Margaret Cullen

A fifteen minutes walk from where she first saw light of day
By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's her last remains lay
Margaret Corcoran of Pound Hill who raised her family
As Mrs Charlie Cullen of Kerins Park Tralee
Where she was born and raised and was loved and well known
Margaret is home in Millstreet to lay among her own
The love of her Hometown in her remained strong
She rests in peace in Millstreet where her spirit belong
The longest lived human life in time not a long span
On average a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
We are born to mortality to eventually die
The same for the billionaire as you and i
Hope her parting from life for her was not a painful release
In St Mary's forever may she rest in peace.

On Seeing Black Tailed Native Hens

On seeing me to cover they ran for to hide away
In warrnambool in the Park by Lake Pertobe today
Dark brown migratory birds black tailed native hens their name
To be wanderers of the wetlands their main claim to fame
Small bantam like birds with cocked tails of black
Unusual in their ways though in beauty they do not lack
The lust of the wander in them always strong
In any one place they do not linger for long
By the trees near the Lake of Pertobe for long they may not stay
Tomorrow from Warrnambool they may be far away
Quite different to most other rails they have ways of their own
And of them so little is written or known
Of human kind they are quite wary and shy
When they see me they ran to the cover by the lake nearby.

They Stifle Every Flower

Like the weeds of the garden they stifle every flower
The narcissistic people invested with great power
Far too many of their sort are leaders in the Human World of today
For their rule loss of human rights many are forced to pay
Their so called police force and soldiers to those who oppose them are cruel
Most of the narcissistic leaders do abuse their rule
Even in democratic Countries people give their power away
By voting for a narcissist to lead them on election day
Of the political leaders of the Human World of today the non narcissistic are few
And this is not saying anything that is new
Many narcissists are charming in their deceptive way
On the feelings of others they know how to play
But when in power their true feelings they openly show
And many dislike them when them they get to know.

If Life's Reaper Decides

If Life's reaper decides this is my last day of life
She may shed a tear or two for me the wife
But doubtless without me she will do okay
A wealthy old fellow may well come her way

And some who know of me may say the poetaster is dead
He was one who did live with rhymes in his head
A profilic scribbler though he did not write well
The old rhymer has penned his last doggerel

Just one with rhyming words who does love to play
I will have lived a good life if i cark it today
One who never had to live with prolonged ache or pain
I am one who does not have reason to complain

A comfortable bed to sleep in and enough of food for to eat
Never a shortage on my plate of vegetables and meat
I feel i have been lucky as the word can be
There are millions of people far worse off than me

If this is my last day few for me will shed tears
Though i have had a good innings and known of some good years
I am not one of those who will die in regret
And i feel happy to realize i will be easy to forget.

Live Every Day As If It Is Your Last

Live every day as if it is your last and one day you will be proved right
Since for everyone there is a last day and night
And since the longest lived human life in time not a long span
Live for to be as happy as you possibly can

Be for time seems to hurry and keeps ticking away
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today
And brings us one day nearer to our life's farewell
Though you will not hear the tolling of your funeral bell

Live to be happy make the most of your every day
The sad one has few friends only true to say
Laugh and the World laughs with you as a truism remain
Why the happy are liked by many no need to explain

Suppose it is hard to feel happy if life is treating you bad
Though it will not make life better for you by feeling downcast and sad
They are one of the rarest breeds of the town
Those who can manage to smile though financially down

Where happy people are laughter seems to abound
As they carry it with them and share it around
The happy go lucky have the inner glow
The reason that others them do wish to know.

To Make The World A Better World To Live In

To make the World a better World to live in should not be left to the few
This is saying what is obvious and not anything new
You can help in some way by planting Karma's good seed
By helping somebody of your helping in need
Those who believe that money is everything believe their own lie
There is more to living of life than living for me, myself and i
They are enlightened people those who give to receive
On their sort of a life philosophy i for one does believe
In the inequality in the Human World greed is partly to blame
Some people are ruthless in their desire for money and fame
At the expense of others the more arrogant often become the materially successful of the town
And become rather wealthy by dragging others down
Those who believe on live and let live and help others every day
Are helping to make a better World to live in and in life are doing okay.

Happy Go Lucky Danny

Happy go lucky Danny is quite a good bloke
A humorous fellow he can laugh at and tell a good joke
In his mid twenties with a young daughter and a wife
He is one of the few who does laugh at life
From one in need of help he would never turn away
He is one who performs a good deed every day
His friends in numbers only seem to grow
People like he is others of wish to know
A good husband and to his young daughter a good dad
If everyone were like Danny in the Human World there would not be any bad
In his words he never puts anyone down
One of the nicest people on his side of the town
One who can laugh at and tell a good joke
The likeable happy Danny is a very good bloke.

The Bane Of Sheep Farmers

To the young and the frail mercy they never show
The bane of sheep farmers the silver back crow
Of newly born lambs they do pluck out the eyes
Which to the anger of farmers understandably gives rise
Though poisoned and shot at as a species they survive
And despite persecution they do manage to thrive
And despite being shot at and poisoned their numbers not on the decrease
The corvids who never leave sheep farmers to live in peace
The poisoned baits they have learned for to avoid
And from the guns of the farmers in the woods they do hide
And at lambing time weak young lams they do kill
In the gray light of dawn in the fields by the hill
And since to the frail young lambs mercy they never show
They remain as the bane of sheep farmers the silver back crow.

In The Days Of Tanyard Champion

Some memories does last a lifetime and remain as a source of joy
Early on in my life's journey i was a ten years old boy
In the days of Tanyard Champion Ireland's track greyhound of the year in fifty seven this is going way back in time
Back then his owner trainer Pat Cashman from the top of Tullig was beyond his physical prime

In the greyhound tracks of Ireland many miles from Millstreet Town
The fawn son of Champion Prince and Knockeevan Tulip raced his way into renown
Then Ireland's greatest track racing greyhound him and his owner famed far and wide
Many miles beyond the border of Duhallow's countryside

Tanyard Champion was a greyhound who did live up to his name
And brought to himself and his owner in greyhound circles an enduring fame
In the year of nineteen fifty seven the fawn speedster from Millstreet
In the big tracks in big races with success against the best dogs did compete

Many years have come and gone since and time as ever ticks away
But in young greyhound racing fans in Ireland of the nineteen fifties memories living on today
Of the mighty Tanyard Champion who raced to many a big race victory
In the big tracks around Ireland the dog the fans flocked to see

In nineteen fifty seven going back some sixty years ago
I was just a ten year old then since time has become my foe
The years seem to pass so quickly only the good memories remain
Of the what was and used to be and will never be again

Since the days of Tanyard Champion many years have come and gone
And the now is all that matters though the memories do live on
Of Pat Cashman and his greyhound the dog who raced his way to renown
In the big greyhound tracks in Ireland many miles from Millstreet Town.

Smiling Joe

Joy seems to be with him to wherever to he does go
The one who lives up to his nickname of Smiling Joe
In his mind for sadness there is not any space
He always does have a big smile on his face
For his gift of life he is one who feels glad
I have yet to see Joe feeling down looking sad
Wherever he is at joy seems to abound
As he carries it with him and shares it around
The happy person of others do wish to know
He surely is one who has the inner glow
A happy man grateful for his gift of life
He is kind to his children and kind to his wife
The happiest man on his side of the town
I have yet to see him looking sad faced and down.

