.

Kirkstall In May

As healthy and lush as they ever have been
The paddocks of Kirkstall today looking green
In the late southern Autumn Winter nearing with each passing day
The weather quite cool and wet even for May
A forecast high for the day of sixteen degrees
With just a few showers and only a slight breeze
Yet with this sort of weather you won't hear farmers complain
Since after a warm and dry Summer the countryside does need rain
The Summer has gone and with her took her wildflowers
But Kirkstall looks lush and green in the late Autumn showers
The sheep putting on weight in grass to their knees
And few leaves yet brown on the deciduous trees
And the calendar Winter is not far away
Near the end of the Autumn in Kirkstall in May.

So Many Would Like

So many would like for to go back in time
For to live again in their physical prime
But the past for us is only a memory
And we cannot physically return to the what used to be
People grow older and time ticks away
And every dawning brings us nearer to our lives final day
The old have their wisdom the young have their youth
And mortality for us remains as a truth
At the stroke of midnight today will be gone
And the now is all that does matter and time does tick on
Of the what used to be only memories remain
Physically we cannot return to the past again
Time it does not wait it just ticks on and on
We live in the now and yesterday has gone.

Old Johnny

Balding gray haired and wrinkled face he is showing his years
Old Johnny for his past he does not have any tears
A Vietnam war veteran growing old without children a partner or wife
He often does say that war has ruined his life
Though this is going back some five decades in time
He was in Vietnam in his physical prime
To have been a soldier he now does regret
And his experiences in war he would rather forget
He sold his war medals for to buy beer
He does enjoy the barroom banter and cheer
Not proud of his war record of him one can say
Old Johnny he has known of a better day
On Saturday night in the pub's hour of song
He is always happy in the sing along.

Old Ben

You may be decades past your youthful elan
And close to the end of the average human life span
But for as long as you are feeling mentally and physically okay
And the Reaper of lives is not reaping your way
Feel happy to make the most of every day
Since you will be forever where dead people lay
Old Ben the oldest patron at the local pub he is ninety three
He does love his beer and enjoys the barroom revelry
A great grandfather twenty years ago he lost Kate his wife
He often says for as long as i can i will hang on to life
For his love of life him i can only admire
Though he too will die for death he feels no desire
He wants to live on for as long as he can
And die without pain as a very old man.

True Greatness

True greatness does not come from the barrel of a gun
Or of the medals you have won or of how fast you can run
Or of the size of your home or your new car
Or of how wealthy and famous a person you are

You cannot be great if to the feelings of others you are blind
For greatness is only of the compassionate and kind
The people who have love in them with others are willing to share
They depict what is greatness and their sort are rare

They are not great people those who abuse their power
Like the weeds of the garden who stifle every flower
On their climb to so called greatness they have dragged others down
There are many casualties on the hill to renown

Your idea of what greatness is quite different to mine
As different as whiskey it does taste from wine
Your heroes and heroines are not so to me
Suppose for to differ we have to agree

We all have our role models one must suppose
So many admire people with lots of money wearing expensive clothes
As for me my heroes and heroines are loving, caring and kind
And to help those in need of their helping are readily inclined.

The Strong Boy Of The Schoolyard

Far north of this countryside near Warrnambool
In the mid to late fifties in Millstreet Town i went to primary school
Years later one who would prove himself a man among men
Humphrey Kelleher was the strong boy of the schoolyard back then

Humphrey as a young teenager full of youthful elan
As a boy tall and sturdy and as strong as a man
Not gentle or shy but not a bully in any way
Yet any boy who tested his might had some price for to pay

Such as a few missing teeth, black eyes and bloodied nose
Though Humphrey as a boy did not wish for to make for himself foes
As a champion young male of the schoolyard sometimes his title he had to defend
And that there are always pretenders why even pretend

The strong boy of the Tanyard grew into a giant of a man broad shouldered and tall
And as a full back he made a name for himself for Cork and Millstreet in Gaelic Football
Michael O' Hehir the famed sports commentator once said to honor Humphrey's renown
There ought to be a monument built to him in Millstreet Town

Humphrey Kelleher the strong boy of the schoolyard of Millstreet in the late fifties is at rest today
He has returned to Mother Earth as some do like to say
Though the breath of life from his mortal body has gone
In all who knew him great memories of him living on.

We Breathe The Same Air

We all live in the same World and breathe the same air
Though life as we know on everyone is not fair
So many are born into bad circumstance
And of any success in life does stand little chance

Yet that everyone is equal only true for to say
In that for us all there is a last night and day
The one who makes equal the great and the small
To the scythe of life's reaper the wealthy and famous must fall

In a World where there is no shortage of fish, bread, milk and meat
None should have to go hungry without food to eat
And everybody should have a nice home to live in
But sadly everyone has not been born to win

It is so sad to think and not at all right
That millions of homeless people are sleeping rough tonight
The people whose praises none ever does sing
For to live hungry, poor and homeless must be a horrible thing

In some ways we all are equal since we breathe the same air
Though for those born into disadvantage life is not fair
But that eventually we all become equals is not a lie
Since we are born as mortals and mortals do die.

A Tiny Voice Within

I have written a lot of easy to write rhyme
Since nineteen seventy three more than four decades of time
And every time i consider giving rhyming away
A tiny voice within me says do not call it a day
Just carry on rhyming for as long as you live
Since pleasure to a few with your words you may give
And it hardly does matter if your rhymes with you die
To say writing rhymes brings you pleasure is not telling a lie
You have lived the most of your given time span
In ten years from now you will be an old man
So with rhyming words do continue to play
And try to make the most of every day
Your best days in life may be in the long gone
But true to your calling do keep on rhyming on.

