A Champion Athlete

People do seem to age quickly every year past their physical prime
The champion athletes in their twenties eventually lose out to time
In their prime years they were big race winners and the winners take all of the fame
Today the applause is not for them though they are remembered by name
The old bloke who drinks at the local he talks of his days now long past
A champion athlete in his twenties he was one who often ran fast
His medals are even showing time wear and time on him ticking away
He walks with a cane's assistance and the hair on his balding head silver gray
All he has left now are memories of the man he used to be
He was a man in his twenties that to compete the fans flocked to see
Sometimes on his flights of fancy he goes to the past again
Of his many championship big wins the memories only remain
Time that rusts steel and iron on him and his old wife does show
Sometimes in the park on nice evenings together they shuffle on slow.

For Any Country

For any Country i am one who would not die
If i did tell you differently this would be a lie
Of patriotic attachments i am one who is free
The heroes are never the people like me
By many we are told the good do die young
And the praises of dead war heroes by the patriots are sung
But at the war memorial after the war parade
The dead do not hear when The Last Post is played
That life is about living truer words never said
The fearful are living and the fearless are dead
The true patriot in war he died young and brave
But he cannot help his Country from the depths of the grave
The one with fear of death and love of life will live out his time span
And die in peace as a very old man.

A World For Winners

They write stirring ballads these doyens of the pen
Of warriors bold and of men among men
Of famous celebrities who are known far and wide
The people at the top of the social divide

We read poems and stories of young women in their physical prime
Renowned for their beauty legends of our time
Photos of them in newspapers and magazines every day
The World is their oyster of them one might say

Of presidents and royalty we always read of and of hear
They make the news headlines every day of the year
The majority of people of them wish to know about
That they do have it all there can be little doubt

The majority of the people their heroines and heroes create
Suppose they do need people to celebrate
They need people they can look up to and admire
In the Human World there are the admired and those they inspire

But you never do read of or hear of those who are doing it tough
The homeless and hungry who are sleeping rough
They are not seen as newsworthy in any sort of a way
It is a World for winners the Human World of today

I Am Just Your Average rhymer

I am just your average rhymer a poet i am not
And like many others i will be forgot
When i have lived my last night and day
And in time from me this cannot be far away
It is said about poets that their sort are few
And this is not saying anything that is new
And though i am just one of those who enjoys writing rhyme
Many do look on this as a huge waste of time
Since for it i never receive any pay
And not much recognition in truth i can say
But what i enjoy doing why should i give away
And i hope to be doing it until my last night and day
I have never pretended for to be a poet
And as i live i will die as not one of literary note.

I Do Feel Rather Lucky

I do feel rather lucky in truth i can say
In the beauty i see around me every day
On a pleasant Summer evening of around twenty degrees
How nice to be out in the cool evening breeze

That blow up the hill from the saltwater bay
Carrying in it the sweet scent of hay
Such beautiful weather to be out and about
In this beautiful place in the coastal far south

So much beauty in Nature to enjoy and see
And better for everyone it is monetary free
The natural beauty we see around us every day
A beauty for to view we do not have to pay

Above the paddocks in the sunlit sky
White butterflies seemingly dance with each other as they fly
In the coastal breeze the sweet scent of hay
In the evening of what is a nice Summer's day.

This Is Not A Surprise

The more knowledge you accumulate the more you come to realize
That you do know so little this is not a surprise
Since knowledge is infinite and in truth one can say
That the more you do learn the more you come to see it this way
The praises of great minds many well may sing
But she or he yet not born the one who knows everything
Of life every day i do learn something new
Yet to realize i do know so little i am not one of a few
Our biological clocks seem to tick faster beyond our life's prime
And so much to learn in so little time
For the World's most knowledgeable person there is a final Fall
And she or he surely does not know it all
And the more you do learn the more you realize
That you do know so little this is not a surprise.

Only The Praises Of Winners

In a World where millions of people for attention compete
The down to earth people becoming harder to meet
So many do dream of material wealth and fame
But few Worldwide become known by name
Fame can have it's sources in circumstance
And does come to many only by chance
And sadly your talent does not guarantee
You a means of transcending your poverty
Though losing is something anyone would not choose
For one to win big many do have to lose
Since humanity it is structured in this way
There are winners and losers in the World every day
The Worldwide competition for success is an ongoing thing
And only the praises of winners the masses do sing.

A Good Person

A good person always willing to help one of helping in need
And for future good karma always plants the good seed
And though never among the most admired of the town
In word or deed they never put anyone down
Since they truly believe on a fair go for all
Good people in their thinking are never small
They perform a good deed or more every day
And to help other people often go out of their way
A few very good people i feel privileged to know
And i can say of them that they have the inner glow
Kind and generous people and free of conceit
Their sort true to say quite a pleasure to meet
Good people never turn their backs on the financially down
And we need more of their sort in every town.

A January Day In The Moyne Shire

It has been another sunny and quite warm day
The tall grass in the paddocks the colour of hay
The creeks flowing at a trickle and bone dry every drain
The Moyne Shire it could do with some heavy rain
In the mostly sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
A warm wind blowing uphill from the saltwater bay
A weather temperature high for the day of a warm twenty two degrees
And the warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
Amazing to see so many white butterflies
And Nature's beauty as ever pleasing to the eyes
Either playing or fighting in the warm sunlight
In Nature there is many an amazing sight
And the song of the magpie lark always pleasant to hear
The bird who sings pee wee every day of the year.

The Former Rose Of Carriganimma

A beauty in her younger years though beauty until death with few does stay
The former Rose of Carriganimma where might she be today
Does she like many others in hair dye cloak her gray
And with anti ageing creams smooth age wrinkles away
Did she marry, partner and bear chuildren or as childless and single did remain
She left Carriganimma in the mid sixties never to return again
As a dark haired blue eyed beauty in her physical bloom
Her equal not to be found in Millstreet or Macroom
She left old Carriganimma on an April morning in Spring
When the nesting songbirds did whistle and sing
And the old fields lush and green from the recent showers
Did look quite resplendent in their April Flowers
The Rose of Carriganimma when in her life's prime
But then like all others she did have her time.

Good Memories Live On

The laughter of children in the park playground at play
Takes me to another time and to far away
In the town park on Summer evenings we played football
For a couple of hours until the gloam of nightfall
But all of that now does seem long ago
And time that ages everything has become my foe
In the nineteen fifties the young boys and girls back then
Now long past their physical prime ageing women and men
And though the clocks on our lives ever keep ticking fast
The laughter of children takes us to the past
To our younger years when we enjoyed our fun
Playing with our young friends in the evening sun
Until the gloam after sunset in the town park far away
Good memories live on as the wise one does say.

A Duhallow Legend

Millstreet's greatest all round worker when in his life's prime
Though this is going back many decades in time
But oh to himself he was so very cruel
The man known to many as Jack The Mule

In Cahirdowney from Millstreet Town not far away
As John Kelleher he first looked on the lamp of day
His dad owned a mule then is how his nickname came about
And that he was a mighty man he never left anyone in doubt

One who never had children or never had a wife
He drank hard and worked hard and lived a rough life
A fellow who did earn his every pay
And nothing easy in life ever did come his way

March had arrived in Duhallow with a blustery chill
And the late Daithi Dowling out walking with his son in a field by Clara Hill
The lifeless body of John Kelleher found
He had chosen to end his life on the higher ground

On the day of the horse fair in the Town of Millstreet
Where the people who buy and sell horses does meet
Where John Kelleher in the pubs of dark guinness often enjoyed his fill
Instead of going to the fair he choose to die by Clara Hill

Arguably in his prime Duhallow's all round greatest working man
A brave and strong fellow who ended his own life span
He was quite a man of him one can say
And not many like him in Duhallow today.

The Privileged Minority

They are on the right side of the social divide
The privileged people who have god on their side
But sadly most of their sort on many others look down
There are many snobs living in every town
It is human flaws that humanity has to thank
For snobbery and class distinction and social rank
Of food and homes to live in so many of must go in need
The main source of poverty can be traced to human greed
Between those who have and have not the gap is widening by the day
And this seems a sad enough thing for to say
There are millions of people hungry and homeless and sleeping rough
And the super wealthy minority with far more than enough
Who enjoy life at the top of the social divide
The privileged minority who have god on their side.