Karma For Ann

Karma does not always treat kindly the woman who seduces another woman's man
This does give rise to the story of the young beauty named Ann
Who seduced her best friend's husband and lured him from her and their young son
And since it was for love she did it she could not see any wrong on what she had done

She seduced him with her beauty and the charm in her smile
By her he was quite smitten and he loved her for a while
But the flower that blooms the quickest is the earliest for to fade
And now she is regretting the mistake she has made

On betraying her best friend the price she has to pay
The husband she lured from her is not with her today
He left her for another young beauty and too late she feels more wise
That she should not have betrayed her best friend she has come to realize

She betrayed her for a brief love that came to a quick end
And trust from once broken can be beyond repair to mend
She emailed her former friend to apologize who to her email did not reply
For which she did not have to wonder for this the reason why

For a woman to betray her best friend for love the price can be high to pay
Ann does not have the man she love or the friendship of her former best friend today
What goes around always comes around as the wise one does say
Their fingers are left burned and sore those with hot coals who does play.

Celebrity Worship

Celebrity worship Worldwide is rife
Making gods of flawed people to some a way of life
The egos of the celebrities by them are well pumped one can say
So many of the impressionable sort in the Human World of today
One has to wonder does these impressionable fans have any lives of their own
Than making gods of people to them in name only known
For their swollen egos their fans are to blame
So many get carried away by their money and fame
And the adulation of the adoring crowd
Narcissism is a thing that does grow from being proud
At the applause of their fans the egos of the narcissistic entertainers does swell
In the twenty first century the look at me syndrome is alive and well
Far too many egotistical entertainers in the World indeed
And of their ego pumping fans humanity is not in need.

One Worry Leads To Another Worry

One worry leads to another worry seems true for to say
And worrying does never make your worries go away
Of those who like to complain few of wish to know
And the friends of the happy one in numbers grow
The grumblers never spread happiness whilst walking the street
Their sort i do never feel happy to meet
Since of their worries to me they like to make known
And i have enough of worries of my own
They do not live to grow old the worriers of the town
Some of them die of cancer others have a nervous breakdown
They suffer of poor health those beset by woe
Those who have big worries become their own foe
Laugh and the World laughs with you as a truism remain
Few do wish to know of those known to complain.

In Millstreet In Duhallow

I believe that the changes keep happening today
In Millstreet in Duhallow from Illowa far away
The old Town i loved in decades long gone
The years telling on me and time ticking on

Today i would be a stranger to many in the Town of Millstreet
And in the green countryside where the waterways meet
I have not seen old Clara for thirty one years
But old memories nowadays never move me to tears

Some of the people i knew there in Millstreet did not stay
And some of them where the deceased are do lay
And all i have are memories of the what used to be
Of many of the people i knew that i will never more see

The now is all that does matter as the wise one does say
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today
Of the what used to be the memories we retain
Though old bodies do never become young again

It is only in memory i walk up and down
The once familiar sidewalks to me of Old Millstreet Town
Though i feel every day of my years of ten with three score
And i may never again climb on high Claramore.

Since I Penned My First Rhyme

It has been many years since i penned my first rhyme
Back in the early seventies this is going back in time
And time keeps ever ticking the babies back then
In years now are middle aged women and men
Since then four decades in years have gone by
And on looking back the Seasons time does seem to fly
I wrote my first rhymes as i clearly recall
On my twenty seventh year in nineteen seventy three in September of the Fall
Though i love writing rhymes in truth i can say
It is something one should not do in expectance of pay
And though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
I never go short of things to write rhymes about
And i hope to be rhyming until my life's final day
For what i enjoy doing why should i give away.

Ka Egan

Ka Egan of Kanturk was born and raised a Duggan of Millstreet Town's West End
One who in her long life did make many a friend
A good mother to her daughter Lisa and to her late husband Charlie a good wife
She was one who did live an honorable life
She lived in Kanturk from Millstreet Town not far
Twenty to twenty five minutes at most by car
Though she was one who had witnessed the birth of many new years
Her passing from life would not have gone without tears
In Ka Egan a huge loss to Millstreet Became Kanturk's gain
And in all who did know her fond memories of her will remain
Of people such as she was good memories live on
She is not lost to memory though life's breath from her has gone
Hope her parting from life for her was a painless release
In St Patrick's Cemetery in Kanturk she now is at peace.

Warrnambool

Where the weather never gets too warm nor neither too cool
In the beautiful old City of Warrnambool
A gem in the crown of Victoria's south west
As a livable City it does rate with the best
Of Australian cities and in truth one can say
For it's hospitable residents in hospitality it does lead the way
In Warrnambool City on every street
Friendly smiling faces one is sure to meet
From Warrnambool City the nearest beach not even far
Just four to five minutes at most by car
With beautiful lakes and parks that are widely known
Warrnambool for it's natural beauty in a class of it's own
Where the weather is never too warm or cool
In the beautiful old City of Warrnambool.

Very Sick In The Head

They definitely were very sick in the head
Because of them many good people are dead
Under the gunfire of police they have died in shame
Unworthy to be even mentioned by name
To commit such foul crimes they had to be mentally very ill
Strangers to them they did deliberately kill
For the murdering and maiming of good people with their own lives they did pay
Their names unworthy of mention of them one can say
People without any compassion or empathy
As they lived they died without sympathy
Because of them good people with their lives did pay
They acted on their grudges on a foul and wrong way
Unworthy of mention of them one can say
Let no gravestone mark the spot where they do lay.

Gunfight At The Carnegie

A story of the civil war in Ireland from generation to generation passed down
On the gunfight at the Carnegie Hall in Millstreet Town
Between pro and anti treaty supporters where at least two young men died
For their beliefs in Ireland's political divide

Based on political ideology and human ire
On the ensuing gun battle the Carnegie went on fire
In the darkness of the night on January the fourth nineteen twenty three
That lives today in a chapter of Ireland's civil war history

In a civil war where brother fought brother and former friend fought friend
There were not any winners why otherwise pretend
A civil war that caused death and suffering and ended for many in tears
And in the opposing sides the bitterness of it did linger for years

In post civil war years in Ireland the mistrust between once friends did remain
Which in itself is not at all hard to explain
And many civil wars fought in Countries Worldwide since then
Where many of the survivors are known to become embittered men

Those who took part in the civil war in Ireland at peace forever lay
And no gunfight at the Carnegie Hall in Millstreet town today
The praises of long dead warriors the patriots may sing
But war with it only suffering and sorrow does always bring.

To Your Higher Self

To your higher self you can only be true
By paying the respect to others the respect they are due
You will never become the most popular one of the town
If in your own words you enjoy putting others down
Our material possessions are of no use to us when we die
There is more to life than living for me, myself and i
The Reaper of lives any life does not spare
The one who cannot be bribed by the billionaire
It is a great gift the gift of empathy
Without it for those doing it tough you cannot feel any sympathy
To be generous to those doing it tough is such a selfless thing
The praises of such people i feel happy to sing
Those true to their higher selves are beautiful of mind
And the Human World is in need of far more of the compassionate and kind.

By Telling Them

By telling them that they are undoubtedly great
In the egotistical the impressionable bigger egos create
As such people to praise not well suited at all
Since praise can go to the heads of the humblest words of the wise i recall
Narcissism on some people taking it's toll
In the age of the selfies in many the ego out of control
The look at me syndrome is alive and well
Big egos at praise to bigger egos does swell
In the twenty first century more and more people for fame and money compete
Many aspirational people every day one does meet
Though praise for such people is mentally not a good thing
The praises of the egotistical the impressionable sing
On saying in the twenty first century the humble are few
Is not telling anyone anything that is new.

