The Tweeting President

How many more lies has he told today
The tweeting President of the U S of A
With him one lie leads to another previous lies to disguise
And it does seem with him he believes his own lies

Between Hilary Clinton and Donald J Trump for President for the U S voters not much of a choice
For a great Country for the wealthy and privileged they share a common voice
In a Land where millions of people live in dire poverty
And widening to a chasm the gap of inequality

The U S a once great Nation seems on the decline indeed
And of a great leader it is badly in need
Not a President who has said it is okay for men women to grope
For gender equality he offers little hope

If i said in public what Donald J trump says i would end up in jail
It is true about money the power of it never fail
Trump is no better than any of the despotic leaders in the World of today
And sadly he is the President of the once great U S A

We live in an age when lying is seen as okay
And Donald J Trump at this does lead the way
In his every tweet there are more and more lies
And each lie he tells to another gives rise.

Zig

A down to earth fellow the German Zig
His baldness he does not cover with a wig
Of pride and it's side affects he is quite free
What he truly is he appears for to be

Single in his early forties he does not have children or wife
Though he does have a part time female lover in his life
Who he liases with often though not every day
Just a casual affair at best one might say

One who patronizes the local bowls club
And enjoys a few beers with his mates at the pub
Twenty two years out of Germany yet his accent he retain
This part of his Homeland today with him does remain

Though he greets most people with a friendly good day
He is a quiet enough fellow with few words to say
Though not very talkative he is also not shy
Quiet waters run deep to his sort does apply

Of average height and build his hair balding and gray
He is one i see often though not every day
Like some males do he does not cloak his baldness by wearing a wig
A down to earth fellow the likeable Zig.

An Agnostic

The existence of a god in a paradise in the sky
Is something an agnostic does not believe in or neither deny
Proof of existence to believe is what an agnostic need
And she or he to the teachings of theologians never pay any heed
To be opinionated in one way or other agnostics seem free
They only believe on with what their eyes do see
With your words an agnostic you will not deceive
Without living proof they will never believe
Of the existence of a supreme creator them you will never convince
Lack of proof to question the existence of a god they use in their defence
Yet they are not opinionated since opinions they do not hold
For to express an opinion they would not be so bold
And because they do question the existence of this creator called god
Most religious people dismiss them as odd.

On Gillian Triggs

Friday 28-07-17 as President of Australia's high commission for refugees was her last day
On internet comments on Gillian Triggs few have nice things to say
Yet she spoke out for people deprived of their human rights and for a fair go for all
And in those who speak for the oppressed there is nothing small
Is it only extreme and racist nationalists who bother to write
Their biased opinions on every political web site
Gillian Triggs does speak on behalf of the marginalized and oppressed
And those who believe on a fair go for all with her can only feel impressed
Those who verbally attack people like Gillian Triggs must feel it is quite okay
To know that the marginalized and stateless are treated in such a shameful way
Refugees in Australian run offshore detention centers are serving prison time
Yet to want a better and a safer life is their only crime
And Gillian Triggs who in her words is their friend
A lot of right wing opinionated people does seem to offend.

On The Passing Of Gurrumul

The passing of Gurrumul the saddest news for many a day
On his forty sixth year of life the great person passed away
The greatest ever singer of Australia's first race
So humble in his ways he was one with grace

Forty six years in darkness since he was born blind
Lady luck to poor Gurrumul never was kind
But to compensate for his loss of sight he had the gift of song
Among the World's great singers Gurrumul does belong

In the language of his tribe the great man did sing
To entertainment a new form of spirituality Gurrumul did bring
His type of singer to say the least rare
No other quite like him with which to compare

At a young age the gift of life from a great man has gone
But at least his amazing voice on tape does live on
For a better and a happier World to live in he planted his own seed
Gurrumul he was an amazing person indeed

From his physical ailments in his death he found release
The amazing blind singer Gurrumul may he now rest in peace
Among the great singers of the twenty first century he has taken his place
The pride of his Nation and of his indigenous race.

Polish John

Does not know if he is a father only know he has a wife
Polish John has lived in Warrnambool for more than six decades of his life
Quite a likeable old fellow and wise and clever as well
Of his younger years in war torn Poland he has many sad stories to tell

Though wrong things to his Country and to him and his family were done
Polish John holds no grudges against any Country or against anyone
And though he never did spend that many years in school
He is one of the most intelligent and wisest people in Warrnambool

Polish John will tell you that people to each other can be cruel
In the nineteen forties he left Poland for to escape Russian rule
Though his Homeland he never again was to see
He feels happy that Poland today is independent and free

He must be close to if not ninety for his age a healthy man
More than eight decades of memories Polish John does span
A slight trace of the accent he was born into with him does remain
Of his past along with the war memories of Poland is all he does retain

For one of his years his memory is great
Used to see him more often in the past than i do of late
Though i did see him last week walking on Liebig Street
He is one i do always feel happy to meet.

To Your Higher Self

To your higher self you can only stay true
If you treat others as you would like them to treat you
Those who wrong others deliberately in any way
Eventually to Karma some price have to pay
On your pursuit of your dreams of wealth and renown
Never in word or deed drag anyone down
In life those willing to give can expect to receive
On this philosophy for living i for one believe
By helping somebody of your help in need
For yourself you are planting Karma's good seed
Those who believe in living for self only believe their own lie
There is more to life than living for me, myself and i
To your higher self you can only stay true
If you treat others as you would like them to treat you.

Money It Is

Money it is the word of the day
In towns, cities and villages people need it to pay
For everyday living expenses and the food they do eat
The necessities of life for most such as fruit, bread, vegetables, milk and meat
Even clean drinking water a necessity for survival not free
Lack of money the main cause of human poverty
Not much cause for joy among the poor of the town
Life is never easy on the financially down
Life is so tough on the working poor and those on welfare
And these sort of people nowadays are not rare
So many of the financially wealthy are unwilling to share
In a World where many grow poorer for every new millionaire
So Many are struggling for to make ends meet
In a World where billions of people for success do compete.

On The Improbability Of Being You A Poem By Robert Murray Smith

That The Improbability Of Being you is a fine poem there can be little doubt
As it does give the reader something to think about
Written by Adelaide writer Robert Murray Smith a talented poet indeed
Of more poems such as this the literary World is in need

It can be said of Robert That he is a very fine poet
One who ought to be worthy of far greater literary note
In The Improbability Of Being You the master wordsmith he is at his best
Such thought provoking words in the poem he has expressed

For his thought provoking poetry he has to be admired
For to write The Improbability Of Being You he would have to be inspired
The fame of such thought provoking poetry does travel far and wide
And to criticize or analyse such a poem i do not feel qualified

It is only out of an enlightened mind such poetry is wrought
In the poem The Improbability Of Being You there is much food for thought
Written by Robert Murray Smith a renowned poet of Adelaide
It is true about poets that they are born not made.

At The Stroke Of Midnight

At the stroke of midnight today will be gone
Time that rusts iron does keep ticking on
What does the future hold not for me to say
Only know tomorrow will dawn as it did today
But there will be a last dawn for you and for me
Some time in the future who knows when this will be
And the longer you live the sooner you will die
A mere fact of life and fact never lie
That we never stop learning does apply to all
We have been learning from life before we learned how to crawl
We seem to age quickly beyond our youthful elan
And the longest lived human life in time not a long span
People are born and die every day
And time on our lives ever does tick away.

Marcel

He will not be in town for long the man from elsewhere
He has been to many places in the big World out there
In Paris in France he first saw light of day
Where as a boy he used to daydream of places far away
From Paris the beautiful City in France
Where Charlie Chaplin taught the ladies to dance
Ten years ago at eighteen he left home he has not been back to Paris since then
He must be one of the World's most well travelled young men
To settle in one place Marcel does not have any plan
Suppose he was born to life to be a travelling man
One who does not have the ties of children or a wife
Handsome dark haired young Marcel loves the travelling life
Today he is far from Paris in France
Where Charlie Chaplin taught the ladies to dance.