Quite A Warm Day

That i am not a good rhymer i have little doubt
But so much material for to write rhymes about
In the quiet countryside by the old country town
The birds chirp and sing as the sun is going down
A cool refreshing breeze blowing uphill from the bay
At the twilight of what has been a very warm day
The dry and brown countryside is in need of some rain
But Nature pays us no heed when of her we complain
The country fire authority members are trying their best
To contain a bifg fire burning towards the west
Today a weather temperature high of near forty degrees
But there is a certain coolness in the evening breeze
That blows up the hill from the saltwater bay
And make cooler the air of what has been quite a warm day.

Nature Is Far Greater

Nature on her does not have a time span
And is far greater and more powerful than the greatest human
Whose achievements to her does seem rather small
Her Earth Mother is the one who does feed us all
Nature has many moods as we have come to know
We feel fearful and powerless when her anger does grow
In drought, earthquakes, huge gales, flooding, thunder and fire
The awesome power in Nature fear and awe in us does inspire
But in her times of peace her beauty is on display
That is all around us for to see every day
To view the marvels that she does create no money for to pay
How great is Mother Nature seems beyond me for to say
Through the centuries great human beings have come to and from life have gone
But Nature is far greater and she is living on.

You May Leave Your Hometown

You may leave your hometown on your journey to elsewhere
For to start a new life in the big World out there
You may think you are leaving your past behind but you have got it wrong
For wherever you go to your past with you goes along

Though long absent from your hometown and from there you live far away
Old memories of what was are with you today
On your flights of fancy you walk on your first home street
And your friends of the past you are happy to meet

Your physical best years in the forever gone
And the clock on your life ever keeps ticking on
In the park playground you watch your grandchildren play
You too had your young fun in a park far awy

Since in your early twenties you left your hometown
The roadways of life you have been up and down
Good memories of what was in you does remain
And in your nostalgic moments you go home again.

A Warm Evening In The Moyne Shire

A warm evening in January close to forty degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and in the freshening breeze
Blowing uphill from the Pacific carrying in it the sweet scent of hay
On what is for south western Victoria a very warm Summer's day
The cattle out of the full sun are happy for to stay
In the shade of the tall gums chewing their cuds they do lay
Not a good evening for the sports minded to go for a cycle, jog or run
A better idea by far to stay out of the warm sun
In Nature in all weather there is beauty for the eyes
Above the sunlit paddocks thousands of white butterflies
Are seeminly dancing or with each other fight or play
This is their mating ritual those who know better say
In the Moyne Shire of coastal south west Victoria a very warm January day
In the very blue and sunny sky there is not one cloud of gray.

Most People Have Their Dreams

Most people have their dreams in life to pursue
And life is what you make of it to some is only true
Due to hardship in childhood and due to birth circumstance
Some of any success in life stand little chance
Their drug dealing parents serving time in jail
By their circumstance of birth they are condemned to fail
They follow in parental footsteps and turn to crime
The most of them in jails will spend their lives prime
Young people from their suburb employers never employ
A successful life they cannot hope to enjoy
Failure is the normal on their side of the town
Where most only know of how it feels like to be financially down
Some may tell you that you receive from life what is only your due
But not many ever do see their dreams in life come true.

So Many With Big Egos

Where to be good at sports or entertaining or making of money is a claim to renown
So many with big egos in every town
Their egos are not that hard at all to swell
And of their successes they do like to tell
To say narcissism is on the rise is not a lie
Many into in a big way in the me, myself and i
In the twenty first century humble people getting harder to meet
We are definitely in the age of self conceit
The glamorizing of greed it does seem the in thing
The praises of celebrities and billionaires the masses do sing
The Earth that feeds us is being destroyed by people of greed
Of more environmentally friendly people the World of is in need
To fulfil this need for greed more habitat for wildlife every day being destroyed
In this there should not be any reason for pride.

The Past It Has Gone

Some tell us from life we receive our due
But others will tell you that this is not true
We learn as we live something new every day
We never stop learning since life is this way

Some people waste their time regretting their mistakes of the past
Whilst the clock on their lives ever keeps ticking fast
But the past we can only learn from and life does go on
And at the stroke of midnight today will be gone

To live in the now is the best we can do
This applies to me and will apply to you
We only have memories of the past and the future a mystery
And as is often said what will be will be

The past it has gone and what is done is done
And tomorrow will dawn but not for everyone
We can only live in the now and the now is today
And the clocks on our lives ever ticking away.

As A Truism Remain

The one with plenty of money never short of a friend
As it speaks every language why otherwise pretend
The old bloke in his eighties has a pretty twenty five years old wife
Though he does not realize it he is not the love of her life
How she truly feels about him from him she does hide
As she does realize time is not on his side
That he will cark it soon with this hope she keeps faith
And as is said everything comes to those who do wait
That she only loves his money he does not seem to realize
But this in itself is not any surprise
Since her true feelings she is quite good to disguise
And all people grow older but few does grow wise
That money speaks every language as a truism remain
This has often been said and will be said again.

A Port Fairy Rose

The finest in Port Fairy for her age maybe
Though everyone with this may well not agree
Since beauty is in the eyes of the beholder as the wise one does say
And that beauty has many faces does seem this way
Of dark wavy hair and eyes of chestnut brown
A beautiful woman of Port Fairy Town
And quite a nice person untainted by life
One lucky Port Fairy man has a beautiful wife
Some beautiful women of their beauty seem all too aware
But she is not this way which makes her quite rare
One friendly and warm and free of conceit
She carries joy with her when walking the street
Though into her fifties one has to suppose
That she does remain as a Port Fairy Rose.

As You Possibly Can

The longest lived human life in real time not a long span
On average a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
And though people seem to age quickly and lose their youthful elan
You should live for as long as you possibly can
Though life for you now may be on the side of tough
Live for as long as you can you will be dead long enough
You may not be looked on as a financial or material success
But life is the greatest gift anyone does possess
Since few wish to know of the poor of the town
It is hard to feel positive when you are financially down
But hope springs eternal as the wise one does say
And better times for you may not be far away
And since the longest lived human life in real time not a long span
Do live for as long as you possibly can.

So Good To Be Living

In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
So good to be living on a day like today
In the town's parks and gardens countless white butterflies
Such natural beauty in the watchers eyes
Seeminly dancing and playing in the evening breeze
Above the flower beds and around the sunlit trees
In Nature there is so much beauty to see
That to the watcher is completely free
Such beauty to live on in the memory
In the prime of the Summer in mid January
In the park playground children laugh at their play
Such a beautiful sound on a beautiful day
A scene in the memory that is destined to stay
To watch the beauty in Nature one does not have to pay.

Your Roadways Of Life

Your roadways of life can lead you to anywhere
To places in the bigger World out there
Or your roadways of life from your home may never take you far
From where all of the friends you have ever known are
Some on the roadways of life have travelled far and wide
Whilst some have stayed in their hometown or countryside
Some in their wandering travel from town to town
And to a sedentary lifestyle never settle down
On our lives journeys we do make friends and foes
Part of our existence one must suppose
And since we are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
That like all journeys the life journey must end
Some on their roadways of life travel far
Whilst other never venture far from where their friends are.

One Of Their Own

One seen to be worthy of fame and deserving of note
The man that the most voters did choose for to vote
To a seat in Parliament on election day
Flawed people can be greatly admired which seems sad to say

A man who does not lead a moral life
It is known that he is not faithful to his wife
But with the people who voted for him this is okay
Since he represents their views and thinks in their way

The truth that does not suit him he keeps on denying
But those who voted for him does not seem to mind that he is good at lying
His praises his voters seem happy for to sing
Though lying to him is a natural thing

His voters does see him as one to admire
And of singing his praises never seem to tire
Since in Parliament to their political views he gives vent
For his lack of morality to them he does not need to repent

He is not one of those who leads a moral life
As he is one who is unfaithful to his wife
And to be good at lying he is also well known
But his voters does claim him for one of their own.

Vanity

Many worry of how to others they do appear
Of their own self image they do live in fear
Always concerned of what of them others might think or say
The price for their vanity in this way they do pay
Their vanity on their feelings does keep taking toll
Though what others think or say of them is beyond their control
Even into old age their extreme sense of self pride with them remain
Perhaps it is a cross in life for them to bear those who are vain
Always worrying of how they appear to others eyes
But that they are mental prisoners of the judgemental they fail to realize
It is a human flaw to be vain in truth one can say
But then all of us are flawed in some sort of a way
Human feelings are way beyond me to explain
Only know it cannot be good for the mind to be vain.