On Timor Street

On a Sunday in August in late Winter in the City of Warrnambool
The sun hidden in the gray sky on an evening calm and cool
On Timor Street i met an aging man walking with the aid of a walking frame
He seemed rather frail though happy just the same

One i know by sight and to say good day to but not by name
With very poor balance he walks rather lame
Of any sadness in his countenance there was not any trace
He stopped for a brief chat with a smile on his face

He said such a nice evening despite the sunless sky
And when i asked him had he far to walk he said i live nearby
Of anything i am one who never goes in need
I must have been born to be lucky quite lucky indeed

A pale gray haired man who doubtless does live with a lot of physical pain
Yet despite this he seems content and not one to complain
One could understand if to sadness he was inclined
It is true about happiness it can be a state of mind

On parting he smiled and wished me a good day
As along the quiet street he slowly shuffled on his way
One in life who feels he is lucky though he cannot walk aid free
As a person he is far greater than me.

Be Proud Of Who You Are

Up the social ladder you may not have climbed far
But you ought to feel proud of the person you are
Since you work hard and help those of your help in need
And for your future good karma always plant the good seed
One of the honest people in your side of the town
In your words you never do try to drag anyone down
You do live your life in an honorable way
And any unkind thing of others you never does say
An Olympic gold medal you will never win
But you help to make the World better to live in
By being kind to others those who give can expect to receive
On such a life philosophy i for one does believe
You are surely blessed with your god of the mind
Be proud of who you are one who is honest and kind.

Mark Ellis Of Millstreet

The red jersey of Cork with pride he does wear
Mark Ellis of Millstreet a great hurling player
The first of his club such an honor to achieve
The keys to his Hometown he ought to receive

Tall, athletic and stylish a great center half back
In courage and determination the big man does not lack
A handsome dark haired fellow in his physical prime
Men like him inspire the writers of song, story and rhyme

A player renowned for his stick craft and skill
And a hero in the Town in view of Clara Hill
In Cork only the best in the red jersey play
Mark Ellis to make it has had to do it the hard way

Many great players from Millstreet played senior Gaelic football for Cork in the past
Stylish Kevin Crowley to do so the latest but he will not be the last
Gaelic footballer from Millstreet to achieve the dream
Of becoming a playing member of the Cork senior football team

But Mark Ellis the first Millstreet player to play with Cork senior hurlers in Croke Park
This is indeed quite an achievement for the amazing Mark
Few years ago would believe that a hurler from Millstreet
Against the best in Ireland one day would compete.

Luigi

Though you never hear him say that life is unfair
Luigi the old bloke with the silver hair
He is one of those who knows it quite tough
Most of his life's journey has been very rough

In the early nineteen sixties as a young man
He arrived in Melbourne from Distant Milan
With great dreams of a great life in the years ahead
But not all dreams turn into reality as has often been said

He met and fell in love with a beautiful young Australian woman Linda who had agreed to become his wife
But in his mid twenties he developed a mental illness the ruination of his life
Linda reneged on her promise to marry him by bad luck he was denied
On her leaving him any hope of love in his life was totally destroyed

Though he speaks English well some of his Italian accent he does retain
Poor Luigi will never see Milan again
In his mid seventies and sometimes feeling mentally unwell
He does not have many happy stories of his life for to tell

In a single room apartment flat he lives on his own
A nice man well liked by all those to whom he is known
One i do not see that often but whenever i do
He always does greet me with a good day to you.

I Only Have Memories

The clock on our lives ever ticking away
In time it only does seem like yesterday
Since to the fields of my young years i said goodbye
On looking back the Seasons how time seems to fly

Since then i have seen many years come and go
And times that rusts iron has become my foe
Though i have not walked in the old town for thirty one years
For the what used to be i have shed my last tears

People to life come and from life go for others to make way
But the timeless land that supports us will continue to support future generations centuries from today
Time that does not wait on anyone does keep ticking on fast
And each day we do live is one nearer to our last

But for as long as the gift of memory we retain
Mental images from the past with us does remain
Though few autobiographies or biographies published in book form to sell
Everybody have their own life stories to tell

Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And the now we do live in and the clock does tick on
I only have memories of the what used to be
And time that rusts iron has left it's mark on me.

The Hypocrites

Some men who are known to lead materially successful lives
Are cruel to their children and cruel to their wives
They are not what they do appear for to be
Looks can be deceiving as most would agree

In public their false faces are on display
Their true selves from others well hidden away
Their wives and children know them better that their aspirational mates do
Those you live with are those who do really know you

Deceptive in their own quite deceptive way
They are just hypocrites of them in truth one can say
A false public image they do display
Far too many of their sort in the Human World of today

So many social climbers their sort does inspire
And so many of the aspirational them seem to admire
And though many so many they seem to impress
There is far more to any individual than material success

Among the very wealthy of their side of the town
To be financially succesful their claim to renown
Some of the men who are known to lead financially successful lives
But who are cruel to their children and cruel to their wives.

Cobram In Spring

The wattle trees of Cobram wear their yellow blooms of Spring
And in the Town park the grey butcherbirds sing
And the crows and the magpies gathering sticks for their nest
In the old country Town in Victoria's south west
Cobram quite a beautiful and welcoming Town
With it's hospitable residents to add to it's renown
The Town gardens in Spring after the recent showers
With the fruit bearing trees resplendent in their pink and white flowers
When i was last in Cobram a few years back in time
In early September Spring was in it's prime
In the Town park the mud nesting magpie larks were singing pee wee
And a blackbird was piping on a blackwood tree
The memories of such beauty with me does remain
And i do hope for to visit Cobram again.

With Yourself You Begin

With those who believe on live and let live i can only agree
By their very words they seem good people to me
Their idea of a fair go to all does apply
And of respect to anyone they would never deny
There are good and bad people in every gender, race and creed
But of far more of the good the Human World is in need
To make the World better to live in with yourself you begin
Since the power to do good only comes from within
Of every individual of every race Worldwide
Who help the poor and oppressed of the social divide
And treat every nationality and race and creed as the same
And never call anybody out of name
To make the World better to live in with yourself you begin
Since the power to do good only comes from within.

The Lure Of Adventure

The lure of adventure took me far away
From where i would be a stranger to many today
And only the mental images i do retain
Of beauty i may never look on again

In my visualizations i hear and i see
A male pink breasted chaffinch singing on a leafy birch tree
On an evening in Spring as the sun is going down
In a field in the countryside just west of Millstreet Town

The past it has gone and the future ahead
But the now is what matter as the wise one has said
At the stroke of midnight today will have gone
And tomorrow will dawn and time keeps ticking on

The great gift of memory is such a wonderful thing
In far away groves i can hear the birds sing
And see and hear swallows chirping in the sunny Summer sky
As in pursuit of flying insects above the fields they fly

It was the yearn for adventure that lured me far south
Of the fields of the badger and the waterways of the brown trout
But good memories of what was are with me today
That have come with me from old fields far away.

Jill

If she were a man it would be said of her an old hard nut to crack
Jill in her eighties in courage does not lack
Quite opinionated on most things she likes to have her say
And from a verbal stoush she never backs away
An amazing woman as most who know of her agree
She lives on her own she is eighty three
She does not have children or never was any man's wife
And though known to many she has not made many friends in her rather long life
But she is not all bad though some see her on this way
I have to admire her and in truth i can say
That she is one who remains unbowed by time
She must have been some woman in her physical prime
She does not wear makeup her hair silver gray
And from a verbal stoush one not to back away.

In Truth I Can Say

I must have been lucky in truth i can say
In the kind and generous people i meet every day
People who to help others often go out of their way
Respect to them and their kind one only can pay
People in their thinking not in any way small
Who truly believe on a fair go for all
People who do not spend time admiring those of wealth and fame
And treat everybody as equal and same
For their future good karma they plant the good seed
By helping the people of their helping in need
Of them one can say they have the inner glow
These are the people of i wish to know
To help the homeless and stateless they do travel far
They are the care givers where poor people are.

