On Seeing Welcome Swallows

Above the sunlit brown paddocks in the blue and gray sky
The dark welcome swallows in pursuit of flying insects fly
For hours on end flying at such a great speed
For aerial predators to catch far too quick and nimble a bird breed
To see them twist and turn whilst in full flight
For to say the least quite an amazing sight
They fly without resting for most of the day
Swallows are born to fly of them one can say
They travel by air much further in their short life span
Than the World's most travelled woman or man
Not restricted by borders they do not have a territory to defend
For hours they fly every day and will do so until their life end
Above the brown paddocks in the blue and gray sky
With the sun on their dark wings the welcome swallows fly.

Our Greatest Friend

On our very existence on her we depend
And than her we do not have a better friend
Yet we keep on cutting her beautiful old growth trees down
For to build more houses and factories in the town
The one who does have the true magical powers
From tiny dark seeds she creates beautiful flowers
Without her we could not hope for to survive
Yet of any respect of her we do deprive
The one who does supply us with everything
Yet her praises so few of us ever does sing
All life forms including us humans one day
In the bosom of our Earth Mother destined to lay
On our very existence on her we depend
Yet few of us do look on her as a friend.

There Are Many Great People

There are many great people in the World of today
Who to help those in need of helping do go out of their way
Yet good people are not heroes of any town
Never any glory in helping the financially down
Yet recognition and praise is the last thing in the mind
Of the humble one who is selfless and compassionate and kind
And though they never does seek the credit they are due
To their higher selves the altruistic are true
Politicians, royals, sports people and celebrities in the news headlines every day
People into promotion of self in quite a big way
Yet the truly great people we never read of or hear about
Of recognition they always does seem to lose out
Not into promotion of self in any sort of a way
The unsung heroines and heroes of the Human World of today.

How Nice In The Park

How nice in the park in the evening sun
To hear children at their games laughing and having fun
Free of the stress adulthood to people bring
The great gift of youth is a wonderful thing
Sadly childhood is a thing that does not last
And the ageing have only memories of the past
When they played their fun games and ran up and down
In the warm sunshine in the park of the town
And only the memories are what does remain
Of what used to be and will not be again
Of when we were younger and at most times carefree
In the long ago and the what used to be
But only in memory time does not stand still
And people do not grow younger or never will.

At Moyjil

A place that is sacred to Australia's first race
Moyjil close to Warrnambool is a beautiful place
Overlooking where the Hopkins River into the Pacific flow
Of places to compare with it of only few of i do know

A beautiful place bordered by scrub and dwarf coastal trees
Where Warrnambool's first people had their corroborees
And fished in the river at the mouth of the sea shore
Sadly for their descendants a life not to last forever more

Myths and legends of Myjil of the Gundijtmara have travelled far and wide
This gem in the crown of south west Victoria's coastal countryside
Away from human made noise of the crowded street
Where the Hopkins River and the ocean does meet

On the sandy beach known as the Blue hole
People walk their dogs and enjoy peace of soul
In view of Moyjil to the Gundijtmara  a sacred place
Their legends live in history as Warrnambool's first race.

A Scene Such As This

The very thought mind appeasing is how it seems to be
Of our calmer moments of peace with harmony
Imagine sitting at a table on the balcony of a cafe overlooking the sea
Alone with your thoughts enjoying coffee or cake and tea
In the quiet of the evening in a coastal town
To the mewing of the gulls as the sun is going down
And the white waves of saltwater gently lapping on the sandy shore
In a memory to live with until death that will repeat itself forvere more
A break for your mind from your life's worries and stress
Such moments of self contentment brings us nearer to happiness
Overlooking the ocean as the sun is going down
From the balcony of a cafe in a coastal town
A scene such as this is not hard to visualize
And even such thoughts to self contentment gives rise

One Mistake Away

In this nuclear age would you not agree
That we are only one mistake away from World war three
And a nuclear war to humanity would come at a huge cost
When millions if not billions of human lives would be lost
Some of those with nuclear weapons at their disposal egotistical and do not seem very wise
One bombing gone wrong to a major catastrophe would give rise
In World war three all of humanity would lose
And death over life anyone sound of mind would not choose
Though many human beings would not be left alive
Mother Earth who feeds all life forms a nuclear war would survive
But the narcissistic with overblown egos the consequences of what their actions entail never take into account
And wiser counsel to their sort to little if anything does amount
And in this nuclear age few would disagree
That we are only one mistake away from World war three.