There Ought Not To Be A Place

The Human World is not or will never be in need
Of people who judge others by their race or their creed
Far too many of those in their thinking quite small
Whose idea of a fair go does not include a fair go for all

For racism and xenophobia there ought not to be a place
There are good and bad people of every color and race
Red is the blood we are born with and bleed
We all are mutations of the one seed

Those among people who choose for to differentiate
Mistrust and racism only create
Love of self and others they never of will know
Since their minds are lacking of the inner glow

Though many with such thinking may not agree
I can make the World a better World to live in by by becoming a better me
But it is quite a sad thing is how it seems to be
To think that the World of racists and racism may never be free.

The Bowmans Of Koroit

Music and song is always their thing
The Bowmans of Koroit were born to sing
A branch of the Irish of them one can say
For to sing and play music with them of life is a way
The Bowmans of Koroit love music and song
To an old Celtic cultural trdition they do belong
To strong links to Ireland their family history they can trace
In the Moyne shire any Bowman is not a stranger's face
Most people in the Moyne shire with Bowman blood in them love to entertain
The genes of music and song inherited from their ancestors in them does remain
Of more of their sort the Human World is in need
Of happiness they help for to plant the seed
For music and song they are known far and wide
The Bowmans of Koroit of the Moyne Shire countryside.

It May Be A Winners Human World

It may be a winners Human World after all
But i feel happy that my life's greatest achievement is small
Compared to the achievements of many of the wealthy whose success for others meant poverty
That so many are hungry and stateless and homeless is not because of me
She or he quite a greedy one the known multi millionaire
Who with those doing it tough is not willing to share
That there are so many greedy people in the World is not any surprise
But that they cannot take their money to the cemetery with them they fail to realize
Since i know i will die with very little money to my name
For the millions in dire poverty in the World i cannot take the blame
Though for making of a better World to live in for others i too some part can play
By from one in need of helping not turning away
It well may be a winner's Human World after all
But i do not feel unhappy that my biggest achievement is small.

Eileen Tucker

As teenagers from Ballydaly to and from the convent school in Millstreet Town
The undulating Millstreet Rathmore Road they cycled up and down
The blond haired look alike Tucker twin sisters Noreen and Eileen
They possessed rare beauty seldom to be seen

Sad news out of Ballydaly Eileen has passed away
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's in Millstreet at peace she now lay
The bell we don't hear for us all will toll one day
That death is forever is only true to say

A beautiful and intelligent woman bubbly and bright
In Millstreet Town often see her with her friends in the Bush Bar on a Saturday night
Perhaps a few years then past her physical prime
And this is going back some three decades in time

So sad for to learn of the passing of Eileen
Memories of her beauty in the mind does remain evergreen
On her life's journey one who did make many a friend
But each day we live brings us nearer to our own end

One of the Tucker twins beautiful Eileen has breathed her last
On looking back the Seasons time did tick on fast
Hope her parting from life for her was a painless release
In St Mary's in Millstreet she now is at peace.

You May Have

You may have a new home and a brand new car
But leave it to others to say of how marvelous you are
For self praise is no praise as the wise one does say
But you are one who does not see it in this way
You boast of your clever children and your beautiful wife
The gems in the crown of your wonderful life
With you self promotion is quite an in thing
Just one of those who their own praises do love to sing
Your sort of person i for one cannot admire
Of listening to those into self praise i quickly do tire
Too much of self love into narcissism does grow
You are not one of those who has the inner glow
To meet your sort i never go out of my way
And i feel glad i do not meet you every day.

The Former Pride Of Hawkesdale

Back in the nineteen seventies this does seem long ago
She was the Pride of Hawkesdale before time became her foe
It is said she lives in Brisbane from Hawkesdale far away
A divorced grandmother with brown hair dye she cloaks her gray

The once Pride of Hawkesdale has known of a better day
Like many aging women in anti aging creams and hair dyes she is fighting time's decay
She was one of rare beauty in her physical prime
But beauty as is often said always loses out to time

Married to a man who did abuse her and gave her an awful life
Though to him she was devoted and was a loving wife
He left her for one younger by at least a dozen years
Love that has joy and laughter can end in sorrow and tears

A woman of great beauty that many young men did admire
When she was the Pride of Hawkesdale a Town in the Moyne Shire
Where she lived when she was younger when her hair was chestnut brown
It was her yearn for travel that brought her far north of her Hometown

The former Pride of Hawkesdale time has left her looking old
When she was in her prime years she was lovely to behold
She has put on a lot of weight a beauty in decay
And one can surely say of her she has known of a better day.

Only A Few

Not every writer recognized as a novelist or a journalist or a playwright or poet
And only a few become famous and are lauded as of literary note
But most writers yearn for recognition and of being famous one day
Everyone need some dream to cling to for to keep low self esteem at bay

Only a few grow financially well off from writing and as writers become widely known
Though most towns and local communities have local writers to claim as their own
In the World are millions of writers but only a minority for their writing ever receive pay
But this is how it is and always was and it will always be this way

The love of writing in every writer is something that comes from within
And every wealthy and famous writer as a local writer did begin
In life there are winners and losers this is how it is and always will be
But why some good writers never become well known does seem rather puzzling to me

It is often said about writers that their sort are born not made
But every writer of every genre is needed to keep alive the wordsmith trade
Not every writer is destined to be famous though most writers do dream of fame
That from writing they will become wealthy and their's will be a great literary name.

Australia This Amazing Land

Of sunshine and wind and flooding and drought
Australia this amazing Land of the south
That has inspired artists and the and the writers of story and rhyme
This home of the descendants of the people of the Dreaming Time
In the home of pittosporum and wattle and eucalypytus tree
There are wide open spaces and marvelous sights for to see
Kookaburras, parrots, honeyeaters and magpies and pee wees
Everyday their chirping and calling are carrying in the breeze
Such amazing wildlife to Australia belong
Birds once seen and once heard you will never again get wrong
That are quite familiar in their calls and song
The butcher bird, whip bird, lyrebird and currawong
Home to emu, koala and wombat and roo
And many species of black and of white cockatoo.