The Lake Bolac Shearer

In shearing sheds in south eastern Australia a shearer of renown
The middle aged shearer from Lake Bolac Town
On average he shears two hundred and fifty big wethers a day
There are far easier ways for one to earn their pay
He is one tough, strong and hardy fellow of him one can say
His brown curly hair is beginning to gray
He does not have children or a traveling partner or wife
Personal commitments would not suit one with his way of life
In working and drinking he does not leave the reputation of his profession down
He has a female lover or two in most every south eastern bush town
He is one who works hard and knows how to have a good time
In his early forties just past his physical prime
With the sweat of his brow he earns his every pay
He is shearing far north of Lake Bolac today.

George Dummett

Like many others i know of many people but only a few of i do wish to know
Those who do have empathy in them and are blessed of the inner glow
And one of them his name is George Dummett he lives in old Port Fairy Town
He is a compassionate fellow who would never see anyone down
George quite an intelligent person unshackled by pride or conceit
He is a likeable individual and kinder one could not wish to meet
He is one who is always helping people on him for help you could depend
He is one who is well worth knowing one could not ask for a better friend
One of the unsung of Port Fairy of years he is three score and ten
He help people without expecting return favors his sort are the kindest of men
Not one of Port Fairy's materially wealthy but a person we ought to admire
Of singing the praises of people like George is i feel that i never could tire
Of many more people like George Dummett the Human World of is badly in need
For a better World to live in he is one who does plant the good seed.

On Reading Them I Was Not Laughing

I know that they remain Worldwide renowned poets the likes of Tennyson, Browning, Wordsworth and Yeats
And Shelley, Eliot, Poe and Longfellow as well as many more poetic greats
Who at least shared one thing in common in humor they surely did lack
Their poetry quite bereft of laughter read often would turn one into a sad sack
Doubtless they were gifted people and they did possess the inner glow
But than them far more humorous poets i will name here a few of who i do know
Such as Chesterton, Belloc and Davies and James Stephens and Oscar Wilde
Their writings and poems not all serious and on reading them i have smiled
It is true we need poets who are serious but in life we need laughter as well
I have laughed at humorous limericks and i have laughed at humorous doggerel
Many of the all time great poets whose poems have outlived them for years
Their poems though great lacking in humor have often had me close to tears
Their poetry quite lacking in humor and in truth i only can say
Or reading them i was not laughing though with words they did have a way.

A Fan Of Nature

He does not know who is playing in the big game at the weekend nor care who does lose or does win
And in his ways he is not tribal the young bloke who does not fit in
He does not have a singer to follow any form of entertainment does not interest him at all
He has as little interest in any form of entertainment as he does have in any code of football
But ask him the name of any bird or animal or any species of plant, bush or tree
And he will surely name them for you since in Nature he is as knowledgeable as the word can be
He truly is a fan of Nature and Nature's working him does captivate
Every night a book or magazine he is reading on the beauty Nature does create
A young man in his very early twenties he does not have a girl friend or a wife
The studying and learning of things natural has become the great love of his life
He is not into women or drugs or alcohol but he has been known for to say
That he hopes for to meet a young woman with similar interests to him one day
You will not see him on a Saturday cheering loudly at the football
Or screaming at a rock band concert such things does not interest him at all.

Women In Their Choice Of Men

Some women like big brawny men with big muscles on arms and either shoulder
Than small framed bookish nerdy types they see them as far more sexy and bolder
Whilst some women like clever men knowledgeable and well educated
The Charles Atlas types does not appeal to them they see them as outdated
Some women fancy the far older man the wealthy sugar daddy
Many a young woman for the wealthy older bloke has forsook her poor young laddie
The one who gives her a great time and calls her love and honey
Who thinks she loves him and does not realize she only loves his money
The man that some women fall for other women does not find appealing
In the ways of love no two women quite the same varied in their depths of feeling
Some women like men for their money or for their brains it does not matter to them if they look scrawny
Whilst some women feel attracted to the broad chested and brawny
Some women fancy balding males whilst others like them hairy
Most women in their choice of men in truth one can say vary.

The Silver Tongued Rill

In fancy i can hear the silver tongued rill
From high Claramore in view of Clara hill
Rippling to the river with a voice never still
On it's ocean bound journey it flows with a will
In the fields of Claraghatlea where the rushes in clusters do grow
Towards the bigger waterways it ripples on slow
In a voice destined to live on forever more
At the start of it's journey to the Atlantic shore
In reality from me it may be far away
But in visualizations i hear it everyday
It ripples on today in my memory
The voice of the rill it is living in me
From high Claramore in view of Clara hill
It ripples on downland the silver tongued rill.

A Man Of Doggerel

Just one more man of doggerel
I write a lot though not that well
With rhyming words one who loves to play
I do write new rhymes every day

For many years a rhyming buff
I do write reams of rhyming stuff
I did love reading rhymes as a boy
And writing them i now enjoy

Unworthy of the title of poet
Or to be seen as one worthy of literary note
But the rhyming bug is with me to stay
It is each to their own as the wise one say

In life everybody of some hobby are in need
But how boring we would be indeed
If in our pursuit of wealth and fame
We all in our ways were the same

In my late twenties i penned my first rhyme
Of years this is going back in time
One who has written much but not that well
I will die as a man of doggerel.

The Yearn For Wander Brought Me Far South

The yearn for wander brought me far south my dreams in life to follow
Perhaps i am the only one where i live today who does hail from old Duhallow
In Illowa in the coastal Moyne shire between Koroit and Warrnambool
Far south by sky from Millstreet Town where i went to Primary school
A ten minutes drive by motor car to the Pacific shore
So different from the countryside in view of high Claramore
In the gray of the dawn the magpies songs i never fail to hear
Their warbling flute like notes i hear every day of the year
Here in Illowa to many mine is not a well known face
And to Claraghatlea where i was born and raised a different sort of a place
A different sort of a countryside yet quite scenic just the same
Between the inland and the coastal lands many differences one could name
The yearn for wander brought me far south of the ancient Boggeragh Ranges
And if i returned to my homeplace i would witness many changes.

Time The Tamer

The most aggressive, strongest and toughest of men time known to tame and mellow
The old bull than the younger bull has a far weaker bellow
Displaced as the leader of the herd by one far younger and stronger
One now in his physical prime who bellows louder and longer
Much the same in tests of strength in the Human World the younger beats the older
With youth and strength on his side he feels more confident and bolder
The old bloke quite wearied by time has lost the will for battle
Just like the old bull displaced by the younger one who now rules the herd of cattle
In tests of strength as always is youth does come out the winner
The older and weaker wildebeest becomes the lion's dinner
Time weakens everything and age to youth keeps losing
To keep alive the stronger genes this is Nature's way of choosing
The young bull always rules the herd he has the stronger bellow
And time that weakens every living thing leaves the strongest weak and mellow.

One Can Say Of Them

One can say of them that they did have their day
Yet some former political leaders like to have their say
In their terms as leaders they failed to impress
Yet their opinions on how the Country should be run in the media they express
How shamelessly arrogant these people are
In politics their egos have taken them far
They live with an overinflated sense of self esteem
Quite narcissistic in their ways is how they do seem
Retired on their lavish pensions that the taxpayers pay
For themselves in life they are doing better than okay
Of humility in them not to be found one trace
Some of these ex political leaders who do not know how to age with grace
Expressing their political views on talkback radio every day
The egotistical opinionated always like to have their say.