This Does Seem A Joke

Referred to in the media as the honorable this does seem a joke
As the flames of division they only does stoke
Such cynical mind games with each other they do play
So few of them are honorable in any way
The honorable politicians to say in the few
And this is not saying anything that is new
The majority of them legislate for the wealthy and ignore those in poverty
And are tough on those on welfare and are anti every boat refugee
The voices for the majority in parliament you will find
And not many there who are compassionate and kind
Many boat refugees on offshore islands spend years of their time
Yet to want better and safer lives is their only crime
When i hear politicians being referred to as the honorable members i feel like laughing out loud
The majority of them seem egotistical and uncaring and have nothing of which to feel proud
In the House of the Federal Parliament among the members the compassionate are rare
Though referred to as the honorable they are cruel to the stateless and are mean to those on welfare
And though they are looked up to by many and held in high esteem
The majority of them seem cruel in their thinking and in truth they are what they seem.

Material Wealth And Money

Material wealth and money to many the keys to success
Those who have them many others do impress
Few does wish to know of those in poverty
For billions of people how sad life must be
In a Human World where many have to lose for a few for to gain
That money speaks every language as a truism remain
In the Human World inequality is rife
It is only the few who enjoy the good life
Inequality is prevalent in the Human World of today
There is only equality where dead people lay
Those who believe in equality believe in their own lie
Though we all become equal on the day we do die
Money and material wealth to success the keys
And poverty does come in varying degrees.

John Masefield The Poet

John Masefield the poet who wrote stories in rhyme
He was one of the great poets of the England of his time
Born and raised in Ledbury he went to sea as a young man
His amazing poetry on it does not have a time span

There are no living poets like John Masefield today
A literary genius with words he had a way
Surely one of the last great writers of rhyme
Sixty years past his death his poems live on in time

Dauber, Reynard The Fox and the Widow In The Bye Street
As well as The Everlasting Mercy and The Daffodil Fields with the best does compete
Of the long narrative poems of the English language of the twentieth century
A Poet laureate of the people as many would agree

In John Masefield's poetry time seems to stand still
He wrote with a passion and amazing rhyming skill
With rhyming words he was one who loved to play
He surely was a leading poet of his day

The Poet Laureate of England in decades long gone
The legends in his long rhyming poems today are living on
John Masefield wrote of Nature and of the human struggle and strife
And his poetry lives on as his great gift to life.

Time Has Left Her Walking Slow

Her legs that once did move so fast
In her prime years of the past
Have long lost their youthful spring
Age can be a humbling thing

Against the best she did compete
When she was a champion athlete
But time on the best of them does show
And it has left her walking slow

The best athlete in the town
When her hair was natural brown
Tall and lean and beautiful on her prime day
In brown hair dye she cloaks her gray

Her husband left her for one younger fifteen years ago
That some males prefer younger females happens to be so
In her late seventies her best in the now long gone
Though memories of the past in her live on

Ten times a grandmother going back in time
A champion athlete in her prime
The years on her body does show
And time has left her walking slow.

Poor In His Mind

Financially wealthy but poor in his mind
In the World there are many of his kind
Though without money you will struggle to survive in the World of today
It cannot buy you happiness only true to say
The praises of money the masses may sing
And though it is quite important it is not everything
Just look at the wealthiest person in the town
He feels quite unhappy and is mentally down
Because of money he does not sleep well at night
On his face never the smile of delight
And though money does speak every language some do like to say
In life you cannot have it every way
Just like the materially wealthiest person of the town
Feeling quite unhappy and mentally down.

She Was Quite A Beauty

In her fifties she was quite a beauty in her prime long ago
But time that rusts iron has become her foe
Her balance not good she walks with a cane
A faded beauty of memory lane
Kind in her ways and free of conceit
On remembering lost friends her i do meet
One young at heart since she loves to sing
With her gift of song happiness to others she does bring
Cannot say where she lives or anything of her life
Or if she has a partner or is somebody's wife
Recently spoke to her briefly though me she did not seem to know
Apart in our ways from some friends we do grow
Age does come quickly and time ticks away
I hope she is happy in her life today.

Have You Ever In Your Moments

Have you ever In your moments that give rise to self doubt
Asked of yourself what your life is about
In a Human world where billions of people for success do compete
You struggle financially for to make ends meet
One of the poor of your side of the town
Few wish to know of the financially down
Physically you have known of a better day
And time on your life ever ticking away
And though your best days in the forever gone
The will is in you for to keep living on
With the tough times you have learned to cope
And since you are one who is not lacking in hope
Of better days in the months ahead
Since you realize you will be forever dead.

In Her Body Language

In Her Body Language she did not seem that nice to me
But what we dislike in others in our own selves we do see
This is what the experts on body language does say
But then you can make out of this what you think anyway
It is said that one's body language can betray the thoughts of the mind
But then those who look for flaws what they look for do find
The most perfect of people are not perfect in every way
To be flawed is to be human only true to say
She tried to be friendly for to give her what is her due
But her body language told me to her feelings she was not being true
Doubtless her boss had told her to the customers be nice
And she has to suppress her true feelings for to follow his advice
What we dislike in others in our own selves we see
With this old insightful saying i cannot disagree.

The Person You Are

People of all sorts one does meet every day
And are what you make of them seems true to say
The values you live by says more about you
Than your money or your social rank could ever do
Many seen to be newsworthy in their ways small
Their idea of a fair go does not include all
Up the social ladder with your money and the power of it you have climbed far
But this does not tell us of the person you are
For those doing it tough can you feel sympathy?
If you cannot you are lacking in empathy
As well as in compassion which seems sad to say
There are plenty of your sort in the Human World of today
The impressionable masses your praises may sing
But of the person you are this does not tell us a thing.

Marko From Croatia

He speaks with an accent though his english not hard to understand
Marko from Croatia one who loves his homeland
With Ema his beautiful dark haired Croatian wife
And their primary schoolgoing son and daughter his treasures in life

His dark hair greying in his mid thirties Marko a steel fixer by trade
He works hard for every dollar that he is paid
He says when their children are self reliant he and Ema will go home to grow old
For to say love of Country is not real one would have to be bold

Though tall and quite muscular and physically strong
Marko to anyone would never do wrong
Not the type of person who likes to have his say
Quietly spoken Marko humble in his way

Not one to spend too much time in the pub
At the weekends he plays for his local soccer club
All of Croatia's star footballers he knows by name
Soccer will always be his favorite game

Marko a fellow who does not have a foe
Came to live in Warrnambool with his young wife Ema thirteen years ago
But in Croatia they will live their last night and day
Home is where the heart is as the wise one does say.

Winter In July

The sun shining bright in the blue and gray sky
But there is little warmth in the sun of July
Yet in the depths of the Winter of the southern year
The warbling of the magpies so pleasant to hear
The breeding frogs singing in the water filled drain
And the paddocks quite green after recent heavy rain
Six weeks before the first of the calendar Spring
Before most species of birds will mate nest and sing
Far more nutritious to them than silage or hay
On winter grass the cattle are doing quite okay
Of late the countryside has had sufficent rain
And the farmers with this feel no need to complain
The sun shining bright in the blue and gray sky
But a wintery chill in the air of July.

The Old War Hero Jim

His ill fitting shoes have left him with blistered feet
The homeless old fellow slowly shuffling down the street
With long gray beard and straggly hair of gray
His battle is to survive from day to day

The children like to taunt him call him silly old Jim
Though their unsolicited for attention does not seem for to bother him
Of their youthful rudeness he is not in need
But he just simply ignores them and to them pay no heed

When you are financially down you know who your friends are does seem true to say
And he does not seem to have one friend today
Old Jim reached a life's milestone of eight decades in May
Years ago he came home a hero from a war far away

One of the homeless forgotten of the town
In life he lost his way due to a mental breakdown
Life can be so hard on homeless old people like Jim
It can be said war has left it's mark on him

Due to bad war experiences a mental breakdown the ruination of his life
He does not have children or never had a wife
The taunts of school chidren he pretends not to hear
Long before their parents were born he was one without fear

His medals for bravery stolen from him or lost
His bad experiences in war to him came at a huge mental cost
He displayed true courage where heroes are made
But he will never more march in a war parade.