You Won't Win Them All

You may be the nicest person in the town
But always a few in words to put you down
People who look on niceness as a human flaw
Who in their words are insulting and raw

People who look on one who can readily smile
As one who is not genuine and not lacking in guile
They do not know how it feels to be kind
And to negativity are readily inclined

For to help people you go out of your way
And do a good deed or two every day
But not everyone will say nice things of you
Though only good in the World you wish to do

As nice a person as one could wish to know
You are one who has the bright inner glow
But some in their words negative things of you do say
The people who never have helped anyone in any way

Every day you do plant karma's good seed
By helping those of your helping in need
But even you who do answer the one who for help do call
May win many admirers but you won't win them all.

It Is True

It is true that for many living life can be tough
And some find that their best is not good enough
To their disappointment such is life as they say
There are winners and losers in the World every day
On saying that winners are many and losers are few
Is not saying anything to anyone that is new
Before the baby learns to walk she or he must first learn to crawl
And one has to rise again after a fall
Your greatest achievements compared to some you may feel are quite small
But better to try and fail than not to try at all
In life for us some new challenge every day
And for every big winner many losers does seem true to say
But the brave and the honorable always does lose with grace
And can accept a loss with a smiling face.

Every Day For You

Every day for you a new challenge to meet
As for fame, wealth and success with others you compete
This is what living life is about in the twenty first century
In a World where millions of people live in dire poverty

It is a common dream the dream of material success and renown
But on your way to the top never drag anyone down
Though some in their pursuit of material success
What is moral and fair are known to transgress

In their pursuit of money and fame some become ruthless
In their desire for a home at a fashionable address
On their climb to success on the rights of others they trod
This is what happens when money does become your god

Live and let live as the wise one does say
They plant the seeds for good karma those who live in an honorable way
In life every day some new challenge for to meet
And many people with each other for success compete.

Illowa In May

On the last month of the southern Fall the second day of May
The sun at times does shine through it's cloud cover of gray
After recent rain the paddocks of Illowa looking healthy and green
In Nature on all Seasons great beauty to be seen
Nature is at her finest in Illowa today
From here Earthly Utopia cannot be far away
The beauty born of Nature does never fail to please
The cattle quite contented lay chewing their cuds at ease
Illowa between the City of Warrnambool and historical Koroit Town
Of the beautiful coastal Moyne shire a gem in the crown
It has it's natural beauty at all times of the year
The warbling of the magpies always a joy to hear
For to describe such beauty i do not have words to say
You will not find any finer than Illowa in May.

Since We Are Born As Mortals

Since we are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
We are on a life's journey that for us must end
For us humans a last day and night for us all
As well as all life forms from the great to the small
Three score and ten years the average human life span
On average a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
The clocks on our lives ever ticking away
Each dawn brings us nearer to our lives final day
It is true about time it does weaken the strong
And the longest lived human life in time is not that long
People who live for a century of years are of the very few
Though this is not saying anything that is new
Like all other life forms we are born as mortals is not a lie
And the longer you live the sooner you will die.

Some People Carry Their Grudges

Some people carry their grudges for as long as they live
They do not have it in them the gift to forgive
Though they have not been sinned against in a bad way
They will hang on to their grudges till their lives final day

Whilst others can forgive and with living their lives carry on
Without feeling bitter about what has been and gone
For harboring grudges they are not of that kind
They will not allow hatred for to enter their mind

Those who can forgive one can only admire
For harboring grudges they feel no desire
Even for those who have deliberately brought on them woe
They have no wish to live their lives treating them as a foe

For those who harbor resentment one can only feel sympathy
Since they lack in compassion as well as empathy
Those who hate often do commit a serious crime
And spend years of their lives serving prison time

Those who can forgive have a great gift indeed
For future good karma for themselves they are planting the seed
They are not willing for years for to harbor a grudge
And they never set themselves up to be anyone's judge.

By Selfish People

The Earth that feeds us is not being destroyed
By people on low wages or the unemployed
But by selfish people who feel this great need
To destroy Nature's beauty to satiate their greed
In their greed for money more trees are cut down
To build more big factories in the industrialized town
Due to the destruction of their natural habitat wildlife becoming rare
So many trees are felled by the workers of every pro development millionaire
It is not the stateless or the homeless or the refugees
Who are responsible for the removal of old growth trees
For this the greedy multi millionaire land developers are to blame
People who in destroying the natural environment for money do not feel any sense of shame
The Earth that feeds us by poor people is not being destroyed
By the working poor or the unemployed.

Compassionate People

Compassionate people are always helping those in need of helping every day
Without even expecting a thank you or the reward of pay
If everyone were like them humanity would be free of hunger, war and poverty
And a much better World for to live in for all it would be
Compassionate people by helping those of helping in need
For their future good karma every day are planting the seed
For to make life better for the poorest of the poor they are always doing their outright best
For the hungry and the homeless and the dispossessed
People who are genuinely concerned about other people's welfare
And devote their lives to helping the poorest for to say the least rare
For those doing it tough some hope they do bring
And their praises i always feel happy to sing
Of a few compassionate people i feel privileged to know
And their gift is to have been born with the bright inner glow.