Always One Greater

You may be a strong man quite as strong as two
But remember there is always one stronger than you
You may be the biggest and strongest in your side of the town
And this seems a justifiable claim to renown
And though your praises many may sing
To realize there are bigger and stronger than you can be a humbling thing
There is always one better though great you may be
I recall what a wise old bloke once said to me
That the strongest man on his side of the town one day
May meet one stronger who lives from him not that far away
Yes though big, strong and fast and great as you are
To find one greater you may not have to travel far
That there is always one greater seems only true to say
This is how it is and will always be this way.

Of My First Homeplace

Of my first homeplace from here far north and far away
I only do have fading memories today
Though those i knew then as young in my memory remain
I may not recognize them if i ever meet them again
And they too may also not recognize me
We change as we age is how it seems to be
In Claraghatlea my first home close to Millstreet Town
Perhaps i will never more see a sunrise or sundown
Far south of there time has left me looking gray
No doubt i have seen many a better day
Today i would be a stranger where i was well known
Where many looked on me as one of their own
But we live in the now as the wise one does say
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today.

The Most Liveable Small Town

Voted the World's most liveable small town
Just one of it's many claims to renown
Port Fairy a short walk to the Pacific shore
As a holiday destination for the wealthy in their thoughts to the fore

People flock to there from Countries far and near
To it's World renowned music festival that is held in early March every year
For a small Town in Victoria's south west countryside
Port Fairy is famous and known Worldwide

But as the most affordable small Town to live in it is not or never will be
Housing there is quite expensive as most would agree
No very poor people live in Port fairy it is mostly a rich person's town
It is not or will never be a haven for the financially down

To earthly Utopia it has to be near
Quite a lovely Town Port Fairy at any time of year
The most liveable small Town in the Human World of today
But not the most affordable to live in only true for to say.

Why Ask Me

Why ask me who is or who is not a poet
Or who should be called worthy of literary note
I am not a literary critics or one with literary degrees
And as is said of knowledge it does not grow on trees
On who or who is not a poet i leave it to those who are paid to decide
Since on their knowledge of and understanding of poetry they do take great pride
As literary critics they draw a good pay
On who is or is not a poet i leave it to them for to say
On who is or is not a poet why do you ask me
Since i am not a bloke with a literary degree
There are many forms of poetry as all know too well
From blank verse and lyric and many others to lowly doggerel
Why ask me who or who is not a poet since it is not for me for to say
I leave it to the literary critics to decide since for doing it they draw a good pay.

Where The Cails Waters Flow

In green Shannaknuck where the Cails waters flow
In a rushy field a cock pheasant crow
His cucking hoarse voice to hear an unmistakeable thing
A territorial and mating call in the prime of the Spring

In Spring to woo and mate with a female he calls every day
But mating the only part in fatherhood that he does play
She lays her bluish eggs in a scrape on the ground and raises the chicks on her own
For to help her in any way he is not known

Spring in Duhallow is a green time of year
When the song of the spotted song thrush is so pleasant to hear
And the blackbirds and robins and finches greet the dawn in song
Their beautiful voices to Nature belong

It was the lust of the wander that brought me far south
Of the fields of the badger and the waterways of the brown trout
Of the fields where i grew to love Nature good memories with me remain
And on my flights of fancy i visit them again

In the leafy groves of Duhallow from here far away
The wild birds of Nature are singing today
And in a rushy field a cock pheasant crow
In the green countryside where the Cails waters flow.