The Town's Last Stonemason

He was born and raised in Glasgow from here far away
The town's last stonemason was buried today
He lived to a good age he was ninety three
His stone work will outlive him for more than a century

The town's last stonemason enjoyed his every beer
At the local he always enjoyed the barroom cheer
He has great grandchildren though he never had a long term partner or wife
And he had many love affairs in his long life

He left Glasgow in his early twenties in the mid nineteen forties forever more
Never again to return to his homeland shore
Though his strong distinctive accent with him did remain
A piece of Scotland that until death he did retain

He was the last link to a trade of the past
Of the town's stonemasons he was the last
He died in his sleep from life for him a painless release
The long lived old migrant he now is at peace.

This Would Be A Lie

For many years i have been a rhyming buff
One of those who has written a whole heap of stuff
Others far more worthy of literary note
Though as a young man i did dream of becoming a poet
But what i did hope for i did not realize
Since the cream to the top of the milk always rise
And though my best years in life in the forever gone
My rhyming addiction keeps me rhyming on
On saying writers are many but good writers are few
I am not saying anything in any way that is new
Though one who is not to the literary fore
I just enjoy writing rhymes and little else more
And i hope to be rhyming until the day i do die
If i did tell you different this would be a lie.

If You Wish To Know What Success Is

If you wish to know what success is ask one other than i
For if i told you i did know i would be telling a lie
For success in ways can be viewed very differently
The one who is successful to you may not be so to me
Many look on celebrities as those who know of success
Those of money and fame them does greatly impress
Though in good example they may not lead the way
Their admirers in numbers seem to grow by the day
To me succesful people are compassionate and kind
And to help those in need of helping are always willingly inclined
But with this there are many who would not agree
The one who is great to you may not be so to me
Those who look on wealthy celebrities as successful people are not in the few
But this is not saying anything that is new.

I Am Not A Patriotic Fellow

I am not a patriotic fellow though i retain a sense of place
For Claragahatlea where i was born and raised in and mine used to be a known face
Of where i have many good memories though far from there i well may die
A place that i do think of often to say different would be a lie

There i spent the best of my prime years before time did become my foe
I left it in wintery December a year with three decades ago
When Finnow swollen by heavy downpours flowed bank high in flood waters of brown
And cattle for fodder were bellowing in the farmyard sheds near Millstreet Town

The old fields looked wet and deserted and Clara wore a hat of snow
And the cold gales of the Boggeragh Mountains above old Duhallow did blow
And howled in the bare deciduous trees as the rain it was drizzling down
As i sat on the bus bound for Rosslare on the evening i left Millstreet Town

The past for us only has memories the future of us is ahead
And the now is only what does matter as the wise one so wisely has said
And the now for me is Illowa Victoria in the Moyne Shire near Warrnambool
Far south of the Town of Millstreet where i went to primary school

Though many are quite patriotic and of their love of Country do brag
I am not one of those sort of fellows who carry their pride in a flag
But like most every other migrant i retain a strong sense of place
For Claraghatlea near the Town of Millstreet where mine used to be a known face.

You Will Come To Know

You will come to know who your friend is when you are in financial need
For your friend at such a time is a true friend indeed
Many you think are your friends in your side of the town
May well not be so if you happen to be financially down
You may have many acquaintances but your true friends are few
And this is not saying anything that is new
When you are financially down few of your troubles wish to hear
And most of your friends from your life disappear
It is then who your true friends are you come to realize
And in any way this is not any surprise
Your acquaintances are many and your true friends are rare
In your time of need of this you will become aware
On your time of need your friend will stick by you
And this is only saying what is obviously true.

When Brother Fought Brother

When brother fought brother the cause it was lost
The civil war in Ireland came at a huge cost
To people who already had seen too much bloodshed and tears
The bitterness of the civil war was to linger for years

Far too many young men in Ireland's civil war died
And this should not be any reason for pride
Or seen to be worthy of a street parade
Though patriots won't allow war history from memory to fade

When neither was right and both sides were wrong
To the dark side of Irish history the civil war belong
When brother fought brother hatred took to flame
That this should have happened does seem such a shame

When brother fought brother and former friend fought former friend
The bitterness of the civil war took decades to mend
A bitterness for years that did linger on
After the British forces from the Republic of Ireland had gone

A civil war that gave rise to the political parties of Sinn Fein, Fine Gael and Fianna Fail
Three political parties that for Ireland did nothing at all
As they could not unite since they only knew how to divide
Any hope for a unified Ireland by the civil war was destroyed

A tragic time for Ireland in truth it can be said
When brother fought brother mothers wept for their dead
In a civil war nothing for to celebrate
And nothing as such for to commemorate.

Illowa In January

The freshening breeze blowing uphill from Gorman's Bay
Carries in it the sweet scent of freshly baled hay
The sun shining bright in the sky blue and gray
In Illowa it is a beautiful day
Though the brown and dry paddocks could do with some rain
With such a nice evening it seems hard to complain
The warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
And white butterflies seemingly dance in the breeze
Contented cattle lay chewing their cuds in the shade of the trees
On a pleasant weather temperature high for the day of twenty two degrees
In Illowa of the Moyne Shire in January in the Summer's prime
A place very old even in the Dreamtime
Earthly Utopia it cannot be too far away
From Illowa on this nice January day.

Two Women Of Love

In love as in life things do not always go well
Two women of love with different stories to tell
In different ways by love they were both left in tears
And due to love grief and disappointment can linger for years

One of them her true love as a young man tragically died
By the reaper of lives of love and happiness she was denied
And she in her grief is left to contemplate
How she will mentally recover from the death of her soulmate

By life's reaper robbed of her happiness in life
They did plan to marry she would be his wife
Her grief at his passing it does not go away
The memories of love does not die in a day

The other woman by the man she loved was betrayed
And anger and bitterness in her it is slow to fade
Their love affair came to an acrimonius end
When she discovered that he had been sleeping with her friend

A broken affair of the heart has left her feeling down
Her misfortune was to fall in love with a young stud of the town
The mental hurt of love's disappointment for ages remain
She may not fall in love in a hurry again

Two young women who do know of love's mental hell
Of life's heartache and grief with different stories to tell
That love is not always blissful only true to say
And because of it stories of sorrow and grief every day.

The Australian Magpies Or Piping Shrikes

The Australian magpies or piping shrikes familiar birds of song
Once seen and once heard you never again get them wrong
The beautiful warbling delightful to hear
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
Black and white territorial birds in small family groups they do live
In their beautiful songs so much pleasure they do give
Their territories with aggression they always defend
And only one of their family group at breeding time loved as a friend
In late Winter and the Spring they often sing at night
How pleasant to hear them warbling in the moonlight
They often sing in unison like a feathered band
These natural songsters of the great southern Land
Distinctive in their appearance and in every way
They are birds one does see and does hear every day.

Where Old Clara Mountain

Where old Clara Mountain ever looks down
On Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra and Millstreet Town
Fond thoughts from my mind never that far away
Of the place where i first looked on the lamp of day
In the fields of the badger and silver backed crow
Old River Blackwater as ever does flow
On it's journey through North Cork to the Atlantic Shore
The sound of it's babble will be forever more
Old memories to me remain a source of joy
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
It was my love of adventure that brought me far south
Of the waterways of the dipper and the shy and wily brown trout
Old memories of what was in me does remain
And in fancy i often climb Clara again.

Suppose For Their Ignorance

Suppose for their ignorance them one can forgive
Since they do not realize how many do live
Privileged by birth and privileged in every way
In a World where millions of people are malnourished today

They never had to live homeless and hungry on poverty street
Where the challenge of survival every day poor people must meet
Where most are just happy for to be alive
And so few to midlife can expect to survive

Millions of poor people in life doing it tough
Whilst the privileged minority have more than enough
Of material luxuries the good life they enjoy
A big expensive new car to them is just another toy

In the driveway of their new big home on public display
The privileged minority of the Human World of today
They do not know how it feels like to feel hungry or to sleep rough at night
Like those that survival from day to day for is an uphill fight.

Koroit On A January Night

A watchdog in a yard nearby utters an angry bark
In answer to a fox's shrill cry in the starlit town park
On Commercial Road to and from Warrnambool big trucks drive up and down
On a January night in the Moyne Shire in Koroit's country Town
A boobook owl is calling in the stillness of the night
The pubs are closed in Koroit not a human being in sight
On January the eleventh time seems to tick on fast
The new year celebrations now a memory of the past
All night along Commercial Road the trucks pass to and fro
That somethings never seem to change does happen to be so
The Lake School it is over most visitors from Koroit have gone
The old Town is back to normal and life there does go on
Two male cats scream in battle in a territorial fight
And on the streets of Koroit not a human being in sight.