Our Circumstance Of Birth

Does not matter your nationality your color or creed
We are all of the one race since with each other we breed
Though they do not have many friends those in poverty
Since money speaks every language would you not agree
Many are condemned to inequality due to birth circumstance
And of any success in life does not stand a chance
The parents we are born to can define our life's destiny
For billiions of people this is how it must be
The vast majority of those born in the poor side of the town
Will in their lifetimes never know of wealth and renown
Many of those born into poverty cannot expect a long lifetime span
And of a successful future can only dream of not plan
Our circumstance of birth does define us in truth one can say
This is how it is and always will be this way.

Luck On His Side

Struggling to support his wife and young son and daughter on very low pay
He was a poor working man yesterday
On his way home from work he bought a lotto ticket last night his luck was in
Today he is a millionaire five million dollars he did win
Yesterday poor and sad and today overjoyed
Lucky the man who has luck on his side
Yesterday struggling for to make ends meet
Today he is the wealthiest man on the street
Struggling to support his children and wife
Luck it has played a huge part in his life
Rang his boss on the phone this morning to say
That yesterday working for him was his last day
His life has been changed for the better by luck overnight
On his face today there is a smile of delight.

Billy The Shearer

The Kiwi Billy the shearer earns his every pay
He has often shorn three hundred big wethers a day
In south east Australia one known far and wide
In country towns in the big countryside

Billy from the Land of the long white cloud
One of his heritage who does feel proud
New Zealanders as shearers are second to none
His ageing dad Dave a great shearer like father like son

Billy in his late twenties in his shearing prime
His sort the inspiration for the writers of story and rhyme
Mostly due to his itinerant lifestyle he does not have a wife
Though he is not short of women in his life

Tall and dark haired and muscular and full of youthful elan
Billy the Shearer he is quite a man
One who is well known in many a bush town
As a drinker and hard worker he does not leave shearers down

Since he is one with plenty money to spend
Billy is never short of a female friend
Though in any one places he is not willing to stay
For his pleasures in life he is happy to pay.

Some Cross For To Bear

Those who know of a sorrow free existence to say the least rare
Few go through life without some cross to bear
Though time is the great healer as the wise one does say
Sad memories with you for your lifetime does stay
Weeping for one you will never more see
Is part of grief's healing process would you not agree?
From the grieving process mental strength we may gain
But sadly the sad memories of loss with us does remain
Some people with grief are not known to cope
For a happier future they lose out on hope
From their grief they could not find anywhere to hide
Which led them to die in the act of suicide
Those who have not known of grief to say the least rare
Few go through life without some cross for to bear.

Arrogant Males

Arrogant males are not rare which does seem sad to say
Many of their sort in the World of today
Yet arrogance for most of them does seem to pay
As some silly women do fall for them in a big way
Arrogant males full of self conceit
For succes with each other every day does compete
Into self promotion their own praises they sing
Humility for their sort will never be their thing
To meet arrogant males you need not walk far
Quite a few patronize every public bar
They make themselves heard by talking loud
The loudest voices in the din of the crowd
I do not admire them in truth i can say
The arrogant males i meet every day.

Miss Julie

Time that rusts iron keeps ticking away
So says Miss Julie of hair silver gray
In her prime quite a beauty those who know her do say
For one in her late fifties she looks well today
Julie she never was anyone's wife
Her sole offspring Andy is in the prime of his life
From men she says she is having a rest
Life without ties does seem to suit her best
One of the barmaids in the local pub
Julie a fan of the Magpies the Collingwood Football Club
One who does work hard for her take home pay
And about her she does have a likeable way
Shoulder length wavy hair of silver gray
Pretty Miss Julie is aging in a graceful way.

The Man From Banteer

Well into his seventies and when on the beer
In the local he sing the man from Banteer
Without the responsibility of children or wife
A character of sorts and one who laughs at life

He has not been in Banteer for forty five years
But for the what was he has shed his last tears
He says in this southern Land i will die
If i did tell you different this would be a lie

In his seventy sixth year his hair silver gray
He is one who has known of a far better day
A jovial fellow he does seem carefree
And as happy as anyone could wish to be

A retired Warrnambool City council worker one well liked and well known
And looked on by all who know him as one of their own
He would feel a stranger in Banteer today
And he is in Warrnambool for the long stay

A likeable fellow the man from Banteer
One who is quite partial to the taste of beer
Far south of where he went to primary school
He feels quite at home in breezy Warrnambool.

Her Given Name Ann

At the south beach cafe overlooking the sea
She sat on her own at a table enjoying cake and tea
Gray wavy hair to her shoulders and soulful brown eyes
In hair dyes and anti ageing creams her age she did not disguise

I was the only other person in the cafe drinking a coffee
When she said come and join me if in need of company
So i joined her at her table we talked for awhile
Such a warm and friendly lady free of conceit or guile

She needed someone to talk to her story to tell
A story never to be published in book form to sell
She was raised in a Melbourne Orphanage her given name Ann
One with good and bad memories over an eight decade time span

One who in her life who has lived through good times and bad
She never knew her mother or the man who was her dad
Her husband of sixty years Leon died last year
She said his spirit to her remains ever near

In life she said you always do need luck on your side
Her only child Marie in her mid twenties in childbirth died
But the baby boy Timmy survived Ann is a great grandmother today
There is many an up and down in life she wistfully did say

We chatted for a half an hour and on parting she did say
Such a beautiful view from this cafe looking out on the bay
Though i have not seen her since then the memories with me remain
Of a beautiful soul who had known it tough that i may not see again.

This Morning In The Cold Gray Dawn

This morning in the cold gray dawn i heard the magpie sing
In the depths of Winter in July five weeks from the calendar Spring
His beautiful warbling flute like notes floating in the breeze across the sunless sky
His kind warble all through the year and to sing are never shy
In the depths of the Winter a coldness in the showers
Yet the wattles look resplendent cloaked in their yellow flowers
The countryside is looking green as it does this time of year
And every cold gray Winter dawn to Spring brings us ever near
This morning in the cold gray dawn on low branch of a tree
The magpie lark as he raised and lowered his wings was calling out pee wee
In the depths of the Winter a low of four degrees
Blowing uphill from the ocean a chilly freshening breeze
But a bird who feels the urge to sing at all times of the year
The warbling of a magpie a pleasant sound to hear.

More Cars More Accidents

A mere statistical fact and fact never lie
More cars on the roadways mean more accidents and more people are badly injured or die
Due to speed and driver error suppose most things are linked to life's destiny
Every day of death in accidents we hear of and see on t v
On a three car pile up on the busy highway
Four more people died in a road accident today
The police report stated speed and driver error to blame
So many road accident postscripts are much the same
Some families tonight will find it hard to sleep
For a deceased family member in a road accident their sorrow is deep
For speed the main cause of fatal road accidents the price huge to pay
The more cars the more accidents only true to say
And when death is involved does not matter who is wrong or right
A family is grieving for a deceased family member tonight.

Respect Is A Thing

Respect is a thing that has more than one way
That it has to be mutual seems true for to say
How can you respect one who does not respect you
Of sides to respect there has to be two
Respect you must give for respect to receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe
Those who in their words enjoy putting others down
Will never become the best loved in the town
Respectful people by honor do live
Since due respect to others they are willing to give
They never trash talk or in their ways are not small
And they do believe on a fair go for all
Respect is a thing that has more than one way
And that it has to be mutual seems true for to say.

On Real Men

Real men good at contact sports and different codes of football
And real men are burly and aggressive and tall
And when challenged would prefer to fight than back down
Real men are looked up to on their side of the town

Real men go off to Lands afar
To shoot at strangers to them in another man's war
It is from men like these that real heroes are made
And from history they are not allowed for to fade

From the minority point of view i may look at life
To me a real man is always nice to his wife
And is kind to his children and does not drink most of his weekly pay
And need not be tall and burly or aggressive in any way

Some forms of male violence the masses do glorify
And make heroes out of physical bullies i do wonder why?
One has to suppose most people look at others in ways differently
And the hero to you may not be so to me

To me a real man should not be aggressive in any way at all
And need not be good at sport and be physically strong and tall
A real man to me is not a bully in any way
And is kind to others and performs good deeds every day.