The Great Book Of Life

From the book of life we do learn every day
And we learn as we live it is always this way
And we age rather quickly beyond our lives prime
Of  life so much to learn in so little time
Yet we do know so little though we learn as we live
Life to us has so many lessons to give
And the lessons from the book of life are not of the few
Every day of her we do learn something new
The great book of life is never out of date
And any book written by a human being with it never could rate
We learn as we live until the day we do die
To say any different would be to tell a lie
And no greater book than it in truth one can say
From the great book of life we do learn every day

The Heroes To Many

Far beyond their home towns and their home countryside
The heroes to many are known far and wide
But the hero to many is not everyone's hero in truth one can say
Everyone does not love you life works in this way
Many may look up to you as somebody great
As a name they do feel they ought to celebrate
And of singing your praises never seem to tire
But like all other celebrities you are one that everyone does not admire
Though you are admired as a celebrity happens to be true
Not everybody does admire you
The words of a wise one worthy of recall
You may well win many but you will not win them all
The hero to many is not a hero to everyone
Life works in this way when all is said and done.

On Gray Shrike Thrushes

They live on the borders of woods and where trees does abound
And their song to it does make for a beautiful sound
With unders of light gray and wings and back of light brown
Their beautiful whistling their claim to bird renown
Gray shrike thrushes for them is their often used name
Compared to many other species of wild birds they seem rather tame
Since they do not panic when you are in their sight
And they allow you to get close to them before taking to flight
In large cup shaped nest  on standing tree stump the female shrike thrus lay
Two to four white eggs with dots of brownish gray
They eat insects and earth worms and on small skinks often prey
These birds i see often though not every day
Well known for their beautiful whistling flute like song
Once seen and once heard you never again get them wrong.

On The Abuse Of Our Earth Mother

The wealthiest person in his suburb today
For to remove trees for to build factories and houses his workers he pay
By his workers so many trees have been cut down
For to make him the wealthiest man in the town
And for the  making of  every millionaire and billionaire in the loss of some of her beauty our Earth Mother does pay
Does this not seem a sad thing for to have to say
From our Earth Mother us humans take and take and in return nothing does give
Yet she is the one we depend on for to live
Due to human greed so many species of wildlife are becoming rare
More creatures become endangered of extinction as the price for every new millionaire
Most of those who gain most out of our Earth Mother for her does not seem to care
For her and her creatures one thought does not spare
Yet she is the one who does feed us all
As well as every creatures from the great to the small.

The Misogynist

He blames womankind for all of the wrong in his life
Since the mother of his two young daughters is now another man's wife
By court decreed legal appointments his children he only can see
His wife on his opinions of her does not agree

On leaving him she does feel quite justified
Her self confidence by him was all but destroyed
The beatings she received from him she will remember for as long as she will live
Him for his physical abuse of her she finds hard to forgive

He often did slap his young daughters as well
When drunk he made life for his family hell
Yet he does not seem to realize how he treated them so bad
She is now happier with her new husband and their daughters happier with their stepdad

For ill treating his ex wife and his children he does not seem to feel any shame
And for the downfall of men all women he does blame
That he has been the instigator of his own unhappiness he does not seem to realize
Men who justify their mistakes never grow wise

His ex wife he often beat with him did not stay
And without him she and her daughters feel happier today
An angry misogynist with a wounded sense of pride
The lives of his ex wife and his two daughters he all but destroyed.

Money Is The Main Source Of Inequality

The emphasis is strongly on money in the Human World of today
The paper currency that makes people unequal despite what some might say
Those who tell you money is not important to your social status on a falsehood believe
Themselves in their thinking they only deceive
They used to be the main causes of inequality among people skin pigmentation and race
But in the twenty first century as the principal source of inequality money them does replace
It is a sad World to live in when your material wealth defines the person you are
She or he is looked on as a loser who owns a second hand car
We do live in a World where greed is seen as okay
Where the gap between the wealthy and the poor is widening by the day
They are in need of every friend the poor of the town
In a time when few wish to know of the financially down
Money is the main source of inequality in the Human World of today
And into the future this is how it will stay.