You Poets Of The World

You poets of the World you may well feel proud
As the literary critics sing your praises loud
And condemn every rhymer to poetasters hell
Since rhyme is their new idea of what doggerel

Is since it is they who decide
On what true poetry is on their literary opinions they take pride
Since they are the dons of universities
The people who can boast of literary degrees

You poets of the World your poems may not rhyme
But you are the true poets of this age and time
You are those chosen by those of literary power
Like the roses of Summer you have come to flower

You are chosen as people of literary note
By the literary elite who tell us a rhymer cannot be a poet
Those who in their opinions believe that they cannot be wrong
That rhyme to a long gone age does belong

The mid twentieth century rhyme has not survived
You poets of the World your time has arrived
In a literary World that is changing fast
It does seem that rhyme is a thing of the past.

Far South Of Where

Far south of where i was born and went to primary school
In this coastal countryside by Warrnambool
My past in my memories of what was with me does remain
In my moments of fancy for to visit again
Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
For of Nature every day we learn something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
On my flights of fancy i hear the birds sing
In a distant leafy grove in the prime of the Spring
When the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
Good memories live on as the wise one does say
A magpie is warbling on a sunlit gum tree
Suppose i am now where i am meant to be.

Jacky Winter

He calls out peter peter in the wood beyond the town
The brown flycatcher nicknamed jacky winter a stranger to bird renown
And for the reason for his nickname in truth i cannot say
His kind distinctive in their behaviour do live in their own way

Of light brown back, wings, head and tail and unders of light gray
Their sort strangers to many and not seen every day
But if you are in a woodland and peter peter you do hear
You know that jacky winter to you is somewehere near

In grass cup nest felted with spiders webs two tiny blotched blue eggs the female lay
Not among Australia's most familiar birds in truth of them one can say
Were they often seen in parks and gardens they might be better known
But some bird lovers like them since they have ways of their own

Not the most familiar of birds since one them does not often see
But in woodland quite distinctive in their pleasant melody
Not among Australia's prettiest in their feathers of gray and brown
They call out peter peter in the wood beyond the town.

Jack

Sometimes Jack talks about his granddad the rebel Irishman
Who in his youth in County Cork fought against the Black and Tan
But Jack claims to know nothing of Ireland since he has never been there
In fact beyond Warrnambool City he has not lived anywhere
He says granddad did hate the English but hatred is not in my life
How can i hate the British when i love my English wife
The mother of our two lovely teenage daughters she means so much to me
And unlike granddad did i do not carry the mental scars of a war history
His grandad died when he was a boy near forty years ago
A warrior to his very end though time had become his foe
Jack in his mid forties his brown hair turning gray
He is one i see often though not every day
He likes telling stories of his Irish grandfather who as a young man
In the County of Cork fought the Black and Tan.

You Do Need Some Fear

If you are a non swimmer from deep water stay clear
Since death is an ally of the one without fear
Many who live without fear have been known to die young
Though the dead never hear when their praises are sung
Most who have played with death are not living today
At a young age in eternal rest their remains lay
One is in need of some fear in the World to survive
It is a good feeling just to be alive
Although you are poor and experiencing stress
Your life is the greatest gift you do possess
Much better days of you may be ahead
But there is never a future for the dead
And if you are a non swimmer from deep water stay clear
For to survive in the World you do need some fear.

Live And Let Live

Live and let live as the wise one does say
And never harm anyone in any way
In word or deed never drag anyone down
As some are known to do in their quest for renown
Good in the World you are one who can do
Treat other people as you would like them to treat you
Put into practice the theory of give to receive
On such a life philosophy one has to believe
Every good deed you perform in Karma it's own dividend pay
That kindness begets kindness seems true for to say
If you are kind to the one who of kindness is in need
Then to that person you are a true friend indeed
They always receive those who willingly give
And practice the theory in live and let live.

Bill Boro

Bill Boro a big bloke broad shouldered and tall
beside him most big men physically seem rather small
Dark haired in his mid twenties he lives with his brown haired partner Ann
And their brown haired three years old daughter Emily an easy going fellow Bill is a happy man
A carpenter by trade he works hard for his pay
But he is one who makes the most of every day
Not arrogant or aggressive in any way
Just a gentle giant of him one can say
A paid up member of the town's football club
At the weekend he enjoys a few beers at the pub
He loves his child and partner to him credit is due
Since to his higher self he is one who is true
A gentle giant of a man well over two meters tall
And beside him most big men look physically small.

Chrissie Mullane

As nice a person as one could wish for to meet
Chrissie of Drominahilla near the Town of Millstreet
For many years she lived at the Priests Cross in Millstreet as the late Pat Mullane's wife
It is so sad to learn that she has lost her gift of life

Though she is one who had outlived her physical prime
For her family and many friends this is such a sad time
She was kind and honorable in every way
And Millstreet all the poorer for her passing today

Since us humans are mortals why otherwise pretend
This life journey we are on for us all has to end
Each day for us to our last one day more near
And the farewell bell one the deceased never hear

It is not how long or short your life is but on how well you live
And Chrissie had so much love and kindness in her for to give
And those who willingly give can expect to receive
On such a philosophy for living life one can only believe

Sadly in the flesh never more to be seen at the Priests Cross
And her death to Millstreet must be counted as a loss
Above St Mary's in view of Cashman's Hill the January sky may be gray
But Chrissie is at peace in the earth where she lay.

In Ireland Today

It is quite cold today in the wind driven sleet
Where the bravest would not dare for to walk on bare feet
In the wet rushy fields where the waterways meet
Half an hour west if you walk from the Town of Millstreet
The Boggeraghs wearing their January hats of snow
And the rivers bank high to the Blackwater flow
In the farmyard sheds the cattle are bellowing for silage or hay
The hunger is in them on a cold Winter's day
The song of a bird one never does hear
In January in Ireland such a cold time of year
Many cold and wet nights and days from the first flowers of Spring
When the deciduous trees will grow new leaves and the nesting songbirds will sing
The north winds blowing cold seems that more rain is on the way
The sun it will not shine in Ireland today.

The Words A Fair Go

Some people in their thinking do seem rather small
Their idea of a fair go does not include all
Those they see as different to them from their circle they exclude
And in some of their ways they seem racist and rude
The words of a fair go to all always should apply
Though this of some people some choose to deny
Red is the blood we are all born with to bleed
And this does apply to every gender, race and creed
A fair go is not a fair go if it does not include everyone
As well as the wealthy celebrities to the poorest and their daughter and son
Many who use the words a fair go by their actions stand accused
That a beautiful saying by them is being abused
Since many who use the words a fair go exclude quite a few
And this is not saying anything that is new.

The Stranger

To all of the patrons he was a stranger in the pub in the old country town
Though than they were he was known more widely and his was a greater renown
Yet none of them seemed to know of him as a recognizable face
To them he was just one more stranger a fellow from another place

Some of the regulars in small groups casually did glance his way
But to him a stranger among them they had nothing for to say
He sat there on a bar stool by the counter drinking his beer on his own
Yet the stranger among them to many was well known

In their small groups they chatted about sports and the greats of football
Such things that did not interest him in any way at all
On his way to an art exhibition at a bigger town he had booked in for the night at a motel
A break from the driving it would suit him well

In the Art World his is a widely known name
But in the outback town the stranger to everyone is a stranger to fame
Yet he felt quite happy to be not known by sight
And he did enjoy his few hours out of the limelight

Next morning the sun did shine bright on a beautiful day
As he drove towards a bigger town along the highway
Tonight at the opening of his art exhibition his fans his praises would sing
The man who was not recognized where art is not an in thing

He was not a player or a member of any sporting club
The reason he was not recognized in the country town pub
Suppose it is each to their own as the wise one does say
This is how it is and it was and will always be this way.

So Many People Dying

So many people dying in homicides, war zones and acts of terrorism every day
Lack of empathy and compassion the main causes of this one could say
Extremism of any sort is not a good thing
So much suffering, death and grief their sort to humanity does bring
Of more with empathy, kindness and compassion the Human World of is in need
For a better World to live in they plant Karma's good seed
The kind and compassionate have the inner glow
And of they are such wonderful people to know
The power to do good only comes from within
It is up to every individual to make the World better to live in
By your acts of love and kindness good things for humanity you do
Of how you treat other people it is up to you
So many good people are dying every day
At the hands of their own kind in acts of foul play.

The Former Pride Of Macroom

Back in the mid sixties she was in her life's bloom
But where is she today the former Pride of Macroom
I know she left Macroom but did she return to there to stay
Or has she been ageing from there far away
Or does her bones forever in eternal rest lay?
What did become of her i for one cannot say
Back in the mid sixties this is going back in time
She was quite a beauty in her physical prime
But the nineteen sixties now seems long ago
And time as we know becomes everyone's foe
Did she give birth to chidren or become someone's partner or wife
Or as childless and single is she growing old in life
Or is she ever at rest in or far from Macroom?
Back in the nineteen sixties she was in her life's bloom.