The Kind And The Caring

The kind and the caring are great people indeed
Though of more of their sort the Human World is in need
They are on the side of the poor and oppressed
And caring for others is the thing they do best
For to help poor people no journey for them too far
You will find them in camps where refugees are
They help run the soup kitchens on poverty street
Where poor people are the kind and caring you will meet
The people possessed of the bright inner glow
Of a few of their sort i feel privileged to know
To the helping of the poor their lives they devote
Yet they are never lauded as the worthy of note
The soul of humanity the caring and kind
Where poor people are them you will find.

Dick

A cold wind from the mountains blew across the countryside
Dick was only twelve years old the day his mother died
Two years and six months younger than his kind and loving sister Nell
Who for a year had cared for Ann their mother who had not been feeling well

Though only in her late thirties his dying mum looked gaunt and gray
The cancer that had made her very ill had eaten her strength and beauty away
The sadness in the memory remains in him today
She died without complaining as on the bed she lay

Dick is a brave young man and his story ought be told
His father left his mother when he was only nine years old
For a younger woman he has step siblings somewhere
That he may never get to meet in the big World out there

Nell his marvelous sister who helped to raise him died at twenty one
Shortly after giving birth to her still born son
Her grieving young husband Jimmy left town forever more
He went to start a new life on a distant shore

Dick in his late twenties married to his soulmate lovely dark haired Sue
He is happier than he has been for years with one who loves him true
With five years old identical twin daughters lovely dark haired Rose and Kate
No wonder Dick is always happy in life he has much to celebrate

Life does have it's crosses as Dick knows all too well
And grieving it does not end at the tolling of the funeral bell
A cold wind from the mountains blew across the countryside
In February seventeen years ago on the day his mother died.

For Some Of Us There May Not Be Tomorrow

For some of us there may not be tomorrow and for everyone there is a final day
Death it is for every air breathing life form and also for humans only true to say
Our journey in life it does have an ending on our existence time does tick away
Time eventually becomes everyone's master and youth with us does not have a long stay
Money the main cause of rank and class distinction the World's material wealth controlled by the wealthy few
As well inequality has it's main source in money and this is not saying anything that is new
But no matter who you are you can benfit the World by becoming a far better you
If you are willing to help those in need of helping Karma will reward you for the good you do
The one most people fear death is the great equalizer there is no rank where dead human beings lay
The monarch is a mortal like the pauper just one more life for life's reaper to claim one day
Us humans do seem to age rather quickly and brief enough is our physical prime
Eventually life's reaper will reap my way since i am one who is running out of time
For some of us there will not be a tomorrow and for all of us there will be a final day
Death is for every air breathing life form and also for humans only true to say.

Those Who Tell You Different

Far south of the countryside west of the Town of Millstreet
Every day of my life some new challenge to meet
My physical prime many Seasons ago
And time that rusts iron has become my foe
Every day of life i do learn something new
On saying this i am not one of a few
We never stop learning in truth one can say
There are new lessons in life for us every day
Far south of the town where i went to school
In Illowa between Koroit and Warrnambool
With the challenges life brings i am learning to cope
And of a more prosperous and happier future i am living in hope
And we learn from life until the day we do die
Those who tell you different believe their own lie.

Clara The Old Hill

Clara the old hill that ever looks down
On Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra and Millstreet Town
Inspired long deceased writers over decades of time
To idolize it in their stories and rhyme

Long before the first people to Hibernia came
Clara the old hill was without a name
Bracken and heather on it's face did grow
Just like the Clara today that we know

In the prime of Summer in sunny July
When larks over Clara do sing in the sky
People climb the old hill whortleberries to eat
The tiny blue berries to the taste buds a treat

Those born in view of Clara who from it lives far away
On their flights of fancy do climb it today
And they remember eyes moistened with tears
Of the famed landmark of their younger years

Though people to life come and from life do go
Time to the mountains is never a foe
As old as the hills as the wise used to say
This timeless saying remains relevant today

Overlooking the Town and the fields near Millstreet
Of the green countryside where the waterways meet
The inspiration of story and rhyme
Clara the old hill has not aged in time.

Try To Live As Happy

The past is behind us and the future ahead
And the now is all that does matter as has often been said
And it is true you learn more from life than any book you have read
Make the most of the now you will be forever dead
The seconds of our lives ever ticking away
At the stroke of midnight the past will be today
Do try to live as happy life is short true to say
Only earth worms live where dead people lay
You know who your friends are when you are feeling down
For few wish to know of a sad sack of the town
The one who is happy others of wish to know
And her or his friends in numbers do grow
We are born to die truer words never said
So try to live as happy you will be forever dead.

For Me Like All Others

Since eventually we all do run out of time
For me like all other rhymers there will be a last rhyme
But there will always be rhymers since they are born every day
The people with rhyme words who do love to play
Most twenty first century critics does dismiss rhyme as doggerel
Of amateur writers who love writing but are never known to write well
There are quite a few rhymers in every town
Who only write for enjoyment and never for money or literary renown
As for me i am a rhymer i write rhymes every day
But only for enjoyment and never for money as pay
Why do you keep on rhyming some to me do say
But what i enjoy doing why should i give away?
And since eventually we all do run out of time
For me like all other rhymers there will be a last rhyme.

Old Michel

Old Michel often sits on a coastal park bench watching the waves dance
Reminds him of his younger years in his coastal hometown in France
Though in this southern Country for sixty years or more
The nostalgia still in him for the homeland shore

A gray haired great grandfather divorced from Lena his wife
Michel he has led an adventurous life
He has been to many great cities traveled far and wide
Though time that decays is no longer on his side

Growing old far from the town where he first looked on the lamp of day
In his early twenties his yearn for travel from there lured him away
As a boy his dream was to travel to great Lands elsewhere
And visit great cities in the big World out there

Though he may never see the shores of France again
Good memories of what was in him does remain
As a boy on Summer evenings often after tea
He would enjoy watching the waves dance their way to the beach from the sea

The things that he used to do as a boy
Far south of his hometwon today he enjoy
Like watching the waves for an hour sometimes more
Dancing their way on to the sandy shore.

I Harbor No Desire

I harbor no desire for wealth and for fame
That mine would be a very well known face and name
I just want to live for as long as i can
Live and become a better and a far kinder man
Since money and fame of little interest to me at all
Compared to some my needs do seem rather small
I am just one of those who happen to believe
That for to live a good life one must give to receive
Those willing to help those of helping in need
Of their own future good Karma are planting the seed
There is more to life than living for me, myself and i
Those who tell you otherwise believe their own lie
As for me i wish to live as a better and a kinder man
And enjoy what is left of my given time span.

In Fancy I Can

In fancy i can hear the silver tongued rill
Babbling to the river down the fields by the hill
At the start of it's journey to the sea far away
Good memories live on as the wise one does say

In fancy i can see the male and female jackdaw to a house chimney fly
With twigs for their nest from a grove nearby
On their stick nest in chimney pipe their eggs they lay
They will have their young to feed in latter May

The memories of what was with me does remain
When the old hill is half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And the breeding frogs are croaking in the stagnant waters of the drain
The cold winds of February i feel them again

In fancy i can hear the barn owl's harsh cry
On a cold autumn night in November in a starlit sky
Memories are all we do have of the past
And the clocks on our lives ever keep ticking fast

In fancy i do get the sweet scent of hay
In the Summer meadows from here far away
And the dark barn swallows do chirp as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunny sky

Good memories of the past are mine to retain
And sometimes in fancy i visit the old fields again
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy.

Dr Sheila O' Sullivan Becker

For her many achievements one well worth writing or talking in a positive way about
That she is a great ambassador for Claraghatlea and Millstreet there cannot be any doubt
Her autobiographical book 'My Dream From Ireland To America' makes for a memorable read
It is by good example that Dr Sheila O' Sullivan Becker does lead

One of so many achievements and her equals so few
A Claraghatlea person of i only knew
One to my regret in the flesh that i never may meet
It can be truly said of Sheila the best of Millstreet

A beautiful woman with quite an amazing life story to tell
On her ninetieth year of life she is looking quite well
Her amazing story of her life took her way back in time
To the Ireland i knew long before i reached my life's prime

Sheila with her amazing memory many decades of time does span
Married to the now deceased Jay Becker quite a talented man
Cathy and Meg and two granddaughters her family of her feel so proud
She has lived through many Seasons and by time seems unbowed

A woman of amazing fortitude cancer she did survive
And on her ninetieth year of life she is very much alive
Far south of Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town in Detroit in the U S A
Dr Sheila O' Sullivan Becker is a living legend today.