The Haughty Young Rose Of The Town

Her with the beautiful brown eyes and shoulder length wavy golden hair
A blooming young rose of the old town than her there is none so fair
Oh but she knows she is pretty and when she is walking the street
She seems to say the least haughty and never a pleasure to meet
Her beauty is only visual true beauty more than skin deep
Though some of the young males of the town on thinking of her losing sleep
But she feels no desire for to know them their losing of sleep due to her all in vain
That love and admiration does need to be mutual to them someone ought to explain
She too will fall for someone in a big way though no interest on her he may display
Love always has to be mutual it never works in one way
Conceited women can be picky and on the shelf are often left
They grow old conceited and single and of love in their lives bereft
Golden wavy hair to her shoulders and beautiful eyes of light brown
Oh but she does feel conceited the haughty young rose of the town.

The Ageing Grandmother Next Door

A woman in her early fifties she says she is done with men forever more
Since her husband left her for one younger the ageing grandmother next door
Anti ageing creams she does not use her shoulder length hair is a natural gray
She does not wish to make herself attractive for the male kind i am what you see she does say

Yet she looks quite an attractive woman quite religious and moral in her own way
She goes to church very often to kneel at the altar to pray
But her husband leaving her left her feeling shattered once bitten for her twice shy
She will never again have a male partner or give marriage another try

A good mother to her children and grandchildren and to her ex husband she was a good wife
But he is a randy old bugger who needs one younger in his life
Love's ways can often be disappointing and leave the jilted one in mental pain
Why she has lost her trust on the male kind her reason itself does explain

Her male friendships are platonic only and with her this is how it will stay
Mistrust can grow from a bad experience for her trust in love the price she did pay
She suppress the need for sex in her as her god's laws she has to obey
Love of her god than the desires of the flesh is far greater she is not alone on being this way

Her ex husband her only and her last sexual partner she will never make love anymore
But i find her quite a nice person since me she does never ignore
Though her husband leaving her for one younger did pain her to the very core
To men she does not feel bitter the ageing divorcee next door.

I May Be An Internet Rhymer

I may be an internet rhymer a scribbler of mere doggerel
But i too does have my own stories of my journey in life to tell
And i pen rhymes on people and Nature and places i have been to and seen
Too old to worry on the opinions of others of what is or what might have been
In an age when they make legends of idiots why wish to be famous and great
It has been said by some wise people that our own reality we create
If with my thoughts i create my reality so be it is all i can say
I am happy just to be a rhymer and to live life in my own way
Those who ask how much money i get paid for rhyming their question i pretend not to hear
That their main interest in life is making money to me does seem obviously clear
With them i share little in common since with material success with others i never compete
Such people i do find rather ordinary and them i would rather not meet
I may be an internet rhymer in highbrow society an unknown
But i am not unhappy in my lifestyle as is often said to each their own.

Laughing Jim

Feeling happy though the boss knocked back his request for a raise in pay
For him it has been anything but a good day
And though of late his wife left to live with another and with her took their young daughter with her from him
He refuses to allow this to get him feeling down dark haired laughing Jim
In his pragmatic way he says their child is better off with my wife
You win some and lose some this is how it is in life
Though i cannot claim to have wronged her in any sort of a way
Since she love some one better with me why should she stay
In his twenty ninth year of life in his physical prime
Laughing Jim believes his luck in life will change in time
Quite a likeable character of him one can say
He does look at life in a positive way
And though of late life has not been going at all well for him
He has not lost his gift of laughter the likeable Jim.

Shannaknock's Big Michael Murphy

In my years in Duhallow he was one of the strong men of Millstreet
Against the best in Cork County in sports at weight throwing he did compete
Shannaknock's big Michael Murphy he was a mighty man
In his physical prime of time going back quite a span

With and against him i played soccer he was strong and tough
Not one who was stylish he did like it rough
In the few times his strength i decided to test
I was left feeling sore and sorry and came out second best

But despite this we remained friends he was never my foe
And on going back in time this now seems long ago
He is a good fellow of him one can say
And in Shannaknock in view of Clara he is ageing today

One of the strongest in the countryside west of Millstreet Town
Though not a troublemaker from a challenge he would not back down
He was quite a man in his physical prime
But suppose he too is wearing the signs of time

Big Mick is the nickname that he is known by
An alias for him that seems apt and does surely apply
In tests of strength he never left Shannaknock down
This great character of the countryside west of Millstreet Town.

Why Should I Wish To Be

Why should i wish to be the wealthiest person in the Moyne Shire
Since i have everything in life i do desire
A roof over my head from the weather a retreat
And i never go hungry without food to eat

To say i have not been lucky would be telling a lie
For it will not be of malnutrition that i will die
There are millions of people homeless and hungry in the World today
Who only know of life in the hardest way

Of them nothing we hear of and of them nothing to read
And who would envy them the life they do lead
Compared to them i am lucky quite lucky indeed
Of lack of food or exposure to weather i do not go in need

I feel no desire to be looked on as a successful person of the town
With others competing for financial gain and renown
Just living life enough of a challenge for me to meet
And i leave it to others for success in life to compete

With most of the famous and wealthy i do not feel impressed
So why should i desire to be one of the wealthy and famous of Victoria's south west
I just hope for to live for as long as i can
And die without pain as a very old man.

Why Do You Keep Wishing

Why do you keep wishing your life away
By thinking of tomorrow just live for today
In life one should never in time look ahead
Many who had great future plans are now with the dead
Life taken from them early in the bloom of their prime
The grim reaper on their existence called time
Since all of us are born into mortality
On how long anyone will live there is no guarantee
Tomorrow will dawn though not for everyone
Life's reaper is not ageist when all is said and done
Make the most of the now for time is ticking fast
And at the stroke of midnight today will be of the past
The reaper of lives does not ignore every young woman and man
And has been known to rob youth of any future plan.

John Joe Daly

In Millstreet in Duhallow when i was a young boy
John Joe Daly told the stories of Ireland's tears and joy
He told stories of the black and tans and civil war and of Tubrid Well
He was an old pipe smoking bloke with yarns in galore for to tell

He told of how Paddy McCarthy a warrior rebel of renown
Died on a bleak night in November in Millview Lane in Millstreet Town
Out numbered by the black and tans he died under gunfire
Stories of such acts of bravery others to take up arms does inspire

He told stories of the civil war where once friends became foes
A not unusual postscript to a war one would have to suppose
Where brother did fight brother in the political divide
For Ireland an unhappy time and not a sense of pride

His memories took him back the years of his long lived life span
He told of men and women he had known when he was a young man
They raised their children and grew old in the Town by Clara Hill
Time on them kept ticking and did not stand still

An old photograph he once showed me i can mentally recall
Of the Cork and Millstreet player Den Connors one handed catch of a gaelic football
A visual memory of a great sportsman in his physical prime
That even back then was showing the wear of time

John Joe Daly in the true sense a historian but his memories with him died
And sadly to future generations his stories have been denied
Even four decades ago one of a dying breed
And of at least one of his sort every town is in need.

In Memory Today

In memory today them i only do meet
The people i knew in and near the Town of Millstreet
Many of them now in eternal repose
Old memories do out live the bloom of the rose
The memories of people i knew today live in me
In my visualizations them i do see
I see them as they were many decades ago
Though time on my body has become the foe
I have not been in Duhallow for three decades of years
And for my old memories i have shed my last tears
But for as long as the gift of memory with us does remain
The good and bad memories of the past we retain
And memories of what was in me too does stay
My erstwhile friends in thought i see every day.

Of A Life After Bodily Death

Of a life after bodily death ask one other than me
Since without living proof with this i cannot agree
Any deceased person i have known has not returned from the dead to tell
Me of an afterlife for the soul or of a heaven or a hell
Some will try to convince you that a weed is a rose
But it is each to their own views one has to suppose
And since to any Universal God i am not one who pray
Of the existence of a heaven and a hell i am not one to say
The god of the mind is the only god i believe in
Since the power to do good only comes from within
In every individual with a good god of the mind
There is a human being who is compassionate and kind
Call me an agnostic or an atheist or call me what you may
Of the existence of a life after bodily death is not for me to say.