Successful People

I read of and hear of successful people every day
But i ask myself what is success anyway
The wealthy and famous are linked to success
Though the laws of humility they do transgress

On saying this i am not saying anything that is new
That the humble among the known to be successful are only of the few
You would know of the old saying success gone to the head
One can say truer words have never been said

The mental side affects of success can be self conceit
Body language has a habit of not being discreet
This always does happen where big egos meet
When for attention with each other they always compete

The successful with humility are so very few
You may say to this do tell us what is new
The praise of admirers big egos create
Since the ego as such is not hard to inflate

If loss of humility by success can be brought about
This is something that i for one can do without
I just wish for to live out my natural life span
Without the burden of being known as a successful man.

A January Evening

Though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
In Nature no shortage of things for me to write rhymes about
The day it is warm the sun it is out
In this beautiful place in the far coastal south
The warm air full of the buzzings of bush flies and bees
On this beautiful January evening of just over twenty degrees
White butterflies seemingly dancing in the timid breeze
Above the gardens and paddocks and the sunlit trees
Above the sunlit paddocks in the sunny sky
The dark welcome swallows chirping as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects these speedsters of flight
In Nature there is many a beautiful sight
Earthly Utopia cannot be that too far away
From this beautiful place on this beautiful day.

In Duhallow And Sliabh Luachra Today

It Is cold in the fields where the rushes do grow
Where Finnow bank high to the Blackwater flow
The chilly wild gales from the northlands do blow
And the Boggeragh mountains are covered in snow
There were heavy sleety showers of rain yesterday
And by the overcast sky more rain is on the way
The cold and wet weather for three months may stay
In the farmyard sheds cattle are bellowing for silage or hay
In Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra days of cold, storm and rain
And brown stormwater flowing bank high in every waterway and drain
Many ageing birds due to cold and hunger may not see the Spring
They have sung their last songs and this seems a sad thing
In January the sky it is sunless and gray
It is cold and wet in Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra today.

Praise For Me

Praise for me on my mind does take toll
Since it renders my ego out of control
And a swollen ego can be a soul destroying thing
So i would prefer that others my praises would not sing
What i dislike in others i dislike in me
Since we are what we dislike in others though many with this would not agree
Look at the famous singers how arrogant some of them are
As they sing their songs and strum their guitars
Praise it has gone to their heads it does seem
And too much of this not healthy for their self esteem
I do feel if i knew of their sort of fame
That like them i would feel exactly the same
And to feel superior is not a good thing
So i would prefer that others my praises would not sing.

Do Not Leave It To Others

Though politicians in their policies on our lives in some ways impact
Of the truth of the matter there is only one fact
That if you wish for a better World to live in
Do not leave it to others with yourself you begin
And what i say of this to you also applies to me
Though many on this thinking may well not agree
For the sins of humanity others i should not blame
Passing the responsibilty for this is another name
And since self i8mprovement only does grow within
The individual mind if everyone became more compassionate humanity would win
Your worth as a person is sown in the kind deeds you have done
And the power to be more kind and compassionate is in everyone
If you genuinely want a better World to live in
Do not leave it to others with yourself you begin.

The One Who Is Free

The one who is free live as she or he choose
With nothing to gain in life or nothing to lose
Without anyone for to tell them what to do
I am not of that sort and what about you?
Though this is a question of yourself you must ask
On your day to day life are you tied to a task
Do you work under a manager or are you a boss
And worrying that this year your business is running at a financial loss
Your bank manager threatening to close your credit down
And repossess your family home in the top end of the town
The one who has big worries is one who is not free
At least anyhow this is how it seems to be
Those who are free have nothing to gain or nothing to lose
And are happy in their lives and live how they choose.

A Warm January Day

It is a warm evening near forty degrees
And warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze
That blow up the hill from the park by the bay
For January thus far the warmest day
Though the weather forecast has a cool change on the way
The beauty of Nature amazing to the eyes
Of millions of beautiful white butterflies
Above the garden flower beds and around the sunlit trees
Seemingly dancing in the evening breeze
In the shade of the trees cattle chewing their cuds lay
Like us for them it is too warm a day
To be out when the full sun is hot in the sky
On a day that is humid and warm and dry.

The Common People

The common people includes you and me
We are told who we are and what we should be
And on how that we ought to be classified
By those at the top of the social divide

We are the people supposed not to dream
Never to be on the successful team
For some to win big we had to lose out
This is what human life seems all about

Always the strangers to wealth and renown
Our sort are the unsung of every town
Other people's losses has not been our gain
Though our dreams of self betterment we do retain

We do have a vote on election day
But after this on running the Country do not have a say
Like the rose tree that has failed for to flower
We never will hold positions of power

As the common people we well may be known
But we are individuals with dreams of our own
And those who feel better than us like us born to die
A mere fact of our existence and fact never lie.

The Never Satisfied

A nice home to live in and enough to eat and drink should fulfil anyone's need
But some people with this not happy those obsessed with material greed
With some enough is never enough by demon greed they are possessed
Never happy with a nice wife and healthy children by life they do never feel blessed

Some people they are never happy with them enough is never enough
Not short on any of life's necessities yet they feel they are doing it tough
They want to be more wealthy and famous than anyone else on their street
But those happy with what life brings them with others for success never compete

Of the wealthy and famous celebrities the aspirational masses the praises do sing
In the early years of the twenty first century celebrity worship it is the in thing
But most of the people they worship not happy though in the public eyes well to the fore
There is so much truth in the saying that much can lead to the need for more

A nice home to live in and a nice family but some with this not satisfied
To have more than enough money to live on to their sort is a sense of pride
To be of the wealthy and famous their sort to in life does aspire
And the multi millionaire celebrities they do look up to and admire.

Out There In The Quiet Countryside

Perhaps i am anti social and this is nothing of for to feel proud
I yearn for a quiet place far from the noisy crowd
Out there in the quiet countryside far from the busy street
Content in my own company where the creek and river meet

Where the shrike thrush is whistling in feathers of brown and gray
And the kangaroos are out of cover grazing in the gloaming of the day
From the industrial noise and pollution in the big town one cannot hide
But there is always peace and beauty where Nature does reside

Far from where humans are living one does find stress release
Out there in the quiet countryside where Nature is at peace
The loudest sound in Nature it is a natural sound
There is no peace and beauty where humans in numbers do abound

Out there in the quiet countryside far from the noisy town
The night creatures out of hiding in the twilight after sundown
Factory pollution and noisy machinery the legacy of human greed
A nice home in the copuntryside would suit me fine indeed.

The Threat Of A Nuclear War

Everytime i turn on the radio news of more tweeting threats i do hear
Of Donald J Trump trying to instil in other Nations leaders fear
His most recent boast is his nuclear button is bigger than that of Kim Jong Un
In such dangerous and threatening talk there is not any fun

The U S of A have a President with the mentality of a disturbed boy
In his possession a nuclear button does seem far too dangerous a toy
In a nuclear war between the U S and North Korea millions of people would die
For to say any different would be stating a lie

Two seemingly mentally disturbed characters with such destructive power at their disposal seems scary indeed
Of leaders like Donald J Trump and Kim Jong Un the Human World is not in need
They never talk peace only death, destruction, suffering and tears
The effects of a nuclear war would be felt in the World for decades of years

Though many their praises are known for to sing
The thought of dangerous men with dangerous weapons at their disposal is a scary thing
With Donald J Trump and Kim Jong Un Threatening each other every day
The threat of a nuclear war is with us to stay.

A Warm January Day

The day it is warm and sunny and dry
White butterflies in their millions dancing in the blue sky
Many of their tiny bodies lying on the roadway
Victims of cars and trucks their lives have been shortened by at least a day
Since going by entomoligists the life of a butterfly is not that long
A few days at most they would not have it wrong
A natural thing of beauty and an amazing sight
Millions of them dancing in the warm sunlight
Of Nature's ways so little i can claim to know
And my wonder of her only does seem to grow
The southern January though warm a beautiful time of year
And most days the blue sky is sunny and clear
And everywhere you look dancing white butterflies
Such a beautiful sight to bedazzle the eyes.