Your Greatest Gift

On the ladder of success you may have climbed quite far
But you are not as important as you think that you are
For when the greatest gift you possess from you has gone
On the day you stop breating life will go on

For your material wealth you others may admire
And for to be like you they well may desire
But since the accumulation of material things a favorite form of success
The impressionable majority are not hard to impress

In high class restaurants with your wealthy mates you socialize and dine
And wash your food down with expensive wine
Money and business your favorite topic of the day
The things that does speak every language as some like to say

One of the wealthiest people in the big town
Your material successes your great claim to renown
Your wife and son and daughter both in their early twenties each have their own big company car
There are not many people as wealthy as you are

Of the material things of life you will never be in need
The power of making large sums of money is a great gift indeed
You have climbed high on the ladder of material success
But your life is the greatest gift that you possess.

Friends I May Never Win

That your soul will live on when your body will die
It may be the truth or it may be a lie
So many believe in a god in a paradise in the sky
Where good souls post bodily death with wings to does fly
Since i can only believe in things i do see
Does this mean that those who believe without seeing are far greater than me?
I am one of those without a god that to i could pray
But each to their own as the wise one does say
If we all thought in the same way and on all things did agree
How utterly boring as people we would be
With my opinions on god friends i may never win
Since i only believe in the god within
The human mind and not a god in a paradise in the sky
Where good souls post bodily death with wings to do fly.

You Will Be Like Him One Day

The weary old bloke bald, wrinkled and gray
You may think he looks ancient but you will be like him one day
When he was your age like you football with his young friends he did play
Like him you too will grow old young you will not stay
In the prime of his life when his hair was brown
Like you he fell in love with a young beauty of the town
The woman he loved became his wife
Six months ago she lost her battle for life
An octogenarian grandfather time on him taking toll
You too like him will find aging is beyond your control
Next year he will be eighty seven in May
If you live to be his age in life you will have done okay
You may dismiss him as one bald, old and gray
But live long enough and you will be like him one day.

The Beautiful Memories

The beautiful memories are with me today
Of beautiful places i knew far away
Just after sunset on an evening in Spring
In the leafy groves the wild birds do sing
Old memories live on despite time's decay
The hawthorns resplendent in their white blooms of the May
Snowdrops, primroses and bluebells on the ditch of bohreen
How lovely Spring looks in her cloak of green
The past may be gone but the memories stay
Of the sun shining bright in the sky blue and gray
For as long as the gift of memory with me does remain
The beautiful sights of the past i will retain
But the now is all that does matter does seem true to say
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today.

He Called Me A Sexist Writer

He called me a sexist writer of cliches and quite lazy as well
With his words he condemned me to the poetasters earthly hell
A poet and a literary critic one who likes to have his say
One quite opinionated some people are this way
But he is not my worst literary critic as this happens to be me
Yet i do not judge the writings of others though flaws in their works i may see
Some people in their words all too willing for to drag others down
And sad to say their sort not rare nowadays in any town
Those who in their words lack empathy the point in live and let live do miss
And such people seem ignorant but ignorance can be bliss
Those who feel that they have the right others to unfavorably criticize
To what they preceive as unfavorable criticism of themselves to the anger in them gives rise
He called me a writer of cliches and sexist with my words as well
Perhaps on his own writing he would be better off to dwell.

Fred And Jane

Jane often complains to her friends about her husband Fred
Though they live under the one roof they do not share the same bed
She says apart from their teenage son and daughter any other thing in common they do not share
Of his sexual needs his man friend does take care

Jane in her late thirties of sex has chosen to go without
Due to religious reasons since she is quite devout
To stay true to her beliefs in one of the great pleasures in life she cannot partake
This is a great sacrifice for anyone to have to make

Jane at the weekend religious services attend
Whilst Fred is at the home of his intimate friend
In name only they do remain as man and wife
But then suppose such are the vagaries of life

Fred in his early forties no longer sleeps with Jane
About him to her friends she sometimes complain
That apart from their children nothing in common they do share
But such things between people are not very rare.

A Very Rare Breed

Money speaks every language as the wise one does say
The people with plenty of it control the human World of today
Three quarters of the material wealth of the World owned by a tiny minority
Just two of the reasons for Worldwide inequality and poverty
Those who say all human beings are equal believe their own lie
Though of course we all become equal on the day we do die
For to meet the very poor you need not travel far
Though these are the people who know who their friends are
And though money speaks every language happens to be true
Your material wealth only says one thing of you
That you are very wealthy one of the privileged few
And this of you not saying anything that is new
And though you may be one of a very rare breed
Are you one who does help those of financial helping in need?

Port Fairy In July

The sun behind the gray clouds is hidden away
It is breezy and cold in Port Fairy today
The hunger of the Season in the silver gulls cry
In the depths of the Winter in the southern July

But the flute like warblings as ever a joy for to hear
Of the silver billed magpies who sing every day of the year
In the darkness of night you even hear them sing
In their breeding Season from late Winter all through the Spring

But the cold and blustery weather the young surfers do brave
On their surfboards they ride evry big shore bound white wave
To ride the waves to the beach few of them succeed
Such a hobby is for the passionate and daring breed

The coastal Town in the Moyne Shire for it's music festival has Worldwide renown
But in Winter it never is a busy Town
In the warmer months from September to May
In Port Fairy many holidaymakers and tourists every day.

You Learn From Life

You learn from life something new every day
And that you never stop learning seems true for to say
And the more you do learn the more you realize
That you do know so little this not a surprise

You have been learning from life before you learned how to crawl
And an unenlightened person is the know all
For the know all has an over inflated sense of self esteem
And has nothing to learn from life it does seem

The years do pass quickly beyond our physical prime
And so much to learn of in so little time
We learn as we live is how it seems to be
And time will not wait for you it did not wait for me

Wise words i remember from decades ago
Those who think they are clever may well not be so
Their own praises they may feel happy to sing
But of how clever they really are is another thing

You learn as you live true to life does remain
This is something that one does not need to explain
And the more you do learn the more you come to realize
That you do know so little this is not a suprise.

Enjoying Cake And Tea

How nice on a sunny evening enjoying cake and tea
On the balcony of the cafe overlooking the sea
The white waves gently lapping on the sandy shore
A scene of natural beauty that is forever more
Such a scene to creativity that the artists and writers inspire
Of singing Nature's praises could one ever tire
I marvel at the beauty that is all around me
The tea and cake i paid for but the scenery is free
Such a beautiful view that i enjoy today
Near to an Earthly Utopia this spot one might say
Every day of Nature we learn something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets now few
On a sunny evening on the balcony of the cafe overlooking the sea
At peace with myself enjoying cake and tea.

Giuseppe

An old man the years have left him bald and gray
He only has memories now of far away
And the town where he first looked on the lamp of day
Where many of his life's early friends at peace now do lay

At peace in their native earth forever more
In the old cemetery above the ocean shore
Where his parents and siblings lay in eternal repose
It is not his destiny to grow old in his hometown one has to suppose

At twenty Giuseppe left his coastal hometown in southern Italy
In May in the Spring of nineteen fifty three
Fell in love with and married the now deceased Kate his brown haired Australian wife
The mother of his children Dino and Claudia and his soul mate for life

On the beach jetty on evening that are fine
I often see Giuseppe fishing with rod and line
A contented old fellow free of conceit and guile
He always does greet me with a toothy smile

Locally Giuseppe is well liked and well known
Since Kate died six years ago he lives on his own
An octogenarian great grandfather decades past his physical prime
In this southern Land he will run out of time.

To Make The World Better To Live In

Though time that rusts iron has become my foe
I live as a better person now than i was years ago
In that i am less selfish and spend less time thinking of me
Some of the flaws i have nowadays i can see

To be kinder and more compassionate should never be a sin
To make the world better to live in with yourself you begin
You can live as a better person by not trying to drag others down
In your desire for personal success on your side of the town

That too much love of self can lead to narcissism would you not agree?
Whilst a healthy form of self love can lead to kindness and generosity
A healthy love of self can make you a better person only true for to say
Those willing to give always receive in some other way

I can make the World better to live in yes i can indeed
By helping anybody of my helping in need
Those willing to give in other ways can expect to receive
On this i am one who does firmly believe.