Alone In Your Room

Alone in your room have you ever shed tears
For the place far away of your younger years
As you think of your young friends where might they be today
Where the deceased are perhaps some of them lay

And some of them left to try their luck elsewhere
To follow their life's dreams in the big World out there
You may not recognize them if you met them today
That time ages faces only true to say

And some of them in the old hometown did stay
Or from there in distance ageing not far away
The stay at home for them an often used name
Though no two journeys in life are exactly the same

The clock on your life ever keeps ticking fast
Alone in your room have you ever wept for the past?
And the old streets you often did walk up and down
And the people you knew in the far away town.

The Red Deer At Halls Gap

In the parks and paddocks in and around Halls Gap them one often does see
The red deer of Europe there live wild and free
Though not as plentiful there as gray kangaroos red deer are not rare in any way
In the Geriwerd Ranges they are are animals one does see every day
In Halls Gap in their rutting Season the bellowing of the stags one often does hear
And when they sense danger to them it is near
They run to the cover of the woods nearby
Of human kind the red deer of Halls Gap are shy
Stories of red deer and deer hunting i loved reading as a boy
And reading Walter Scott's  A Stag Hunt a poem i enjoy
Whenever i am in Halls Gap red deer in the parks there i see
And anytime i tried to get near to them to the woods they did flee
That they have been shot at seems obviously clear
And the sight of a human instil in them fear.

No Such A Thing As An Untalented Person

No such a thing as an untalented person despite what some might say
Everybody is talented in some sort of a way
But most people for their talents do not know of wealth and fame
What used to be in this today remains the same.

Some grow wealthy out of their talents and are greatly admired
And of singing their praises their fans never grow tired
Whilst some very talented people wealthier have not grown
And live as almost unnoticed and to many are not known

Why this should be one must wonder why?
That luck can play some part in success seems hard to deny
But in life one does need luck even to survive
To live to a good age healthy and happy to be alive

No such a thing as an untalented person but it remains as an ever true
That everyone for their talents does not receive the credit they are due
And as a truism this does remain
But a reason for this is beyond me to explain.

Rob Rowley

A singer a farmer, an inventor and a published poet
And one different to most others and one well worthy of note
An idealist and great conversationalist and one with a charm of his own
Are reasons Rob Rowley beyond Illowa is well liked and well known
Quite a social person one who can laugh at and tell a good joke
Rob Rowley the well liked and likeable bloke
Quite open to knowledge from life he does learn every day
That we learn as we live with Rob it is this way
One of the great characters his side of Warnambool
He can argue his point without losing his cool
Though financially he is not a millionaire
People like him nowadays are becoming rare
Knowledgeable and witty and free of conceit
And as nice a person as one could wish for to meet.

New Holland Honeyeaters

Familiar birds where i live since i see them every day
New holland honeyeaters in feathers of black, gold and gray
Nectar eating small birds and of them one can say
That they are quite aggressive and from their territory try to chase other small honeyeaters away
Their nest an untidy cup of grass in prickly bush or small tree
And at breeding time with aggression they defend their territory
Their nesting sites and borders with aggression they defend
In their breeding Season they trust none as a friend
Birds often seen in country gardens and gardens of the town
Their bean sized eggs are pretty, pinkish with spots of brown
Quite pretty for to look at and  quite feisty for their size
That they are only small birds they do not seem to realize
Their distinctive cahttering calls in your memory will remain
They are birds once seen and once heard you will remember again.