Than To Greed And Corruption

Than to greed and corruption my principles sell
I would rather live and die as a never do well
Than cause anybody financial suffering and pain
There must be more to living human life than financial gain
There must be more to living life than in your desire for wealth and renown
See it as okay to seek legal ways of cheating people out of money and financially dragging them down
Since many trusting people the small print in financial documents neglect for to read
To not tell them of their rights them is to mislead
Some bureaucratic people in their ways are just
But then there are those of them unworthy of trust
Good people never harm anybody in any way
And respect to the rights of all others do pay
Those who sell all of their principles for money to greed
In a moral sense are losers indeed.

In The Age Of Self Promotion

Of any opportunity to big note themselves they do avail
Those into self promotion and all it does entail
It is only the influential they wish to befriend
We are in the age of self promotion to say different would be to pretend
That this thing called self promotion does not exist at all
They are a rare breed those with egos that are small
Narcissism and self love are as different from each other as night is from day
Since the narcissist and the one of self love see life in a different way
The one of self love has enough of surplus love and kindness with others for to share
Whilst the narcissist of self needs is only aware
Narcissism is self love gone wrong is how it seems to be
Everyday people taking photos of self i do happen to see
In the age of self promotion many their own praises do like to sing
In the twenty first century this is an in thing.

There Are Not Many Of Them

There are not many of them so few one could name
Who remain down to earth despite widespread fame
Those who retain some humility despite widespread success
By their lack of bravado many people impress
Most people with success get carried away
The look at me syndrome with many an in thing of today
So many with over inflated egos have what is known as a big head
In the twenty first century humility is all but dead
In an age when many their own praises are only too willing to sing
Too much public admiration for their sort is not a good thing
For many a lot of praise is not healthy for the mind
Why do they make small gods of the narcissistic kind?
The humble successful to say the least few
And this is not saying anything that is new.

An August Day

Rain drizzling from a sky that is sunless and gray
For August one can say a typical day
Less than a month from the first of the calendar southern Spring
The white backed magpies in the parkland does sing
The warbling notes always pleasant to hear
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
The tiny breeding frogs singing in every pond and drain
And the countryside green after the recent rain
With such mild Winter weather few would wish to complain
Sufficent Winter rainfall always the farmers gain
Looking quite resplendent after the recent showers
The wattles in full bloom cloaked in their yellow flowers
And no mistaking the familiar call of the pee wee
Where Nature's green beauty is all around me.

You Have Memories

You have memories to cherish of people you have met
And memories of people you would rather forget
But for as long as you live until your last night and day
Your good and bad memories with you will stay
But for those with alzheimer's how sad life must be
For us humans are lost without our gift of memory
Sadly the gift of memory with everyone until death does not last
The people who do not have a sense of presence or future or past
Of the praises of memory i feel happy to sing
As a gift to humanity a wonderful thing
Without memory the mind would be in disarray
Those who lose it perhaps cannot tell night from day
We all need the gift of memory without it we would be lost
But everything in life does come at some cost.

I Am One Of Those

I am one of those who writes rhymes every day
Just for the love of it and never for pay
To some what i do is a big waste of time
But what they think of me is not my business i just love writing rhyme
And what i love doing why should i give away
So i add to my numbers of rhymes every day
I penned my first rhymes back in seventy three
It was my love of rhyme that made a rhymer of me
Though my worth as a writer i feel reason to doubt
There are so many things for to write rhymes about
The lives of people and Nature never fail to inspire
Of writing rhymes i am one who never does tire
And though my best days in life in the forever gone
For as long as i can do i will keep on rhyming on.

Claudia And Jim

For as long as they live until their last night and day
Memories of their younger years in the migrants do stay
Though happy where they live old memories they retain
And sometimes in fancy they visit their first hometown again

Claudia the octogenarian she is eighty three
Arrived in Australia in her very early twenties from Genoa in Italy
Married six decades of years to Australian Jim
He says meeting her is the best thing in life that ever happened to him

Ten times a great grandmother for her years she looks well
Of her younger years in Genoa she has many stories to tell
Though for many years a naturalized Australian her Italian accent she retain
This part of the old Country with her does remain

Though content in her twilight years she remembers the past
Through decades of Seasons old memories does last
She still supports the Italian footballers today
That old allegiances live on only true to say

In the shopping center or the park or on the street
Claudia and Jim i sometimes does meet
Though both showing the signs of time's decay
They remain quite devoted to each other today.

I Do Not Agree With

I do not agree with in life no pain no gain
What life is all about this does hardly explain
The child of the billionaire born into great circumstance
Of succeeding in life afforded every chance
The children of poor parents luck in living does need
As well as a great desire in them in their lives to succeed
The life stories of billions of people will never be told
And success for many poor people is to live on to grow old
Since millions of malnutrition at a young age do die
Equal opportunity for everyone is and will always be a lie
Without pain no gain in life i for one cannot agree
Not many billionaires were ever born into dire poverty
Those unlucky enough to be born into bad circumstance
Of any success in life stand little chance.

I Feel Lucky So Lucky

I feel lucky so lucky everyday i does see
The beauty in Nature everywhere around me
Birds chirping and singing on bushes and trees
Their pleasant notes carrying in the freshening breeze
Though mine here to many is not a familiar face
I feel lucky to be living in such a beautiful place
In the beauty i see around me every day
Earthly Utopia from here cannot be far away
A magpie is warbling his beautiful song
And the voice of the pee wee one could never get wrong
In August three weeks from the calendar Spring
The recent rain to the countryside such green beauty did bring
Nature's beauty is everywhere all around me
And i feel as lucky as the word can be.

It Does Seem Sad To Say

Due to habitat destruction and pollution and Climate Change it does seem sad to say
That more species of wildlife becoming endangered of extinction every day
And most of this doubtless due to human greed
Could it be that for the demise of our own kind we are planting the seed
Respect for the Earth that feeds us and the creatures we share it with most humans does not pay
By the workers of greedy developers more natural habitat for development is being cleared every day
The world is for us humans to live in and with other creatures for to share
But sadly those who love and care for Mother Earth are by far too rare
In a World for one to grow wealthy others are growing poorer by the day
And many of Nature's creatures are losing out to human greed it should not be this way
For a better World for ourselves and other creatures to live in we have a part to play
We need more positive action for the good and not words as words are easy to say
Us humans have come a long way in technology, chemistry and science yet in some ways we are not wise
As the Polar ice caps are melting and her water levels rise.

Serena Trencher

Serena Trencher i have not seen for many a year
Yet the lilt in her laughter i fancy i hear
She lives on the Gold Coast so i have been told
Victoria for her far too blustery and cold
People like Serena may age but they never grow old
I bet she remains attractive to behold
The life of every party when in her life's prime
I would like to bet that she has not changed despite the passing of time
In her varied lifestyle she has done quite well
Of her travels she has many stories to tell
Since she left Mt Evelyn many years have come and gone
And time that rusts iron does keep ticking on
One with the gift of laughter a beautiful sound
She carries it with her and shares it around.

The Far Away Spring

The memories remain of a far away Spring
When the robins and blackbirds and thrushes and finches did sing
And the blue tit lays her brown dotted pale eggs in a hole in old tree
In Spring so much natural beauty to see
Old memories live on they are with me today
Of the hawthorns cloaked on their white blooms of the May
And jackdaws with twigs in their beaks to their chimney nests fly
Their young will be fully fledged and flying by July
The voice of the cuckoo is with me today
It followed me here from old fields far away
And a voice from once heard one could never again get wrong
Of the tiny brown wren who has the big bird song
The past may be gone but the memories stay
Of the far away Spring it is with me today.