Many People Do Dream

Many people do dream of fame and financial success
And the human masses with their talents they wish to impress
But on saying such dreams come true only for the few
Is not telling you anything that is new

Not everyone does become wealthy and famous and known Worldwide
Such success is only for a tiny minority though many for it have tried
For a few to win big so many must lose
We all cannot have in life what we do choose

People every day for some form of success with each other compete
And there is always competition for attention where people with big egos do meet
This is how some people are and they always will be
Narcissism is self love gone wrong it does seem to me

That most people like to be liked is a natural thing
Though so many nowadays their own praises only sing
The numbers of people into self promotion are growing by the day
This is something that always used not be this way

Many people do dream of becoming wealthy and famous and great
Though not everyone the human masses wish to celebrate
In a World where many must lose for the winning few
And this is not saying anything that is new.

The Difference Quite Distinct

The difference quite distinct between a bull and a cow
And the same can be said of a boar and a sow
And most of us humans quite distinct from each other in a distinctive way
This only does seem quite a true thing to say
Most of us humans look different in physical appearance from each other no two quite the same
Two who are quite identical i for one cannot name
Even the difference between animals and birds of the same species one often can tell
On her creating of individual difference Mother Nature seems to do well
Even apart from physical appearance most humans are different in thinking it does seem
As well as in personality that can stem from individual sense of self esteem
Some are arrogant and cocky and some in their ways are shy
Why we are so very different even in our personalities one must wonder why
But then we would be quite boring for want of a better name
If we all looked alike and in our thinking thought the same.

Big Joe

His great grand dad was a Blueshirt the big fellow Joe
In the post Irish civil war years in Ireland long ago
Though the Army Comrades Association known as the Blueshirts were formed out of Government provocation there can be little doubt
War and civil war often causes years of unrest and trouble between factions often breaks out

When the Blueshirts were finally disbanded their leader a former founder member one with war in the brain
Eoin O' Duffy went off to fight on the side of Franco in the civil war in Spain
Eoin in history does not go down as a man who loved peace
For his pent up anger in war he found release

Though Big Joe has never been to Ireland about Irish history a lot he does know
He believes that post civil war faction anger in Countries does grow
Eoin O' Duffy his sacking by the Government to an angry faction gave rise
That Government political nepotism and harassment of their opponents can lead to big trouble is not any surprise

Big Joe the great grandson of an Irish Blueshirt of his heritage feels proud
And true to his genes he is one not easily cowed
In his mid twenties and one of the strong young men of the town
Though not a troublemaker from trouble not one to back down.

I Yearn For

I yearn for a spot far from the noisy street
In the quiet countryside where the waterways meet
By the woods of the koala and wombat and gray kangaroo
And the big dark brown parrot known as yellow tailed black cockatoo

When in the mood for fancy my thoughts they do fly
To where no factory chimney puffs gray smoke to the sky
I yearn for clean air and the quiet life
Where there are many people noise and pollution are rife

I yearn for a cottage in view of a wooded hill
By a babbling brown creek whose tongue is never still
Far away from the town and it's noise and smoke
For to live out my years a contented old bloke

I am tired of the big town and the noisy street
Where every day people for material success do compete
Out there in view of the hills i know i would find
Where Nature reside contentment and peace of mind

I yearn for a cottage far from the big town
Where the creek from the foothills babbles in tongue of brown
On towards the big river it flows night and day
To the great ocean many kilometers away.

The Body Is Aging

The body is aging the mind is okay
With most people anyhow it is this way
We age rather quickly beyond our lives prime
And there is no turning back the hands of time
It has been said that wisdom does come with age
Though not every town it can boast of a sage
You may not always receive the credit you are due
But that we learn as we live happens for to be true
In most people the body does age much faster than the brain
And for anyone this is not hard to explain
For everyone a last Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall
Eventually time does take care of us all
And though the body is aging the mind is okay
With most people anyhow it is this way.

The Legend Of Henry Lawson

In his poems, songs and stories he is living today
The legend of Henry Lawson will never fade away
With words he was one who did love to play
And he did live his writings of him one can say

Addicted to alcohol for most of his life
He became estranged from his family and wife
Writers like he was to say the least rare
With Australia's best literary figures he is one to compare

In his not long lifetime he achieved great fame
Today Henry Lawson's remains a great literary name
But he was one on himself who made life tough
For years he was homeless and lived and slept rough

He stood on the summit of literary renown
But he died poor and broke and financially down
Those who for comfort on alcohol depend
For themselves in life are not making a friend

A marvelous short story writer and a renowned poet
Henry Lawson's name lives on as one of literary note
His amazing stories and excellent rhyme
Have not been diminished by the passing of time.

A Person Who Loves Nature

As one who likes his own company he has become known
When he is in the pub he always drinks on his own
He never criticizes others or his own praises ever sing
He is just one of those who does his own thing
A student of Nature of him one can say
He walks in the wood after work every day
In his early twenties he does not have children or a partner or wife
Just learning of Nature his hobby in life
On the ways of Nature he is seldom wrong
He knows every bird by sight or by song
He has never in his life watched a game of football
Or any form of sport does not interest him at all
His great love of Nature only does seem to grow
And so much about her he is one who does know.

As Most Are Aware

It is each to their own and as most are aware
An artist and a sports fan have nothing in common to share
With those who share interest in common everyone socialize
To see a lover of opera in a car racing club would be a surprise
Variety is the spice of life as the wise one does say
And that our different interests make us more interesting as people it does seem this way
If we all had similar interests and on all things did agree
A boring Human World it surely would be
People of similar interests in their own small groups every night
In the local pub this is a common sight
People of similar interests to socialize in their own groups are known
As has often been said it is each to their own
Car racing fans do not socialize in the town's bowls club
They have their own small group in the local pub.