On The Passing Of Johnny Hickey

Such sad news out of Millstreet for to read of today
Johnny Hickey of Shannaknuck from life has passed away
In St Mary's by Cashman's Hill his last remains lay
He lived as an honest and good man of him one can say

The founder member of the Millstreet Vintage Club and a former member of the Millstreet Pipe Band
He played with them in festivals all over Ireland
Far beyond the boundaries of Duhallow Johnny Hickey was well liked and well known
And in Shannaknuck they grieve for the loss of one of their own

Pre-deceased by his son Kevin and Kathleen his wife
He did have his own crosses for to bear in life
But from his dark tunnel he saw the light of hope
And with his adversities he somehow managed to cope

In his exemplary behaviour a role model to Millstreet's young
The praises of Johnny Hickey deserve to be sung
But sadly life's farewell bell for him did ring
He drew his last breath in the prime of the Spring

When Duhallow in her wildflowers looks resplendent and green
And bluebells bloom on the ditches of every bohreen
But in all who knew Johnny Good memories of him will live on
It is just that his gift of life from him has gone

In view of Cashman's Hill in St Mary's he now is at peace
One can only hope that his parting from life for him was not a painful release
That he lived his life as a good person of him cannot be denied
And so sad to learn of the news that he has died.

Everyone Has A Dream

Though for many their dreams never ever come true
We all have our dreams in life for to pursue
The one without a dream i have yet for to meet
And i have met many people on many a street
The poorest people of the poor side of the town
Their dreams give them something to live for when they are feeling down
Those who lose their dreams of better times of them ahead
Feel they have little to live for with all hope in them dead
The greatest dreamers among the poorest are
They dream that in life they will yet go far
They dream of a far better life every day
Poor they may be but poor they do not wish for to stay
Everyone has a dream i firmly believe
Though only a minority their dream does achieve.

The Rose Of Tyrendarra

She is The Rose of Tyrendarra in her life's bloom and prime
Her sort always the subject of song, story and rhyme
Light brown hair to her shoulders and eyes blue as ripened sloes
A beautiful young woman and blooming like a rose
That in the prime of Summer in the warm sunlight
In the flowering garden makes for a splendid sight
The fairest of the roses on her green sunlit mother tree
Just like The Rose of  Tyrendarra the pride of her locality
That she is Tyrendarra's finest few would disagree
The man she is in love with none luckier than he
Wedding bells will ring for them in not too distant day
That some men do have all the luck only true to say
This is how it always has been and it will always be this way
It is rumored they are to be married in May.

Sadie

Old memories at times leaves Sadie feeling sad
Of the happy and tearful days in life she has had
In the twilight of her life her hair silver gray
Time on her existence keeps ticking away

She often thinks of Eddy the love of her life
For three decades of years they were husband and wife
A framed picture of him on the wall at her bedside
A victim of cancer in his fifties he died

Their only offspring Joe a noble young man
In his early twenties he died in Vietnam
He breathed his last where so many young lives were lost
His war medals for bravery came at a huge cost

Many an up and down in life Sadie has known
In her one bedroom apartment she lives on her own
In her mid nineties her prime years long gone
And the clock on her life ever keeps ticking on

By all accounts in her prime years brown haired and attractive and lovely to behold
But time ages beauty and people grow old
A charming person she has aged in a graceful way
When out walking to everyone she meets she smiles and says good day.

Cocky People

Cocky people as such i could never admire
And of being in their company i quickly does tire
So cocky and arrogant and self assured in their way
I would rather not meet them in truth i can say
And sad for to say their sort are not even rare
Of their self importance they make you aware
Narcissistic in their ways and full of self conceit
Their sort i do never feel happy to meet
To meet cocky people you need not walk far
There are plenty of them in the local public bar
Telling each other of how marvellous they are
And of the size of their new home and their brand new car
For attention with each other they always compete
Cocky people i would rather not meet.

On Australian Little Ravens

The Australian little raven or the pale eyed crow
They are birds i see often though of their ways little know
When uttering their long drawn out caws their long throat feathers slighly stick out
That they are Nature's survi9vors there can be little doubt
Their nest of sticks on higher branch of tree
From the ground is never that hard for to see
Three to six bown dotted eggs the female bird lay
From their nesting territory hawks and falcons they mob and chase away
They are clever birds to eat i have seen them dip hard crusts of bread on the shallows water at the verge of a lake
For birds a lot of intelligence something like this does take
In south eastern Australia quite a common sight
They can look attractive in their glossy black featehrs when seen in the sunlight
Not the favourite birds of bird watchers and ornithologists since they can be seen every day
But they are Nature's survivors of them one can say.