The Rhymers

Like all others they eventually do run out of time
But the rhymers they never do run out of rhyme
Since they have no wish to give rhyming away
They keep on rhyming on until their last night and day
The literary genres are changing quite fast
And literary critics dismiss rhyme as a thing of the past
But the writers of rhyme who with rhyming words love to play
Rhyme on for the love of it and not for money as pay
There are rhymers in every village and city and town
Though the best they can hope for is local literary renown
Twenty first century literary critics who claim to know the worth of poets and poetry well
Does dismiss rhymers as the writers of doggerel
And though the days of rhyme is in the long gone
The rhymers love rhyming and they do rhyme on.

To My Own Self

Though fame and material wealth in life has not been my due
To my own self i only can try to stay true
For there is nothing to like to one who is into self in a big way
Though a few of such people i meet every day
The me, myself and i syndrome nowadays does seem an in thing
So many feel it necessary their own praises for to sing
Of their achievements only too willing for to talk about
Of their worth to humanity they never leave one in doubt
I am not one who can boast of material gain
But true to myself i can only remain
To remain true to self there is honor at stake
For to become what i dislike in some others would render me as a fake
And though material wealth and fame has not been my due
To my own beliefs i can only stay true.

The Exclusive Club

In every town, village and city there is many a closely knit exclusive club
They stay in their small groups even when socializing at community gatherings or the local pub
Birds of a feather flock together a saying i remember from decades ago
A saying that does also apply to us humans that we are rather tribal happens to be so
Those who are not in clubs are known to be loners outsiders to many even in their homeplace
In the pubs and the clubs looked os as outsiders in any tribal grouping for them not any space
Not that they show any interest in being tribal they live in their own way and do their own thing
They are not interested in being group people and they leave it to others their own praises to sing
The exclusive clubs do not welcome outsiders and in numbers they are not or never will be of the few
On saying that they are not known to be inclusive is not saying anything in anyway new
Each to their own as the wise are known to say this is how it is and how it always will be
People have always known to be tribal and tribalism does seem part of humanity
Exclusive clubs are to be found in numbers in every village and city and town Worldwide
People who do share much in common and that this is their way of bonding cannot be denied.

He Is Not Camera Shy

He makes sure that the locals him will never forget
His photo is often in the Moyne Gazette
His ego of attention he would never deny
One can say of him he is not camera shy

Though time on his feet has left him walking slow
His Premiership football medal to others he loves to show
He will wear it on display on his coat until the day he does die
To say the ego deflates with age would be telling a lie

Sixty years ago a Premiership player as a young man
When he was young and strong and full of youthful elan
A local football legend today as he was years ago
Though time that rusts iron has become his foe

Many times great grand parents him and his aged wife
They have spend sixty years together of their long life
Today she still loves him and remains a loyal fan
She looks up to him as a wonderful man

Cuttings from old newspapers of stories on him every day by him read
There is no room for humility within his bald head
His ego as swollen as when in his life's prime
It has not deflated over decades of time.

For What They Believed In

For what they believed in and their sense of pride
So many far too many at a young age have died
Never more for to laugh, cry, love, sing or dance
They overlooked in living of life you get no second chance
Though in death by many their praises are sung
It has to be a fallacy the good only die young
For i do know a lot of good people women and men
Who are happily living over three decades and ten
It will be soon enough on some future night or day
That the Reaper of lives will come reaping your way
Where dead people lay under the ground
Earthworms the only signs of life to be found
The longest lived human life in time not a long span
So why not try to live for as long as you can.

Young Bill

Love can be quite hurtful as young Bill knows all too well
Since beautiful Glenda left him life for him earthly hell
He is not socializing does not go to the bowling club
And he no longer plays football or goes to the pub
In his early twenties close to his life's prime
At the weekend young bill should be enjoying a good time
But since Glenda left him he stays home at night
Feeling quite lovesick and looking a sorry sight
He was hoping that Glenda would become his wife
But she now does have a new love in her life
And though the praises of love many may like to sing
Love it can be mentally quite a hurtful thing
The mental ache of lost love has left him feeling down
Young Bill has become a sad sack of the town.

Boris From Russia

Tall and dark bearded and muscular Boris the Russian does seem one to fear
But in truth he is not one on how to others he appear
For he is a gentle and an easy going bloke
Though his type are not the sort one should provoke

To his young children Alexander and Maria and beautiful blond Rose their mother his Australian wife
He is utterly devoted they are the pride of his life
In his distinctive Russian accent he proudly does say
Thanks to my wife and my children i feel the proudest man in Footscray

With shoulder length dark hair and a strong Russian accent though he speaks English well
One who has quite an interesting life story to tell
He left St Peterburg his home City at the young age of nineteen
For to travel in the big World other cities and Countries to be seen

He has done his share of travelling quite a well travelled man
He has seen the most of Europe been to China and Japan
He has been to Africa, Canada and South America and the U S of A
From his home City in Russia time has left him far away

In Footscray in Victoria he met his Aussie Rose
Now a happily married man with children such is life one must suppose
A massive man with long black hair and a bushy black beard he looks one to fear
But looks can be deceiving he is not how he appear.

Only The Memories

Perhaps i will never see Millstreet Town Again
Or old Clara half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
Or on the calm of a Spring twilight by river Finnow
Through the silence hear the soft lowing of a cow
It was the yearn for wander that lured me away
From the place where i first looked on the lamp of day
Claraghatlea just west of the Town of Millstreet
In the green countryside where the waterways meet
Nostalgia for what was has died in me years ago
And time that rusts iron has become my foe
Yet in fancy in Spring i hear a male pheasant crow
In a field where the rushes in clusters do grow
And only the memories today i retain
Of what used to be and may not be again.

Down On His Luck

Down on his luck and without a friend
He feels only in death his troubles will end
Lady luck she is not on his side
And he has even given some thought to suicide

But a tiny voice in his head to him does say
Why should you even think of giving your life away
You may be one of those struggling to cope
But where there is life there is always hope

Good things comes to those who for them do wait
To those who with hope does keep the faith
The brave when all hope from them seems gone
In life always keep on battling on

It is always those who refuse to give in
Who eventually do celebrate a big win
If to hope through tough times you do cling
Better things the future to you it may bring

Live on the tiny voice to him does say
The good times from you may not be far away
A change of luck for you may be ahead
You will be of no use to anyone dead.

Tim

Stories of those who died brave we read of and hear
But the thought of death many of them too did fear
It is the fear of the fear as some are known to say
Though death is inevitable for all one day

The admiration of the living is of no use to the dead
A quote of one wise truer words never said
No use to the deceased who died brave and young
If they are remembered and their praises are sung

Tim an aged neighbor his older brother John died in war
For his glorious ending he did travel far
A widower great granddad time has left him old and gray
But he feels happy to be living and makes the most of every day

He once told me John's death grieved his mother's heart
And on her early death surely did play some part
John did choose to fight in a war far away
And under foreign soil his last remains lay

Tim did not enlist for army duty war did not interest him at all
And he feels happy to think his name will never appear on a war memorial wall
He says i must have loved life better than my brother John
Though fond memories of him today in me live on

Old Tim says in every war young heroes are made
And from history they are not allowed for to fade
And though his best years are in the long gone
He is one who feels happy to be living on.

Not For Me To Say

Who is or is not successful is not for me to say
Since success can be gauged in many a different way
The one successful to you may not be so to me
This is how it is and it always will be
Most view success in individuals on material and monetary gain
More respect their sort generally seem to attain
Among the majority of people and this is Worldwide
That money speaks every language cannot be denied
And though the majority of impressionable people the praises of the wealthy and famous may sing
Success in itself is a relative thing
Who is or is not successful ask one other than me
Since on my thinking on this i am in the minority
Only feel the days of humility seem in the long gone
Though life in the World as usual goes on.