An Internet Love Scam Story

Many people who in their lives have done financially well
Have stories of loss and of heartbreak for to tell
Robbed of their lives savings in a deceptive way
To vulnerable people this happens every day

This can happen to quite lonely people in any online love scam
With a person they thought to be genuine an online love affair that turned out to be a sham
This does happen to vulnerable people one of which i happen for to know
His internet romance cost him his life savings and nothing only heartache for it to show

A grandfather in his late sixties to cancer he had lost his wife
He was lonely for female company sadness had crept into his life
Got in touch with a pretty woman in her early sixties on a dating site he had joined online
He fell in love with her without meeting in their emails to each other they were getting on fine

Love in his mind it was blooming this is such a beautiful thing
But for him she had some sad stories of the hardships that life to her did bring
One which she had become unemployed lately and her house mortgage to the bank she could not afford to pay
And if he could only help her financially she would love him till her life's last day

He send her thousands in money she thanked him for being so very kind
He felt so very happy to help her since he did have love on his mind
She emailed she would love to meet him but she could not afford the air fare
So he posted her the money for her flight ticket she emailed your kindness is so rare

On the day and time of her arrival to the airport to meet her he did drive
Excited and so very happy love in him was alive
But in vain at the airport he waited and only then he did realize
That she was an internet love scammer on hindsight we do become wise

The victim of an internet love scammer in love often some price to pay
Lucky to have his home to live in he is financially poorer but wiser today
Whether his scammer was a male or a female who is for to say
There is truth in we learn as we live since life it is always this way.

No Money In It

No money in it or neither much fame
For me this penning of rhyme is a hungry belly game
My better days in life in the forever gone
And i must be addictive for to keep rhyming on
I cannot claim myself for to be a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
Yet i enjoy rhyming i write rhymes every day
And only in death hope to give it away
Flower rhymes with shower and bee rhymes with tree
And Ann rhymes with Dan and tee rhymes with fee
Yes it is easy to write rhymes as easy as can be
Anybody can do it you can have this from me
If i said rhyming was a way to earn a living i would be telling a lie
Though i hope to be doing it till the day i do die.

You Got To Be In It To Win

You are feeling quite a bit down lately for nothing is going your way
The boss of the factory you work in has refused your request for a raise in pay
With a wife and two children to support and your house mortgaged to the bank
It is never easy to feel happy when you are low in the social rank
Today you should buy a lotto ticket your turn of luck may be in
Tonight is the night of a jackpot and millions in money you might win
To win it you have got to be in it and you may be the one to win big tonight
And tomorrow you may be celebrating and laughing aloud in delight
You can buy a lotto ticket for under ten dollars the price of a few stubbies of beer
And you may be tonight's big jackpot winner the one with good reason for cheer
Tonight some one will be very lucky and who knows the lucky one may be you
A big win would end all of your worries and with such a big win you could do
Tonight a big jackpot in lotto but you got to be in it to win
You can buy a ticket for under ten dollars and who knows your luck may be in.

Pudsy

She often chased but never caught a hare in Con The Master's bog
She was quite a canine brown Pudsy the dog
Pudsy a hairy farm dog too slow to catch a hare
But to catch one no effort she ever did spare
To tame the anger in the friesian bull she never did fail
She often drew blood to him by swinging from his tail
Which caused the angry animal for to buck and kick
But Pudsy for his killer hooves too elusive and quick
Quite friendly to people since she was not highly strung
Pudsy our family dog when we were young
But if another dog did challenge her to a fight
Pudsy did prove that might is always right
Fond memories of the past with me does remain
And in visualizations i often go hunting with Pudsy again.

The God Within The Great God

I am just an ordinary fellow with a mind not free of sin
But the god i do believe in is known as the god within
Yet i do have the feeling that this god is far from me
Such a god not in the cynical who look at life negatively
The god within is in all people who treat everyone as the same
Who are kind and understanding and never call one out of name
People who are always willing for to help the financially down
Though they are the unsung heroines and heroes of every village, city and town
These are not the sort of people who crowds of admirers do win
But they have kindness and compassion and they have their god within
If everyone were like them how great to live in the World would be
Instead of war and hunger we would have love and harmony
In me plenty room for self improvement in truth i can only say
And the god within the great god from me is far away.

The Past Now Is History

The past now is history for you and for me
We only have memories of what used to be
At midnight this evening today will be gone
And time as ever does keep on ticking on
The now is all that does matter and the now is today
And tomorrow will come and time ticking away
It is only in memory we can relive the past
And each day for us one nearer to our last
When the wild born nesting birds whistle and sing
I cannot say i will be living next Spring
On how long we live there is no guarantee
Since death is for everyone and this includes me
Like all other life forms we are born to die
A mere fact of life and fact never lie.

Out There In The Paddock

Out there in the paddock in the moonlight
The fox she is calling in the dead of night
Perhaps in heat and searching for a mate
She does need a male with for to copulate
She does have in her the strong need for to breed
But for to become pregnant a male of her own kind she does need
Males of her kind scarce and she desperate to mate
In a few days from now for her it will be too late
For her breeding cycle will have passed and she will not give birth this year
Her wild shrill mating cries she hopes a dog fox will hear
That echoes in the still night air in the quiet countryside
Without any success for a few nights to meet a male she has tried
Out there in the paddock under a moonlit sky
The fox she does utter her shrill mating cry.

Where The Araglen Flow

The cool winds of April from the Boggeraghs blow
Above the old fields where the Araglen flow
On towards the Blackwater it winds deep and slow
In the home of the badger and rook and gray crow
By the hedges the contented cattle out of wintering sheds chewing their cuds lay
From many months of eating silage and hay
On nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day
In the prime of the Spring close to the birth of May
The weather much milder and daylight hours growing long
And the nesting birds of Nature are in the mood for song
And the fields decorated in nature's wildflowers
Looking green and resplendent after recent showers
And the hawthorns are sprouting their buds white as snow
In green old Duhallow where the Araglen flow.