Stay Positive

What of the future can anyone say
Only know that tomorrow is another day
The past lives in memory though otherwise dead
But who knows what awaits us in the days ahead
Most of the mistakes of your past by you cannot be undone
And tomorrow will dawn but not for everyone
The now is what matters though time does tick on
And at the stroke of midnight to day will be gone
Just try to enjoy your day this the best you can do
Time does not wait for me and does not wait for you
And remember if you are doing it tough you are not on your own
Of hard time so many only have ever known
Stay positive good times may not be far away
And tomorrow for you may be a better day.

You Too Have Your Story

Those without a life story to tell are quite rare
You too have your stories with others for to share
Of how you were often down but never counted out
You do know what living life is all about
You do know of this thing known as inner strife
But you carry on with the battles of life
You may never become the toast of the town
But you do know how it feels like to feel down
In a Human World where billions of people for success compete
With a new challenge in life every day you do meet
And hope for a better future in you is not dead
You feel positive good times of you are ahead
Hope springs eternal as the wise one does say
And better times for you may not be far away
You too have your story of life for to tell
Of how against the odds you are doing quite well.

As The Wise One Says

As the wise one says you can only live to be the best you can be
With this there are many who would surely agree
On your climb on the social ladder to greater renown
In your words or deeds never drag anyone down
Any unkind things of others one never should say
Or try to harm anyone in any way
And try to practice the truth in to each their own
On the seeds of compassion good Karma is sown
For a better World to live in something great you can do
By trying to become a far better you
Self promotion it has become quite an in thing
In an age when many their own praises are quite willing to sing
But they do not make the World better for to live in
Since the power to do good in love of others does come from within.

The Last Of The Great Shlaunmen

The last of the great shlaunmen in eternal rest lay
A Seasonal worker who worked hard for his pay
He worked in the brown bogs from here far away
Shlauning dark peat in April and May

He was one who did not have an easy life
He worked in hard jobs to support his children and wife
His wife too deceased their sons and daughters showing time's decay
Among the ageing grandparents of today

In Summer for farmers he worked making silage and hay
In life nothing easy ever did come his way
But in his prime years he became widely known
As a champion peat cutter in a class of his own

Until eventually time too did become his foe
He passed on from life many Seasons ago
Their prime years go quickly and people grow old
Though today of his greatness as a shlaunman stories are told

One who laboured hard for his every take home pay
A lorry of peat he often cut in a day
But from the cares of life for us all there is a final release
And the last of the great shlaunmen he now is at peace.

Red Is The Blood

It does not matter who you are or the color of your skin
The life's journey that will end for all from a woman does begin
With each other we share so much in common our similarities are not rare
It is the same air they do breathe the pauper and the billionaire
Born as mortals into life time on us ticks away
For each and every one of us a final night and day
The billionaire and the pauper a known stranger to fame
By the one known as the Life's Reaper are treated as the same
No escaping the Reaper of lives since death it is for all
For the wealthiest people in the World there is a final Fall
No matter what you do achieve your journey in life will end
The one who swings the scythe of death does not have any friend
In many ways we are similar quite similar indeed
No matter your color or your race red is the blood you bleed.

The Amazing Dan O Donoghue

My memories of Dan O Donoghue the decades does span
One can say of him he remains quite a man
Though his physical best years behind him and he is wheelchair bound
By his photograph he remains strong looking and healthy and of mind rather sound

As a young man one who worked hard no job for him too tough
But i recall him as quite a good fellow one in his ways kind enough
One in life who has had his huge crosses to bear
For many years he has been in a wheelchair

As a breeder of coursing greyhounds nowadays his legend has grown
The likeable Dan to many in Ireland is well known
As the saying goes a good man cannot be kept down
Dan O Donoghue is a credit to old Millstreet Town

His life's tribulation a story to inspire
There is so much about him for one to admire
Many in his position would feel hope from their life had gone
But this amazing fellow remains in good spirits and keeps on keeping on

The great love of life he always had he does retain
And his indomitable spirit with him does remain
The tough challenges life has given him with bravery he does meet
This man among men in the Town of Millstreet.

Enda Kenny In Millstreet Town

On the afternoon of Thursday the seventeeth of February 2011 Fine Gael Leader Enda Kenny and his entourage arrived in Millstreet Town
On Enda's political tour of Ireland in search of Irish political history and renown
The handsome to be Irish Taoiseach with the well practiced smile
To charm the Irish voters to his side proved to have the necessary guile and wile

The loyal Fine Gael supporters were out in strength that day
For to welcome Enda to Millstreet Town in a loud rapturous hooray
And Enda as usual was quite friendly and warm
He shook many hands and greeted strangers as old friends and put on the charm

And before leaving Millstreet he made a stirring political speech
Though it was to the politically converted that he did preach
And after he was back on his drive to renown
To meet and greet and make more speeches in another town

Enda Kenny may never be seen in Millstreet Town again
The reason for this it's own self does explain
In twenty seventeen he gave the Taoiseach job away
Leo Varadkar is the top political rooster in the Ireland of today

Except for verbally bashing each other for years in the Irish Dail
They never did anything for the majority of the people of Ireland Fine Gael or Fianna Fail
but having said this most politicians are out for their own power and fame
Though for this suppose them one hardly can blame

His Dail seat in Mayo at the next General Election Enda Kenny will not defend
But he will not go without on this you can depend
On his huge pension he can live in luxury with his wife
And in any case good luck to him in his new life.

What It Is All About

Why the politically powerful in their own political parties have their greatest foes
Does seem quite understandable one does have to suppose
For to be leader of your Country with the aspirational in your own party you must compete
And for political party leaders new challenges to their authority every day they do meet
And to become the political leader of Your Country your party the opposition party has to beat
Three to four years on the opposition benches is the punishment for an election defeat
For the beaten party in a general election there is soul searching and self doubt
As in life in politics winning is what it is all about
In parliament between the government and opposition members insults are traded every day
And nice things of each other they seldom does have to say
That for winners there has to be losers as most realize
And the winning political party on election night does take the big prize
For the beaten party leaders the political knives are out
In politics as in life power is what it is all about.

When You Think Back In Time

When you think back in time to the long gone years
Have you ever felt for them you have not shed all of your tears
Like you there are many who too feels this way
Perhaps part of the ageing process in truth one might say

The past as is said in the forever gone
But good and bad memories of it in us does live on
Each dawn we do wake to one nearer to our last day
And our biological clocks ever ticking away

We live in an age of commercialism and material greed
Of a new form of enlightenment humanity is in need
Self love to narcissism one can say quite a different thing
Of their own praises many only like to sing

Those with a genuine love of self do have love for others to share
But sadly their sort as ever seems rare
Such people are known to be compassionate and kind
And on helping those in need of helping are always willingly inclined

Love of self and narcissism are of a different seed
Of a new form of enlightenment humanity is in need
To say i am different to the majority would be telling a lie
Like many i too only live for the i

When you think back in time to the long gone years
Do you think for the past you have shed all of your tears
Our biological clocks ever ticking away
And tomorrow will dawn to another new day.

Well Worthy Of Recall

Not everyone of you does have nice things to say
Though you are a good person in your own kind way
The words of a wise one worthy of recall
You may well win some but you will not win them all

The flaw finders others may love to criticize
But then their sort never seem for to realize
That in their negative opinions of others negativity for themselves they create
And their friends in numbers never accumulate

You only can live to be the best you can be
And though of human flaws like all you are not free
You are not one of the trash talkers of the town
Who in putting down others do leave themselves down

Live and let live as a truism remain
The meaning in this itself always explain
The words of a wise one well worthy of recall
Though you may win many you will not win them all.

In Koroit Today

For January it is a gray looking sky
The sun is not out though the weather is dry
A weather temperature high for the day of nineteen degrees
With a certain coolness in the evening breeze
On the second day of January of the year twenty eighteen
Despite the recent warm weather the Nature strips of the town looking green
By the long range weather forecast more warm weather on the way
So one ought to be thankful for this pleasantly cool Summer's day
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
The warbling songs of the magpies so pleasant to hear
And birds familiar to many and familiar to me
There is no mistaking the song of the pee wee
And though the sun in the gray sky is hidden away
The blackbirds are singing in Koroit today.

In Their Compassion And Kindness

They may never be of the very well known
But the seeds of good karma in their kindness is sown
In the good deeds they perform for them no financial gain
And recognition as such they feel no desire to attain
Their sort never become the toasts of the town
The people always willing for to help the financially down
And though few ever willing their praises to sing
Some joy to so many poor people they do bring
If everyone were like them there would not be poverty
Of war and malnutrition and homelessness the World would be free
They ought to be worthy of far greater note
Since of helping poor people their time and talents they devote
In their compassion and kindness great people indeed
And of more of their sort the human World is in need.