You Too Do Know Why

Any act of kindness shown to a poor person is never too small
I can only admire anyone who believes in a fair go for all
For in their compassionate ways there is much to admire
And of singing their praises i for one cannot tire
Some people's idea of a fair go to all does not apply
Equal opportunity to those who are different to them they deny
Only for their own sort they believe on a fair go
They treat everyone different to them as they would treat a foe
A World free of racism will never be
And a fairer Human World i will never live to see
On a fair go to all people there would be less in poverty
There would not be war or malnutrition or a refugee
Why a fair go to all people does not apply
No need to ask me since you too do know why.

First Home

We all have a place that to us is first home
To the Parisian it is Paris to the Roman it is Rome
The place where they first looked on the lamp of day
And with their young friends children games they did play
Though in their first home some do not choose to stay
The wanderlust in them for lands far away
Though in fancy they often visit the what used to be
And friends of the past do feel happy to see
That love of place transcends love of Country is not a lie
Some live in their first home until the day they do die
Even in the ageing migrant some nostalgia remain
Just to walk on the streets of the hometown again
And though the migrants are ageing and their best days long gone
The love of their first home place in them lives on.

He Does Not Care

What political party governs the Country he does not care
And he is quite suspicious of every millionaire
Unemployed and quite poor and living on welfare
His sort sad to say are no longer rare

Few women wish to become a poor fellow's wife
Cannabis is his only comfort in life
For stealing to buy it he is just out of jail
It seems his circumstance of birth has doomed him in life to fail

His mum and dad drug addicted presently in prison seving time
The poor streets can be a breeding ground for crime
His only sibling his elder sister suicided at nineteen
Homeless in his early twenties only hard times he has seen

There are many opinionated people who will tell you he has a life's choice
People who to their narrow way of thinking does like to give voice
Such people were not born into life's bad circumstance
Where their suburb of any success in life gives them little chance

What political party is governing the Country is no worry to him
Though quite young in years his future looks grim
Hungry and homeless one of the addictive kind
He steals to buy cannabis for his pleasure of mind.

To Lose With Grace

Though the winner takes most of the money and fame
To lose with grace it never should be a shame
In sport as in life it is much the same
Some respect for the loser who in losing was respectful and game
Though none does like to lose of this why pretend
Playing the part of sore loser will not win you a friend
But there is always respect for the one who loses with grace
Who accepts defeat with a smiling face
And join in the applause for the winner and say
That the better one always does win on the day
In the Human World many must lose for a few for to win
But the courage to lose with grace only comes from within
And the one who loses with grace on some future day
For him or for her there will be a loud hooray.

With Yourself You Begin

For to make the Human World better to live in with yourself you begin
For the power to do good only comes from within
The power to do good or evil is in every individual human mind
The Human World is in need of far more of the compassionate and kind
What applies to one does apply to us all
Any act of kindness on your behalf is never too small
A successfuly lived life is not all about what you do for yourself but also for what others you do
A better World for to live in does begin with you
The few who are blessed of the bright inner glow
Of the compassionate and kind a few i do know
Always willing to help those of their help in need
For their future good Karma they plant the good seed
The power to do good only comes from within
For to make the Human World better to live in with yourself you begin.

Mushera On An August Day

Up to the cloud World of the blue and gray sky
The larks with the sun on their brown wings do sing as they fly
On the calm of the evening of a nice August day
The memory of such beautiful scenery a lifetime to stay

Mushera was ancient when the chieftians were in their prime
But they like all others fell victim to time
Their legends are losing out to time's decay
And nobody knows where their last remains lay

Above Aubane valley in the high green countryside
From Mushera the old hill scenic views far and wide
Of Muskerry and Duhallow far as the eyes can see
The beautiful views of amazing scenery

On the bracken clad face of the ancient hill
Time that ages most things does seem to stand still
Mushera has not changed it still looks much the same
As it did before humans did give it a name

In the woods of the foothills wood pigeons cooing on the trees
And blowing across the high countryside a pleasant Summer breeze
By Mushera mountain on a nice August day
Such beautiful memories a lifetime to stay.

In Some Countries

In some Countries where the white flower of peace has not bloomed for years
Many people only know of death, suffering and tears
In wars over religion, land and race and cultural and tribal wars as well
And sadly it is always the good who live and die in earthly hell
In war zones good people are dying every day
In bombings and shootings and in every foul way
Many good people have died in a foul way over decades of time
To be living in war zones was their only crime
The war supposed to end all wars was fought a century ago
And the enemy then is no longer the foe
Of the lessons of war history many do not wish to know
Mistrust and hatred into war does grow
And it is always the good with their lives who do pay
In bombings and shootings in war zones every day.

On The Hill Of Calvary

On the hill of Calvary nailed to a timber cross he died
By his own people he was crucified
He was a young man then only thirty three
His life and death it gave rise to Christianity

The true son of God his millions of followers agree
Who walked on the sea water in Galilee
Going way back in time two thousand years ago
Though one person's truth to another not so

His story from past centuries and for the centuries ahead
The only one ever supposed to return from the dead
He was the son of God millions to him does pray
And he has millions of followers in the Human World of today

In the twenty first century many good people as he was become victims of foul play
At the hands of their own kind they die in the cruelest way
Like he was to be different from others was their only crime
But unlike him their names will not live through the centuries of time.

The Happy Person

The happy person most of others wish to know
And his or her friends in numbers do grow
They have what is known as the bright inner glow
The warmth in the sunshine it does melt the snow
There is a warm welcome in every place
For the one who is happy with a smiling face
Few wish to know of the sad sack of the town
Who has the sad face of the one feeling down
The people who can laugh though poor financially
Have a good attitude to life would you not agree
They seem to spread joy even whilst walking the street
The people that others feel happy to meet
A smile does not cost a thing only true for to say
And the happy person makes new friends evry day.

I Am One Of Those

I am one of those who writes rhymes every day
And though some have advised me for to give it away
Since in rhyming for me there is no money and little fame
It is something i do enjoy doing just the same
And it is something i have said quite often before
I write rhymes for the love of it and little else more
There is more to life than material wealth and renown
And being admired as a hero of the town
We all have our dreams in our lives to pursue
And to our higher selves we can only live as true
I write rhymes as a hobby without any hope of money for pay
And what i enjoy doing why should i give away
And rhymers are of the many and poets are of the few
Though to this you may say do tell us what is new.

You Are Far More Trusting

If you believe everything you do hear and see
You are far more trusting than most seem to be
But eventually you will become more selective with your trust
When you come to realize not everybody is honest and just
Trust is a thing you must earn to receive
Words from the wise i too in do believe
Some people one cannot trust in any way
If you trust them for your trust the price you must pay
Scammers cunning in their ways to many appeal
By deception large sums of money do steal
And too late for sorrow and feeling angry and sad
When you realize that you have been had
And if you believe everything you hear and see
You are far more trusting than most seem to be.

Helen

She spreads happiness even walking the street
I always finds Helen a joy for to meet
The mother of identical twin five year old daughters Jenny and Sue
To her higher self Helen remains ever true
Two years ago her hopes of a lifetime of love were destroyed
When her husband Joe in a work accident died
But Helen for her very young daughters sake
Had to carry on with life and overcome heartache
Though none in her life will ever take Joe's place
The smile has returned to her beautiful face
In her late twenties great challenges of in life she has known
She works for to raise her children on her own
But beautiful dark haired Helen free of conceit and guile
Does greet everyone with a wonderful smile.