Way Beyond Me

Of war and war heroes we hear of and read of every day
Men who shot at and and were shot and at peace now do lay
But never for people who for peace led the way
As if it was not important what they had to say

For deceased people who lived their lives promoting peace there is never a parade
And from history they are omitted and allowed for to fade
Though they devoted their lives in promoting peace and harmony
And that they are not remembered seems puzzling to me

We do not condone violence yet war men we celebrate
Seems puzzling to me how between different forms of violence we can differentiate
As if some forms of violence is praiseworthy and justifiable and okay
Why we make great heroes out of warriors beyond me anyway

Every war more war heroes always does create
Yet those who lived their lives promoting peace we never celebrate
I often do wonder why this has to be
And an explanation for this does seem way beyond me.

Where I First Looked

Where i first looked on the lamp of day
In distance from there i now live far away
Claraghatlea my first home place near the Town of Millstreet
In the green countryside where the waterways meet

But in my visualizations i hear and i see
The red breasted robin on a leafy birch tree
Singing his familiar song in the twilight gray
Just after sundown on a balmy evening in May

Where mine years ago was a familiar face
Today i would be a stranger to many in my first home place
I have not been there for thirty years that seems a long time
And i am many decades past my physical prime

I used to say i would go home for to grow old and die
But for now to say this may well be a lie
Since i no longer yearn for the what used to be
It does seem that nostalgia it has died in me

Far south of Millstreet Town where i went to Primary school
In this coastal countryside by the City of Warrnambool
I have found contentment in my twilight years
And for the what used to be i have shed my last tears.

It Is Said That All Things

It is said that all things come to those who do wait
That you will know of good times if with hope you keep faith
Life has it's up and down days as the wise one does say
Though good times from you may not be far away
It is true that the children of the lesser gods
Are born into life for to battle the odds
Where many are homeless and financially down
Eighty per cent unemployment on the poor side of the town
Where the crime rate is high and many are doing it tough
And know all about how it feels like to sleep rough
But that hope springs eternal as ever remains true
And for those who keep positive change for the better may be due
And often change for the better comes to those who do wait
Who in their tough times with hope does keep faith.

There Are Days

There are days you have nothing for to write about
And your worth as a writer you question and doubt
Just one of those days you feel mentally tired
That to write anything you cannot feel inspired
Call this writers block or call it what you may
It is hard for a writer for to write every day
Some famous writers of writers block have known
That they have days they cannot write to they do own
On saying self confident writers in numbers are few
Is not saying in truth anything that is new
As writers they do not improve those who their own praises do sing
As over confidence for self improvement is not a good thing
There are days for to write you cannot feel inspired
That your mind is closed to inspiration and you feel mentally tired.

Mary Flaherty

Such sad news out of Ballydaly on this morning in May
The beautiful Mary Flaherty from life has passed away
As a Murphy of Ballydaly she began her journey in life
Before she met her life partner Michael Flaherty and became his wife

A woman of great beauty without guile or conceit
The charming Mary Flaherty was always a joy to meet
One loved by her family and the friends she had made over the years
In St Mary's Cemetery by Cashman's Hill she was farewelled in tears

Though the life from her mortal body has gone
In all who knew and knew of Mary she is living on
People like her to live as better people others inspire
She was one who was so easy to admire

And surely the praises deserve to be sung
Of Ballydaly's finest when i was young
For she was quite beautiful in her life's prime
But beauty does always fall victim to time

For all of us there is a last night and day
But for her passing Ballydaly all of the poorer one can say
In her lifetime her friends in numbers had grown
And in Ballydaly they mourn for the passing of one of their own

The heart that beat with kindness forever is still
In the quiet of St Mary's by Cashman's old hill
Hope her parting from life was a painless release
The beautiful Mary Flaherty she now is at peace.

For To Agree On All Things

We all view success in our ways differently
The one who is successful to you may not be so to me
But then how utterly boring indeed we would be
If on all and everything we did agree
I only can quote from the words of the wise
That we all look at others through different eyes
Though this is not saying anything that is new
It is easy to judge the judgmental not few
There are many aspirational people in every town
This thing known as success is linked to wealth and renown
Though losing is something anyone does not choose
For a few for to win many have to lose
But the one who is successful to me may not be so to you
For to agree on all things there are not any two.

Life For You

You may feel the World is against you since nothing for you is going right
And life for you is a great battle every day with your demons you fight
Without a job and little prospect of such in a high unemployment town
A smile from your face seems far distant when you are financially and mentally down
Life can be a battle for some true to say
But for those born lucky it is never this way
You were not born lucky your parents live in poverty
Hard times seem to be part of your family
You are one with poor days who has learned to cope
And your positive attitude does not leave you without hope
Of far better thing in life of you ahead
There is always some light in the mind where hope is not dead
In your late twenties without any children a partner or wife
You struggle along on your roadway of life.

In Koroit Today

The low clouds of rain over Tower Hill are gray
It is raining in drizzles in Koroit today
The countryside by the old Town looks green overall
On the last week of April in the southern Fall
The Summer long over as Winter draws near
Yet the songs of the magpies are pleasant to hear
The beautiful warbling distinctive and clear
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
Most of the shops closed in Koroit Town today
On Sundays in most rural towns it is often this way
Especially on a day that is gray with rain
Though after the recent spell of dry weather few with this could complain
And though rain drizzling down from low clouds of gray
The magpies are singing in Koroit today.