There Are Things In Your Past

There are things in your past you would rather forget
And there are things in your past you will always regret
And there are things in your past you remember with pride
Your past follows you from it you cannot hide
For as long as your gift of memory you retain
Your past is with you and with you will remain
For as long as you live until the day you will die
That your past lives in your memory is not a lie
But the now is all that does matter in truth one can say
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today
There are things in your past you would rather not talk about
That have sowed in your mind a lifetime of self doubt
And there are things in your past you remember with pride
Your past follows you from it you cannot hide.

On Malcolm Turnbull's Memory Lapse

That Australia's Prime minister Malcolm Turnbull has pre alzheimer's well may be so
He does not remember the name of fellow party member and former Prime Minister Tony Abbott his greatest political foe
When asked to comment on Tony the current P M Malcolm could not remember his name
Which does seem rather puzzling as well as quite strange just the same
That Malcolm cannot remember the name of his greatest political rival seems quite puzzling indeed
A prime Minister with at least a good memory any Country of is in need
Malcolm may not be a great political leader but what makes it more sad
That of late it does seem that his memory is quite bad
That he could not remember the name of Tony Abbott does seem quite amazing to me
The man must have big holes in his memory
It does seem that Malcolm is badly in need of a memory test
And to resign from the job of Prime Minister for him may be best
A good memory the political leader of any Country of is in need
And that Malcolm Turnbull does not remember the name of Tony Abbott does seem sad indeed.

Francis The Pope

He is a good person Francis the Pope
Since to many in poverty he does give some hope
Of a better tomorrow but having said this just the same
The pangs of hunger prayer never does tame

The man who has millions of Roman Catholic fans Worldwide
That he honors his exalted title of him cannot be denied
He lead by good example of him one can say
A leader for equality and peace in the Human World of today

A holy man one with the bright inner glow
But the years on Pope Francis beginning to show
One who is many years past his physical prime
Eventually we all become victims of time

I cannot believe in a god in a paradise in the sky
Where good souls post bodily death with wings to do fly
And though of Francis the Pope i am not a fan
In truth i can say he is quite a good man

One who leads by good example a great person indeed
And of many more of his sort the Human World is in need
To millions of Poor Roman Catholics he offers some hope
But they need far more than the prayers of Francis the Pope.

The Humble

They are not self important and are free of conceit
The humble are always a pleasure to meet
Yet they seem out of place in the World of today
Since many are into self promotion in quite a big way
The humble their own praises never do sing
To advertise their talents is not their thing
In the twenty first century their sort becoming rare
Where so many their own success stories are only too willing to share
A few humble people i feel privileged to know
They are lucky to be blessed of the bright inner glow
Since self praise is no praise is only too true
To the humble of mind credit is only due
Of how great they are you never hear them brag
For self promotion they never carry the flag.

Sadly Not Rare

Politicians, bureaucrats, bankers and car salesmen things in common do share
Some of them are not honorable and sadly not rare
Though some is not all only true for to say
The deceptive few make dishonesty pay
Though it is not right for to generalize
The sins of the few of the majority to mistrust does give rise
Many of the members of the fore mentioned occupations honest in their dealings in every way
Though far too many scammers in the World of today
An honorable person others would never deceive
On being honest in their dealings they truly believe
The dishonest are people who are possessed by greed
And of their sort the World it is not in need
There are many deceptive people in the World of today
It does seem for some that dishonesty pay.

Since I Am One Not Worthy

Since i am one not worthy of literary note
I would not be so arrogant to call myself a poet
Just one who enjoys penning rhymes as i have said before
And everyday to my numbers i keep adding more
Since i am not one with a literary degree
What is or is not poetry why do you ask me
It is the literary critics on this who decide
Their knowledge on poets and poetry to them a source of pride
I loved reading rhymes when i was a young boy
And writing them nowadays i do surely enjoy
And i hope to be rhyming until the day i do die
If i did tell you different this would be a lie
And though my best days in life in the forever gone
A tiny voice within me urges me to rhyme on.

The Loner

He is not a member of any community club
Or he never drinks in the local pub
Where the mates drink their grog and talk of their lives and football
To his sort tribal bonding does not appeal at all

A quiet sort he lives his life in his own way
He does not have a man friend or woman friend some say he is gay
But what his sexual preferences are none in truth do know
An aura of mystery around him does grow

His own or the praises of others he never does sing
He lives in his own way and does his own thing
He may have chosen the life of the loner but he never looks sad
And he is a good person in him nothing bad

His neighbor the aged widow on an old age pension poor Mrs Kay
About him does only have nice things to say
She says people like he is one does not meet every day
He helps me out of kindness and never accepts any pay

He does not need friends one would have to suppose
And the one without friends is also one without foes
But the poor aged pensioner widow next door of help often in need
Does say of him he is my true friend indeed.

You Too Have A story

You may only know of life in earthly hell
And by the judgmental dismissed as a never do well
But you too have a story of your life for to tell
Though it may never be published in book form for to sell
Worldwide in every village and city and town
There are many like you are who are financially down
Few very poor people do live on for to die frail and old
And their life stories post death remain as untold
Most of their stories that would definitely make a great read
Are dismissed due to the poor existence they did lead
Everyone has a life story to tell only true for to say
But there are millions of people in the World today
Whose life stories with them are destined for to die
That money speaks every language is sadly not a lie.

John Shaw Neilson Wrote Poems

In the country Victoria Town of Nhill back then miles from anywhere
John Shaw Neilson wrote poems of the country out there
And Native Companions Dancing better known as brolgas by name
Though long deceased his poems do have an enduring fame

In the South Australian Town of Penola John Shaw Neilson first saw light of day
With words he is one who surely had a way
He left primary school at a young age to labor for his living pay
That poets are born mot made only seems true to say

In his seventieth year he died without children or a wife
He was one who did not have an easy life
In Nhill the Neilson Cottage preserved to honor the renown
Of the poet who brought fame to the old Mallee Town

Despite having to labor for his livelihood and knowing of poverty
His name lives today as a great of poetry
An honorable person one of great humility
The greatest ever poet of the great Mallee

The John Shaw Neilsons of the World to say the least rare
With lovers of poetry his beautiful gift he did share
The last breath of life from his body long gone
But the poems he wrote today are living on.

Why Should I Care

Why should i care when i die whether i am buried or cremated when i have lived my last night and day
Years ago by Cashman's Hill in St Mary's i hoped my last remains would lay
But today on that i feel quite different on the whereabouts of my last resting place
Or if i will be forgotten and none will remember my face

I have had a good life when compared to many with good luck and good health on my side
Though i cannot boast of any achievements that would leave me with a sense of pride
But this to me no disappointment since death renders us all as the same
The wealthy the poor and fringe dwellers and those who have never known of fame

I am in my three score and tenth years life's up and down times i did survive
To me every day is a bonus i feel happy just to be alive
I have known of tough times like many and i have known of worry and stress
I feel happy to retain my gift of life the greatest gift i do possess

I love life more than i do fear death and i hope for to keep living on
For as long as i possibly can live until the last breath of life from my body has gone
And though my best years are in the forever gone and old age of me looming ahead
I will live for as long as i can live since i will be forever dead

Years ago to me it really mattered where my last remains were to lay
But what was important to me then to me not important today
How marvelous it is to be living with Nature's beauty everywhere around me
And out there on the sunlit paddock the magpie lark is singing pee wee.

Ignorance Can Be Bliss

Some people say success comes to us by our choices in life
That it is your own fault if you are in financial strife
They dismiss this thing that is known as destiny
That it is your own fault if you live in poverty
They say of the people who are poor due to birth circumstance
Who of material success in life do not stand any chance
That if they are homeless and hungry and only survive from day to day
That it is their own fault if they live in this way
They are the people who lack in understanding and empathy
Who for those doing it tough cannot feel any sympathy
The people who believe on how you live is by choice
And their's sad to say not a minority voice
That all poverty is not self inflicted the point they do miss
But then as is said ignorance can be bliss.