One Who Loves Nature

The Songs of the birds joy to his mind does bring
And the praises of Nature he does love to sing
He says he does learn from Nature every day
We never stop learning it does seem this way
Every day of Nature he learns something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
And the more we do learn the more we realize
That we do know so little this not a surprise
His bond to Nature remains ever strong
He knows every species of bird in the wood by his home by it's appearance or song
Sports and socializing and celebrity worship does not interest him at all
He has never been to a game of football
One who does love Nature and is known for to say
That of her he does learn something new every day.

The Evening Is Warm

The evening is warm close to thirty degrees
With only the slightest of a southerly breeze
The warbling songs of the magpies familiar to hear
On the very first day of another new year
In Nature there is many a beautiful sight
White butterflies dancing in the warm sunlight
They breed and in a few days do grow old and die
And go back to Nature as you will and i
In Nature as ever so much beauty to be seen
On this first day in January two thousand and eighteen
The distinctive songs of the pee wees so pleasant to hear
One does hear them sing every day of the year
In this beautiful place in this Land of the south
Never a shortage of things for to write rhymes about.

New Year's Eve In Warrnambool

New Year's Eve and the weather is breezy and cool
In the coastal City of old Warrnambool
Around 7 pm and lots of festive cheer
People feeling merry on wine, spirits and beer
A farewell to the year of two thousand and seventeen
And hopes for the future of better days to be seen
The clock ticking on another year all but dead
And hopes for the future of better days ahead
In the Warrnambool pubs there is music, laughter, Joy and song
Towards the birth of a new year time ticking along
The revellers farewell the old year in beer, spirits and wine
And will welcome twenty eighteen singing Auld Lang Syne
The happy sound of people celebrating so pleasant to hear
As they party to welcome another New Year.

New Year's Eve By The Hopkins

The shrike thrush in feathers of light fawn and gray
Is whistling on trees by the old waterway
Known as the Hopkins River that crawls deep, wide and slow
Through the valley between the high ground by Warrnambool where gums and wattles grow
Towards the Blue Hole in view of Moyjil to the Pacific shore
It has flowed forever and will forever more
In new year's eve by the Hopkins in the green and brown countryside
Away from the traffic noise peace and beauty abide
In the breeze the sweet scent of grass mowed for silage or hay
How pleasant to be by the Hopkins today
From where the revellers celebrate in the pubs of Warrnambool from here not far
A quarter of an hour at most by car
On a pleasant evening of sporadic sunshine of twenty degrees
With the sweet scent of mowed grass blowing in the freshening breeze

Old Dave

One in his life's twilight without phobias or fears
Old Dave was a shearer for fifty one years
Not going into old age like most old blokes and old dears
For the what used to be he does not have any tears

In pubs in bush towns one who did drink many a beer
He has memories of sweating for his pay in shearing sheds and nights of barroom cheer
And though alcohol he has not given away
He does not drink as much as he used to today

For one in his eighties he looks healthy and well
The fruit cakes and pies that his wife Ann bakes at the local markets he does sell
Not in any great hurry to eternal rest in the grave
He is one who does love life the octogenarian Dave

He and Ann his wife of near sixty years are a great grand mum and a great grand dad
One without tears for the past for the now he feels glad
A wrinkled old fellow his hair silver gray
He says he is happy in his life today

As tough as old boots of him one can say
In his younger years he sweated for his every pay
In their market stall he sells the pies and cakes baked by Ann his wife
Old Dave in his eighties is one who loves life.

Laughter

Laugh and the whole World laughs with you as a truism remain
The reason laughter can be infectious one does not need to explain
It does seem to spread in wave ripples with the one laughing others laugh along
Those who say that laughter is the best of medicine are those who have not got it wrong
If you feel sad and look dejected few of you do wish to know
Even some of those near and dear to you apart from you do seem to grow
But those who can laugh rather easily the joy in them do share around
Wherever they are there is good humor and mirth it does seem to abound
Sad people are never popular as they do not have the inner glow
Happy people make friends easily others of them wish to know
When you are with one who enjoy laughing the joy in your mind levels raise
Laughter brings joy to a sad place and it's benefits worthy of praise
Laugh and the whole World laughs with you with this saying few would disagree
And that it is a wonderful medicine is how it does seem to be.

Life Can Be So Unpredictable

A millionaire many times over and materially quite a wealthy man
With dreams to become materially and financially wealthier for far greater things he did plan
In his early thirties with a beautiful wife and two young daughters and his best years of him ahead
One of the town's wealthiest people and much of him written and said
A man who was admired by many and his praises so many did sing
But life can be so unpredictable who knows what tomorrow will bring
Money can be such a huge asset but a long life to you will not guarantee
To plan for years into the future perhaps is not such a good idea
Good health it is most important the young multi millionaire became quite ill
He was diagnosed with leuchaemia a blood cancer destined for to kill
Anybody who falls victim to it his money his life could not save
The town's wealthiest young man is in the cemetery now in his grave
A millionaire many times over with great plans for the years ahead
But life can be so unpredictable and no future plans for the dead.

Of The Praises Of Celebrities

Of the praises of celebrities the masses do sing
Heroine and hero worshipping with many does seem the in thing
But most of the greatly admired of the Human World of today
Are far from good people and quite flawed in some way
Many of them narcissistic and self conceited and in their thinking quite small
Of them in truth one can say that they are not nice people at all
Yet so many people them does greatly admire
And of singing their praises never does seem to tire
Of the egotistical successful person it can be said
That success has gone to her or to his head
Not many a down to earth multi millionaire
The humble successful are to say the least rare
Of the praises of celebrities so many do sing
In the twenty first century this is an in thing.

The Old Bloke In The Mirror

Every time i look in a mirror an old bloke is staring at me
Balding, gray haired he looks a bit wrinkled in his early seventies maybe
He does not appear to be happy though when i smile at him he smile
I thought of getting to know him better but then felt it may not be worth my while
For when i say hello to him his lips move but to my greeting he does not reply
My efforts to get to know him better of me he feels fit to deny
And now when i look in a mirror at him i only do stare
And he stares back at me in silence we have nothing in common to share
The old bloke i see in the mirror i never will get for to know
Between us there is no connection that into a friendship would grow
Perhaps we have nothing in common since to me he has nothing to say
We stare at each other in silence perhaps it is better it should be this way
Every time i look in my mirror an old wrinkled fellow i do see
And the strangeness that i do see in him is the strangeness that i see in me.

All I Receive For My Rhyme

All i receive for my rhyme sometimes a well done with a smile
And sometimes does rhyming pay well and has it been all worth your while
In this the twenty first century literary styles changing fast
Prosaic poetry a literary in thing and rhyme is a thing of the past
All of the good rhyme poets are dead the literary critics does have us believe
Yet like every know it all with their words they can deceive
Rhyming a hobby little more for those who enjoy penning rhyme
And to those who yearn to become financial millionaires hobbies are a waste of time
Rhymers are many some say and poets are only of the few
Something you would have heard of before and in it there is nothing new
All i receive for my rhyme only the odd words of praise
Which makes me feel i am not wasting my time and to my spirits give a raise
And never does fail to inspire me for to keep on rhyming on
Even though time is not on my side and my best days are in the long gone.

Beauty Is In The Eyes Of

Beauty is in the eyes of the behoder as some does say
And relevant to the individual it does seem this way
Some see beauty in another person some see beauty in a flower or a tree
Beauty has many faces is how it seems to be
The beauty in Nature we see every day
A beauty that for to see we do not have to pay
Though on what is an object of beauty not all does agree
Through different eyes difference we do see
But then how boring we would be for want of a better name
If on all things we see that we all thought the same
Each to their own as a truism does remain
The meaning in this does one need to explain
That beauty is in the eyes of the beholder happens to be true
Though what is to me may not be so to you.

Of The What Used To Be

Time has left me older i am ageing far south
Of the fields of the badger and the waterways of the brown trout
And life's journey for me may end far away
Of 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
And where i once was looked on as one of their own
Today there to many i would not be known
Perhaps i will never more see Clara Hill
Or hear the babble of the silver tongued rill
Flowing through Claraghatlea from high Claramore
To the big waterways to the Atlantic shore
The biological clock does keep ticking on me
And i only have memories of the what used to be.