Many Of Us Humans Aggressive

Many of us humans aggressive by nature to say different would be to pretend
We are not that different to birds and animals in that with violence our borders we defend
Yet we never learn from war history mistakes of the past we repeat
In violence there are never winners where peace has lost there is only defeat
Every day on radio news of war and violence and terror and of people dying in a horrible way
That there cannot be peace where there is violence and this seems a sad thing to say
Wars for borders and religion and culture will warring ever come to an end?
Being angry and violent and aggressive will never win for you a friend
The people at peace with each other are quite lucky people indeed
For a better World to live in they are helping for to plant the seed
Some will tell you that war can bring about peace but for peace this is a huge price to pay
When people are killed or badly injured in war zones and rendered homeless and stateless every day
Many of us humans are violent and aggressive and we like to celebrate heroes of war
And men for to fight bloody battles have been known for to travel far.

Familiar Birds To All Australians

The black and white Australian feathered minstrels birds with a silvery bill
Small birds, amphibians and small animals they have been known for to kill
They are known as Australian magpies or otherwise piping shrike
As birds they are quite territorial without any real look alike
The warbling songsters of all Seasons they sing every day of the year
From late Winter to late Spring when they are breeding at night singing one often them does hear
Crow sized towards other birds and even their own kind they are aggressive their territories they fight to defend
When they are nesting they even attack humans none other they wish to befriend
Familiar birds to all Australians every day them one does hear and see
Distinctive in their unmistakable warbling often on higher branch of a tall tree
They live in small family groups and often among each other they do disagree
I have often witnessed magpies fighting a sight that is familiar to me
As wild birds they are not the gentlest but they have a beautiful song
Once seen and once heard unmistakable you never again get them wrong.

Our Reflective Mirrors

Some of our political leaders in the Human World of today
Reflect poorly on us in truth one can say
Ignoring global warming and talking of war
How stupid do they think that all of us are?
Such negative stuff from them is all we do hear
Of terrorists and terrorism spreading and broadcasting fear
Which may help them to be reelected on election day
In politics fear mongering never fails for to pay
Nationalism, patriotism, religion, race and culture causing problems Worldwide
And so many losing out in the social divide
The wealthy getting wealthier at poor people's expense
It does seem hard for to make out of this any sense
Even though in their words we know us they deceive
In the politicians we elect to parliament we deserve what we receive.

The Rose Of Macroom

I knew of her when she was in her life's full bloom
In her early twenties the Rose of Macroom
With brown eyes and wavy shoulder length hair of brown
A woman of quite rare beauty of the old mid Cork Town

In the early sixties long before i reached my life's prime
And this is going back many Seasons in time
In the weekend in the Castle Ballroom she danced her cares if she had any away
I wonder if she is still living today?

And fell in love and in Macroom did stay
As an aging grandmother who in hair dye cloaks her gray
Or from the Town in Muskerry is she one more
Who will live out her days on a distant shore

A down to earth young woman untainted by guile
With the warmth of kindness in her beautiful smile
She was one who did have the bright inner glow
In the old mid Cork Town where Sullane waters flow

Though often in fancy i visit the what was again
Of the past only memories with us do remain
And in the Castle Ballroom in her life's bloom
She smiles as she dances the Rose of Macroom.

Big Billy

Big Billy a big man with little to say
But not the type one with mind games ought to play
He is not a bully and all bullies he hate
And all of those who are bullied look to him as a mate

With a huge mop of black hair and a bushy black beard
Big Billy a big man who by local bullies is feared
A barrel chested fellow broad shouldered and tall
Beside him other local big men do look rather small

Single with a casual girl friend but without a partner or wife
In his twenty sixth year in the prime of his life
As a member of any grouping or club he is one who is not known
When in the local pub he always does drink on his own

Since he is one who would never deliberately harm anyone
His mum and his dad in him raised a good son
But having this said he is one not to be pushed around
And anyone who has challenged him has quickly hit the ground

He is not a fan of any sports and this includes football
This colossus of a man who is broad shouldered and tall
Yet despite his fearsome appearance he is compassionate and kind
And to help anyone who is in need of helping he is always readily inclined.

Addicted To Rhyming

Everyday rhymes come to me i just write them down
But never for money or literary renown
Among the rhyming sort not one to the fore
I just write for enjoyment and little else more

Years ago i used to daydream that i would be a poet
One looked on as worthy of literary note
But literary success for me now seem further away
Than it used to be in a long bygone day

Writing rhymes is an enjoyable hobby to me
Something i have been doing since nineteen seventy three
Though to show for it not any literary success
It has brought to me so much happiness

Though losing is something anyone does not choose
In life for some to win others do have to lose
Writing rhymes has brought happy moments to me
Though i seem out of date in the twenty first century

I am one of those who writes rhymes every day
But never for money or for monetary pay
Addicted to rhyming i feel i must be
It was my love of rhyme made a rhymer of me.

The Waterway

The waterway with it's source At the foot of the hill
Which flows with a babbling tongue that is never still
That grows to a river on it's sea going way
And flows on forever by night and by day
The waterways were flowing for thousands of centuries before the birth of the first woman and man
Do not have in them any given time span
They have flowed forever and will forever more
From the foot of the hill to the far ocean shore
Like Nature's Seasons people to life come and from life do go
And of most air breathing life forms time does become the foe
But the waterways from the high ground that to big rivers do grow
Do not have a time span and forever will flow
With tongues ever babbling by night and by day
On their meandering journeys to the sea far away.

It Seems Lady Luck

It seems lady luck is not with you today
As nothing at all it is going your way
The boss has refused you your request for a raise in pay
On good or bad fortune one does not have a say
That life can be a bugger why otherwise pretend
Your passionate love affair has come to an end
But things can only get better as has often been said
And better days of you may well be ahead
Underpaid and overworked you are one of those
That high unemployment is good for employers one has to suppose
When you ask for a raise the boss always tells you
There are plenty for the same pay willing to do the work you do
You did not get your wished for pay raise and your love affair did end
life is not always easy why otherwise pretend.