You Talk To Your God

You say you talk to your god and that your god is great
So is it your god who told you to hate
Anyone who does not share your beliefs and thinks differently to you
Is this what your great god has told you to do
People who have not wronged you in any way
Except to a different god to your god they choose to pray
You speak rather aggressively for a so called religious bloke
Division and mistrust your sort does provoke
A great god is surely a god of the just
And does not instigate intolerance and mistrust
Of those different to you who to a different god pray
And look at life in a much different way
You say you talk to your god many times every day
But going by your attitude to those who are different your god is not as great as you say.

Those With Love In Them

With the harboring of a grudge they never could live
Those with love in them have the power to forgive
They are of the compassionate and caring and kind
Wherever they are at happiness you will find
Those who have love in them have a rare gift indeed
And of more of their sort the human World is in need
They do have a gift that is beautiful and rare
And with others they are always willing to share
They never set themselves up to be anyone's judge
And they could not live with harboring a grudge
Those with love in them believe in live and let live
And they have the power in them for to forgive.

It Is Mostly About Ego

It is mostly about ego and money and fame
These three are quite similar though not quite the same
But for one to win big many do have to lose
And the tag of loser anyone does not choose
But it is true enough if with hope you keep faith
That everything does come to those who do wait
The aspirational with each other for success do compete
And for everyone everyday in life some new challenge to meet
But hope springs eternal does seem true to say
And your turn at winning it will come one day
Every winner does have a happy smiling face
But only the bravest one does lose with grace
And it is mostly about ego and money and fame
These three are quite similar though not quite the same.

As You Thought Of The Past

Have you ever felt so sad that you were close to tears
As you thought of the past and the long gone years
Of the good and the bad times in life you have known
Some say in the seeds of our past our present is sown
The success most crave has not come to you though for it you have tried
And time that rusts iron is no longer on your side
Living far from your children and divorced from your wife
You have had many an up and a down in your life
The years on you telling your physical prime long gone
And the clock on your life ever keeps ticking on
Like many you too have your moods but moods come and go
And time that ages everything has become your foe
There are happy and sad times life works in this way
Tomorrow for you may be a happier day.

The Charming Young Stranger

A down to earth young woman without any guile
Brown eyes and wavy dark hair with a beautiful smile
With warmth in her greeting as she passed my way
This beautiful stranger brought joy to my day
One i did not know of or had not seen before
And one i am unlikely for to meet anymore
The happiness in her she does share around
Wherever her sort are joy is to be found
The sky above the old town was sunless and gray
And the mood of the weather was matching my day
Until the charming young stranger came smiling my way
That happiness can be infectious only true for to say
She carried joy with her and shared it around
Wherever her sort are happiness is to be found.

We Weep For Ourselves

I remember what a wise old bloke to me once said
They weep for themselves those who weep for the dead
The sorrow in our sense of loss we expel in our tears
Though grieving in some it does linger for years
Few do go through life without bearing some cross
And we all do weep for our own sense of loss
But the dead never wake from their eternal sleep
And they cannot hear when for them we do weep
We weep for a dear friend from our life ever gone
Whilst life all around us as usual goes on
And though grief from the mind is slow to fade away
That time is the best healer does seem true to say
To me years ago a wise old bloke said
We weep for ourselves when we weep for the dead.

To Live As Good People

To live as good people their claim to renown
The long deceased of Millstreet and old Millstreet Town
In the cemeteries of Drishane and St Mary's and the West End they lay
Many of their descendants are living in Millstreet today.

Unlike the sporting greats whose names Are known far and wide
But well loved in their part of Duhallow's green old countryside
To the ways of time they may be long gone
But good memories of them in all who knew them today living on

Time does bring changes to every place
Bring gray to the hair and wrinkles to the face
And a lot of good people i will never more meet
Are at peace today in the Town of Millstreet

Though some of them did die in lands far away
Many of them in Millstreet did choose for to stay
Contented to grow old in view of Clara Hill
For to travel they did not have the desire or will

Never more for to be seen in the flesh again
Though in all who knew of them good memories of them remain
With their lot in life never heard them complain
Today mental images of them i retain.

I Tell Them The Truth

When people ask me how much money for rhyming i receive
I tell them the truth since them i have no wish to deceive
That i write rhymes for enjoyment without any pay
It is all about money in the World of today
They do not seem to understand that for fun i write rhyme
To them such a hobby just a waste of time
For anything they do they do expect pay
That money is their god it does seem this way
One reason i do not talk much about writing rhyme
Is that most does see this as a big waste of time
Some put a monetary value on almost everything
And of the wealthy and famous the praises like to sing
But since i am not one of those who could ever pretend
I hope to be rhyming until my life's journey end.

Big And Rugged Mo

Quite a hardened brawler big and rugged Mo
And trouble goes with him to wherever he go
To a brawl in a bar he does never say no
It can be said of him that he is his own greatest foe

The lessons of life to him of no avail
For fighting in pubs he has spend time in jail
He has been in bar brawls in many a town
His problem when challenged he cannot back down

In his late twenties in the prime of his life
He does not have children or he does not have a wife
His travels have taken him to places far and wide
He has worked on city building sites and in towns of the countryside

With long straggly black hair and a fuzzy black beard
A broad shouldered giant and a man to be feared
Yet kind in some ways to those in need of money he does give or lend
And to many down in their luck he has been a good friend

And it does seem that Mo is becoming a changed man
Six months without a brawl for him quite a time span
Though in brawling he has never known of defeat
In over a hundred pub fights he has never been beat

His problem is he will not back down from a fight
And with his big fists he tries to put it right
But there is a kind side to the big burly bloke
He is one who does help the financially broke.

Were I To Be Reborn To Life

Were i to be reborn to life i would like it to be in Brazil
A legend of the World game of football with marvelous ball control and skill
A brown skinned Worldwide legend of sport admired as the Nation's favorite son
The goal from my deadly left boot the World cup for Brazil won

A pin up male of beautiful young women Worldwide and a truly great of the game
As good as the legendary Pele and mine would be an enduring fame
The footballer the fans flock to see the one many of wish to know
So skilled and nimble of foot my reputation only does grow

Far greater than the life i now live with nothing for my time to show
One of the most ordinary sort with nothing about for to crow
You can be a pope or a president a billionaire a queen or a king
You can transcend your reality of mind in your imagination you can be anything

Were i to be reborn into life i would drive around in a big car
A football legend of Brazil and a Worldwide renowned sporting star
Though it is just imagination gone wild and wishful thinking some would say
It is good for the mind to daydream to escape the reality of a boring day.

Jim

A grandfather ten times his hair silver gray
Jim he has known of a far better day
For thirty years married to Glenda his verbally abusive wife
He feels happy growing old without her in his life

Sixteen years ago fore a younger lover she walked out on him
But without her life has been far happier for Jim
Falling in love with her for him not a good choice
He feels happier to be rid of her nagging voice

Since Glenda left him of happier times he has known
And he feels content on growing old on his own
At the local pub where his face is a familiar sight
He enjoys a few beers with his mates every night

For one in his mid seventies he is looking and feeling okay
Jim an amiable fellow in his own quiet way
Far happier now than when in his life's prime
More content in his mind than at any time

Since Glenda left life has been better for Jim
With her caustic words she was so cruel to him
His happy times with her only lasted for a few years
And memories of lost love never moves him to tears.

My Confusion

My confusion at the complexities of human relationships only does grow
And so little about them i can claim for to know
A wise woman said to me decades ago
That your best friend today may be your future foe
Love and friendship due to broken trust can end in acrimony
This is what happens when a once trusted friend becomes an enemy
They pass by as unfriendly strangers on the street
Not a word spoken between them when they do meet
Long standing friendships once broken near impossible to mend
You will not have a worse enemy than a former friend
In anger and bitterness some good friendships do end
This is what happens when trust is broken why otherwise pretend
My confusion at the complexities of human relationships only doe grow
And so little about them i can claim for to know.