Rufous Whistlers

Once seen and once heard birds you never again can get wrong
Rufous whistlers are known for their loud melodious song
Why they sing when thunder or loud noise they do hear
To even the well informed on birdlife not obviously clear

The male white patch under throat, rufous unders, wings and back slaty gray
Birds that i do know of but do not see every day
In cup shaped nest of twigs lined with grasses the plainer female from September to February
Lay two or three olive blotched brown eggs in fork of branch of tree

Their melodious whistler song to it has a distinctive ring
Some call them the thunder birds since during thunder they sing
Since they are not often seen they are not well known
And one can say of them that they have ways of their own

Rufous whistlers sing when thunder or loud noise they do hear
And why this is so is not obviously clear
Even to experts on birdlife and for one such as me
From Nature we learn in all we hear and see.

People of Kindness And Compassion

People of kindness and compassion with others know how to share
But sadly their sort are becoming more rare
They may never become the heroes and heroines of the town
But they never ignore the financially down
The hungry and the homeless and those doing it tough
Who knows about hardship and have to sleep rough
Some of them their life's journey prematurely end
But in the kind and compassionate they do have a friend
Helping the poor in the refugee camps of the World you will find
The wonderful people who are compassionate and kind
The people who do their good deeds every day
By helping the most needy without the rewards of pay
Of more people of compassion and kindness the Human World is in need
For their future good Karma they keep planting the seed.

In Mt Alexander Shire

The bare and brown paddocks of moisture have long been sucked dry
And the sun glowing bright in the blue morning sky
For central Victoria another warm day
And rain that is needed does seem far away
From the Shire of Mt Alexander that is known far and wide
For it's gold mining past in the dry countryside
The miners long deceased but signs of their work to be found
In the unfilled holes they made in the dry and hard ground
To central Victoria men even came from China for to mine for gold
Though few miners grew wealthy from their labors as has often been told
Of their greed for Earth's riches many unfilled holes today
And they do not need gold in the place where they now lay
Welcome swallows above the bare paddocks in the sunny sky
With the sun on their dark wings in pursuit of flying insects fly.

Why Are

Why are wealthy celebrities and well known sportspeople so greatly admired
Of listening to people singing their praises i for one do grow tired
Of their sort in any way i do not feel inspired
As some would say they leave a lot for to be desired
To make heroes and heroines out of the privileged does seem strange to me
In a World where many live in extreme poverty
The admiration of celebrities has become an in thing
In a World where the praises of those who help the poor few do bother to sing
A World where many have their material gains on public display
Is a sad reflection on us only true to say
Since so many are losing out on the social divide
And the gap between the wealthy and poor does keep growing ever wide
You will not find many multi millionaires who drive expensive cars
Enjoying a few beers in working class bars.

Of Boxing Day

The day it is warm over thirty degrees
Without any coolness in the southerly breeze
That blow from the hills above paddocks bare and brown
In the dry countryside by the old country town

The creeks at a trickle and bone dry every drain
And the sunburnt paddocks could do with some rain
The long range weather forecast is sunny and dry
And no signs of rain clouds in the mostly blue sky

The sun it is shining very warm today
Though the weather quite typical for late December only true for to say
It may even grow a bit warmer in January
Last Summer we had some days of up to forty three

Yet the warbling songs are very pleasant to hear
Of the birds who do sing every day of the year
The silver billed magpies of the beautiful song
Once seen and once heard them you never again can get wrong

White butterflies seemingly dancing in the afternoon breeze
That gently stir the glossy green leaves on the trees
In the warmth of the afternoon of Boxing Day
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray.

Not Meant To Have Rhyme

The thing known as good poetry not meant to have in it rhyme
In literature a lot has changed one might say in fifty years of time
Rhyme once a popular form of poetry by literary critics now dismissed as doggerel
And rhymers have been condemned to literature's poetasters hell
What used to be is not now as time brings with it change
And though rhymers by literary critics no longer seen as poets may seem a little strange
These self professed literary critics what true poetry is define
To them rhyme like some brands of wine to the wine taster is inferior wine
What true poetry is and should be is not for me to say
Only know that rhymers are out of favor among the literary critics of today
And they have convinced many on what true poetry ought to be
Though with them in their opinions everyone does not agree
As dead as the dodo is of rhyme one well might say
Of what was a popular form of poetry in a by gone day.

For One To Grow Wealthier

For one to grow wealthier others grow poorer human life it is this way
There are winners and many losers in the World every day
It is now as it was always and this is how it will always be
Financial gains for some it does seem for others lead to poverty
Wealthy celebrities can thank the masses for the privileges they enjoy
The child of the very poor parents to play with does not have a toy
Even in the World's wealthiest Countries many people doing it tough
Without a home for to live in they live hungry and sleep rough
In a Human World where billions of people for jobs with each other compete
There are many who are homeless those known as people of the street
Life for them a constant battle just to manage to survive
From the suburbs of the wealthy to where they live just a short drive
For one to grow wealthier others grow poorer as is said i will say again
This is how it is and it will be and how it always will remain.

Nora O' Keeffe

Such sad news out of Millstreet on New Year's Day
Con O' Keeffe's wife Nora from life has passed away
A mother and grandmother she had lived in Millstreet for quite a while
She was a beautiful person with a beautiful smile
Well loved by those who had known her for many years
And she was well worthy of being farewelled in tears
One who in her life had made many a friend
And so sad to learn her journey has come to an end
From life's cares for us all there will come a release
In St Mary's by Cashman's Hill she now is at peace
So kind and compassionate and free of conceit and guile
She will be remembered for her beautiful smile
Of people like she was humanity of more in need
As she was a very good person indeed.

From The Rock Of Ages

Overlooking the Town of Maldon and the wide brown countryside
From the rocks known as the Rock Of Ages one can see far and wide
Kilometers of wide brown country as far as the eyes can see
An unheralded wonder of Nature is how this does seem to be
This old brown and rugged country has inspired song, story and rhyme
It was old in long gone ages back there in the Dreaming Time
Where the first Australians lived and hunted going back cenuries ago
They had lived alone with Nature for sixty thousand years or so
Until people of the northern Countries came to this Land of the south
And the people of the Dreamtime to the newcomers lost out
And something of beauty lost forever time always brings change about
That time that rusts iron creates changes of this there is not any doubt
Above Maldon from the Rock Of Ages one can see brown country far and wide
Centuries ago from the ancient rocks Australia's first people viewed this countryside.

Christmas In Ireland

It is cold and wet by the mountains today
In the farmyard sheds cattle are bellowing for silage or hay
People for their Christmas dinner enjoy vegetables and turkey and red meat
And as a dessert cream and plum pudding eat
In their centrally heated living rooms after they dine
They wash their food down with stout , beer and wine
Out of the cold and the rain and the strenghtening breeze
Soughing in the naked branches of the deciduous trees
The sun behind gray clouds is hidden away
It has not been sighted for many a day
Christmas in Ireland is a windy, cold and wet time of year
Where birdsong is a thing that one never does hear
The old hills wear their white hats of December snow
And the waterways bank high in brown flood waters flow.

Christmas Morning In Maldon

Above the Town of Maldon in a sky of blue and gray
The sun is getting warmer on the morning of Christmas Day
The magpies songs are carrying in the freshening mountain breeze
Soughing in the leafy branches of the gum and wattle trees

The dry brown country in view of Tarrengower could do with lots of rain
The creeks down to a trickle and bone dry every drain
And though rain does come in it's own time as often has been said
The long range weather forecast has more warm days ahead

For the Town and high countryside of Maldon that looks so brown and dry
Where it has not rained that much at all since Winter and July
Yet today around the barbeques the families will celebrate
And there will not be a shortage of alcohol or of food on any plate

The mountain Town of Maldon serene in the sunlight
In the park a small group of carol singers are singing Silent Night
Though many in bed hung over and not feeling all that well
From a heavy night of drinking in the Kangaroo Hotel

On Christmas morning in Maldon in the sky of blue and gray
The sun is brightly shining it will be a warm day
The high countryside in view of Tarrengower is looking dry and brown
But people will celebrate today in the sunlit mountain Town.

From The Mistakes

From the mistakes of our ancestral leaders wisdom we ought to gain
But our present political leaders the mistakes of the past keep repeating again
More wars are declared and more people needlessly die
The only thing our political leaders have learned from the past is to know how better how to lie
And one lie leads to another as the wise one does say
And our politicians to us tell more lies every day
They tell us who our allies are and who we should trust
And try to portray themselves as the honorable and just
Any opportunity to tarnish those they refer to as their enemies they do not fail to seize
And more wars in the World mean more refugees
In boats seeking refuge that our government from our shores turn away
Though our government helped to make them stateless which seems sad to say
Every day of more wars we do hear of and read
And like lies one war to another and then to another does lead.