The Gene Of Survival

People for success with each other compete every day
This is how it is and will be and and has always been this way
Call it the survival gene in us humans or call it what you may
On how we live and behave Nature does have a say
The gene of survival that makes us compete
To be the best in our neighborhood and best on our street
And makes us dream of being best in the World of all others ahead
And be remembered for centuries as a great like all of the legendary long dead
It is our gene of survival gives us sexual drive
That through our offspring our d n a will survive
Well into the future when the last breath of life from us has gone
Our genes in our descendants will be living on
To be best in the World begins with the desire to be best on our street
It is the gene of survival that makes us with each other compete.

It Was My Love Of Travel

So many things in Nature for to write rhymes about
In this varied and wonderful Land of the south
A Land of many colors and amazing scenery
I can only marvel at the beauty every day around me

Australia's first people with a history so old in time
Their legends have inspired song, story and rhyme
Their great love of their Country one can understand
Since their ancestors had lived for so long in this southern Land

A Land where in all Seasons natural beauty is to be seen
In some areas the brown paddocks of Summer and Autumn in Winter turn green
In the flat and sparsely populated outback that most times look brown
There are hundreds of kilometers of roadways between every town

With flora and fauna quite amazing to see
Home of pittosporum and wattles and various types of eucalypt tree
Home of emu, koala and wombat and kangaroo
And various species of honeyeater and cockatoo

I have loved Mother Nature since i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
From the fields of the badger and the streams of the brown trout
It was my love of travel that brought me this far south.

Pride It Is Another Word

Pride it is another word for conceit
And every day proud people i happen for to meet
Proud of their children and proud of their wives
And so very proud of their marvelous lives
Proud of their job promotion and raise in pay
These sort of people one does meet every day
Self absorbed and egotistical of them one can say
Their sort to meet i would never go out of my way
Those with over inflated egos are not of the few
Of this i am not saying anything that is new
Self promotion nowadays does seem the in thing
So many their own praises only too willing to sing
Pride it is another word for conceit
And every day proud people i happen for to meet.

Mrs Kadge's Son

Mrs Kadge feels so proud of her son Ed
A framed picture of him and her husband Andy hanging over her bed
Taken on his graduation day going back five years or so
In real time this does not seem that long ago

In his monthly phone call to her Ed who lives in a far away town
Tells her he is a medical doctor helping people in health feeling down
To her neighbors on her son she does heap praise
And often tells them of what a good boy she and his late father did raise

But on his phone calls to her Ed never mentions that he is in jail
As one of those that the test of lawful living did fail
For drug trafficking serving six years of prison time
Which is looked on as a serious federal crime

The only truth she knows of him is that he lives far away
But he never tells her he is in jail today
If she knew he was in prison she would feel mortified
The reason from her that the truth he does hide

Mrs Kadge of her son Ed does feel rather proud
And in public feels happy to sing his praises loud
But she would not be in the mood for boasting if she knew where he is today
What we do not know does not bother us as the wise one does say.

Egotistical Bullies

The U S President who has the surname of Trump
To keep his ego inflated he does not need a pump
His brain is one big egotistical lump
When he bellows an order he expects his subordinates to jump
A billionaire so full of himself and full of self conceit
Yet the one many important people wish to meet
Why bullies like he is such great power does command
Is something i do struggle to understand
In their President the egotistical Putin the Russians have another dangerous bloke
So many dangerous narcissistic people like these two only the fires of war do stoke
With enough nuclear weapons at their disposal all of humanity to destroy
The thought of the damage they can do is not a source for joy
On their climb to success and ultimate power
Egotistical bullies have been known to crush many a flower.

Some Men

Some men are burly, broad shouldered and tall
And some men slightly built on the side of small
And some men in their ways one might say quite rough
And some men are arrogant and like to act tough

All sorts of men in the World of today
Men are heterosexual, bisexual and gay
To their partners or spouses not all men faithful stay
But then of women the same one can say

Some men think they are a gift to woman kind
To others they do feel superior in their own mind
Narcissistic in their ways is how they do seem
And very much superior in their own sense of high self esteem

Some men are caring and compassionate and kind
And to the helping of those doing it tough are readily inclined
Of people they are indeed a special breed
And of more of their sort the Human World is in need

Some women will tell you all men are the same
And for most of the sins against females that males are to blame
And like you will find decaying trees in most every wood
Not all men are bad and not all women are good.

Willy Wagtails

In Australian paddocks and town parks and gardens quite a common sight
Willy wagtails also known as Australian nightingales since they sometimes sing at night
Of humans they never show any great fear
Before they fly off them you can approach near
Familiar Australians to be seen Nationwide
In city and town parks and paddocks of the countryside
Black and white feathers Australians with ways of their own
For their cockiness and bravery they are widely known
Their long black tails they always do wag to and fro
It is said their way of flushing insects to catch this well may be so
Territorial and aggressive and quite brave for their size
I have often seen them mobbing far bigger birds like crows and magpies
Indigenous feathered Australians they live Nationwide
In city and town parks and in the countryside.

Three Decades Ago

Three decades ago on leaving Erin's shore
I never realized then that i may never more
On a Summer's evening stand on Clara overlooking the Town of Millstreet
And admire the green countryside where North Cork and East Kerry meet
Since i left old Duhallow change has also come with the years
And for the what used to be i have shed my last tears
Though i never back then thought i would be so long away
From the places i loved where i first saw light of day
My journey from Duhallow took me to places elsewhere
To live and to travel in the big World out there
Only memories of what was i have to retain
Of places i loved i may not see again
It was my love of adventure made a traveler of me
Though a Claraghatlea fellow i always will be.