A Mother's Loss

Every Saturday his mother places a fresh bunch of flowers on his grave
And kneels and prays for the son who in war did die brave
And though he has been deceased for many years
Memories of him do reduce her to tears
In life she is one without luck on her side
When their son was a child his father her husband in a work accident died
She never again became any man's wife
A woman who has been through so much grief in her life
In her late eighties she lives on her own
The many an up and down of life she is one who has known
Deprived of any hope of grandchildren on the death of her son
There are many lives lost for a war to be won
Every Saturday she places flowers and kneels for to pray
On the grave where her husband and their only child lay.

Summer In Lisnaboy

Good memories live in me as a source of joy
Of the happy times i spend in green Lisnaboy
On Summer school holidays in the farm of aunt Mary and uncle Dan
Going back some six decades in time quite a span

In the sunlit meadows of a sunlit day
In July and August i helped them with the hay
With the sweet scents of Nature wafting in the breeze
And the young birds chirping on the bushes and trees

In pleasant weather temperatures of around twenty degrees
The soft low droning sounds of the wild brown honey bees
In the fields looking green after recent Summer showers
Gathering nectar in the sunshine from Nature's wildflowers

Fond memories of Lisnaboy with me does remain
Where in fancy i often do visit again
And in my nostrils the sweet scent of hay
In the sunlit meadows of a Summer's day

Uncle Dan and aunt Mary in Cullen cemetery lay
And the years have left me looking old bald and gray
And the memories remain to me a source of joy
Of my Summer holidays in Lisnaboy.

You Win Some And Lose Some

You win some and lose some as through life you go
And your best friend today may be your future foe
And who is to say what tomorrow to you will bring
For life it can be quite an unpredictable thing
There are winners and losers in life every day
And for our every mistake we have some price to pay
And though losing is something anyone would not choose
For one to win big many do have to lose
The years do not tarry and time ticks on fast
And good and bad memories are all we do have of the past
The now is all that does matter as the wise one does say
And tomorrow will dawn at least for most anyway
At the stroke of midnight today will be gone
And tomorrow will dawn and life will go on.

The Son Not To Blame

Since any wrong to anyone he has not done
For the crimes of the father do not blame the son
Though his dad is one who has spend some time in jail
For the sins of the father the son do not fail
That the judgmental are many seems true for to say
There are people who judge you and me every day
We are judged for our achievements or for our lack of success
Our unpaid social judges are so hard to impress
They are judged quite favorably those of material wealth and fame
Who in what they are good at have made for themselves a name
Though as people flaws in them are not hard to find
And they are not known as being compassionate and kind
For the sins of the father the son not to blame
The crimes of the parents we are born to should not be our shame.

In This place By The Pacific Shore

I had my dreams for to follow though dreams for few lead to wealth and renown
One reason i left Duhallow and the fields near Millstreet Town
More than three decades in years since gone by on looking back time seems to fly
Perhaps i will never again from the heath on Clara eat whortleberries in July

Far from the fields of the badger and the waterways of the brown trout
I live as a balding gray haired migrant in this great Land of the south
Time that does not wait on anyone does keep on ticking on me
Yet in my daily walks in Nature things of great beauty i see

Here in the home of the emu, echidna, koala and gray kangaroo
And the white long billed corella and the yellow tailed black cockatoo
I remain as a student of Nature her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And every day to my amazement of her i do learn something new

Far south of where i grew to love Nature in Claraghatlea as a young boy
Here in the coastal Moyne shire of south west Victoria learning of her ways i enjoy
I feel lucky in my beautiful memories of the amazing natural beauty i have seen
Good memories do last a whole lifetime and remain in the mind evergreen

Far south of the place i was raised in and the fields i loved long ago
Time has left me feeling and looking older time that becomes everyone's foe
And perhaps i will never again walk or drive on the road between Millstreet and Rathmore
Though of Nature and life i am learning in this place by the Pacific shore.

A Gold Coast Beauty

In distance far south of her home-place
A brown skinned dark haired beauty of Australia's first race
And eyes brown as a ripe chestnut one free of conceit and guile
From the Gold Coast of Queensland with sunshine in her smile
In her early twenties near the prime of her life
He would be a lucky man indeed who would win her for a wife
But in this wintry weather in Warrnambool it is cool and windy today
And behind the gray clouds the sun hidden away
When her work contract ends in September she has been known to say
That in south west Victoria she will not stay
She will go home to the Gold Coast in the early Spring
When in the sunlit parkland the pied butcherbird sing
Far north of the southern City of Warrnambool
Where the Winter days are often windy and cool.

God's Criminal Police

Though in large numbers they are not known to abound
Among god's police a few paedophiles to be found
Criminals disguised as devout who are sick in the brain
The mental scars in their young victims their lifetimes to remain
Some of the young victims of god's criminal police from their horrific experiences mentally destroyed
Have brought to an end at a young age their mental suffering in the act of suicide
That some so called good people have a dark side to them is so sad for to say
On the innocence of children who trusted them these sexual predators did prey
Though most of god's police are good and devout people indeed
And in their acts of kindness and compassion sow karma's good seed
But among them a few very bad people as well
Who subject children in their care to an earthly hell
And even the very thought of it is so very sad
To realize that among many good people there are a few very bad.

Cliques

In the World in every village, city and town to be found
The small exclusive groupings in numbers abound
Of cliques not known to be inclusive in any way
It is each to their own in truth one can say
As most people are only all too aware
The exclusive clubs are not becoming more rare
In their ways one can say quite snobbish and rude
Anyone different to them from their group they exclude
There are cliques in every community and even in every local pub
And there are cliques within cliques in every social club
The inclusive in such groupings you will never find
No room in such clubs for the compassionate and kind
Birds of a feather flock together remains true to this day
And with many human beings it is also this way.

A Great Gift

Such a nice evening the sun it is out
And a mild coastal breeze it is blowing from the south
The wild birds are chirping as they fly about
That life is a great gift goes without a doubt
A Winter sun shining in the sky blue and gray
For the time of year such a beautiful day
The flute like warbling notes are so pleasant to hear
Of the magpies who sing every day of the year
With such pleasant weather how can one complain
The paddocks lush and green after the recent rain
A beautiful sound in the memory to stay
Children in the park playground laughing at their play
It is a source of joy the sound of happiness
Life is the greatest gift that we possess.

Money Can Buy

Money can buy you a better life and home with a leafy suburb address
But it cannot buy you time or it cannot buy you happiness
On saying time it cannot keep Life's Reaper from you away
For you too there will be a last night and day
You may be among the wealthy of the town
But you have your times of feeling mentally down
Your money from you cannot keep depression away
The black moods in you it cannot keep at bay
That money can buy most things only too true
And because of it many do wish to know you
So many become popular because of their material wealth
But money cannot buy you good physical or mental health
And though the praises of money the masses may sing
It can buy you a lot but not everything.

A Hero To Me

As he struggles to cope with financial worries and stress
He feels so unhappy his life in a mess
His wife in an asylum feeling mentally unwell
At present life for him it is Earthly Hell

He worries for his school-going son and daughter of nine and of ten
Sometimes life can be unkind to honest hard working men
He has to support himself and his children on average take home pay
He knows how it feels like to survive from day to day

Yet despite his troubles and worries he never complain
And hope for the better for the future he is one who retain
And though he worries for his children and the mental health of his wife
He must carry on with his battles of life

He has never been to fight in a war far away
But he has his own battles to fight every day
It is not out of his sort that heroes are made
And for him and those like him never a street parade

A hero to me is this man among men
Who works and on his own raises his children of nine and ten
His wife in a mental home feeling unwell
Yet he battles on in his own private hell.

You May Be

You may have been one who has fought in a war
And returned home as a hero from a Country afar
A legend to the patriots in your hometown in every public bar
But this does not tell us anything of the person that you truly are

You may be a pop singer of Worldwide renown
Known and admired by young pop fans in every village, city and town
In the prime of your life only twenty two
But this does not tell us of the true worth of you

You may be the President the most popular in the Land
A hero to many great power you do command
And you make the news headlines almost every day
But this to us of you anything does not say

You may be one who works for an average take home pay
But from one in need of your help you never turn away
Yet of the good things you do you do not wish others of to know
You are indeed a great person one with the inner glow.