Life It Is The Greatest Gift

The wealthy and the famous of the World of today
To many their lives of great interest it seems to be this way
Stories of them in newspapers and magazines and they are often seen on t v
So many impressionable people in the Human World is how it seems to be
Why do you look up to and admire people you only know by sight
Making gods of celebrities does not seem at all right
Like you born to mortality eventually for to die
For to say they are immortal would be to broadcast a lie
That they too were born to mortality is only true to say
Eventually too life's reaper will come reaping their way
The poor and the downtrodden and those of wealth and fame
By the one who claims all lives are treated as the same
Life it is the greatest gift anyone does possess
And than the wealthy and famous in this respect you are no less.

What We Do To Our Earth Mother

What's life about one has to ask since we are born to die
Immortality for the good souls post bodily death may be based on a lie
People for their gene survival help to create life in this overpopulated Human World of today
To compete for jobs and material success does life have to be this way?

In the big town on the wide streets cars and trucks buzzing to and fro
To the Earth that does feed us human inventions have become a foe
Carbon emissions and environmental pollution increasing by the day
For jobs and more jobs it does  seem the natural environment has to pay

All in the name of progress it should not be a source for joy
That our Earth Mother who feeds us we are trying to destroy
But we shall not destroy Mother Earth though to do so we do strive
It is our own selves we will destroy Earth Mother will survive

For jobs, success and material wealth us humans do compete
And all day long cars, trucks and buses buzz up and down the street
Us humans from the horse and cart have come quite a long way
But for this for future generations of human beings there will be some price to pay

To human progress many species of wildlife have been lost
And the achievements of our kind does not come without cost
What we do to our Earth Mother to our own selves we do
And this applies to everyone as well as me and you.

Nature Has Her Beauty

How pleasant the sweet scent of grass freshly mowed for hay
And the hum of nectar gathering bees on a nice Summer's day
And the songs of the birds always a joy to hear
Nature has her beauty at all times of year
In Spring the pink and gray blossoms on every fruit bearing tree
A thing of great beauty for anyone for to see
In late Autumn the once green leaves on the deciduous trees russet brown
A sight of great beauty to the earth drifting down
Even in Winter when the sky is overcast and gray
And the sun behind clouds it is hidden away
And grass is not growing and flowers are rare
Nature has her own beauty to share
Beauty to view and sweet scents and sounds pleasant to hear
Nature has her beauty at all times of year.

For My Lack Of Material Success

For my lack of material success i only have myself to blame
Though i never yearn for wealth and for fame
Just one of the literary never do well
Like every old scribbler who pens doggerel

I must be addicted to doggerel is all i can say
Today for me another rhyming day
The rhymes come to me in notebook i pen them down
But never for money or literary renown

But never any shortage of material for to write rhymes about
In this vast and amazing Land of the south
And new things for me to write rhymes of every day
With rhyming words i am one who loves to play

Here in the home of emu, koala, echidna and gray kangaroo
And white long billed corella and yellow tailed black cockatoo
Of Nature i am learning new things every day
We never stop learning seems true for to say

I never refer to myself  as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of literary note
One might say a literary never do well
Who has written a whole heap of rhyme doggerel.

Yangery On An Overcast April Day

The sky over Yangery sunless and gray
And it looks like that there will not be much sunshine today
In the brown and dry paddocks that look rather exposed and bare
There is not enough of grass for to sustain a hare
The farmers they are feeding their cattle hay
In drought conditions they run at a financial loss only true to say
The countryside of the Moyne Shire is crying out for rain
The farm dams low in water and bone dry every drain
For mid Autumn the weather is changeable and dry
Yet no water to weep in the overcast sky
Yesterday it was sunny and thirty degrees
With even a dry warmth in the coastal breeze
The weather of late has been acting so strange
The reason for this may well be Climate Change.

Dino From Milan

Dino has lived in Australia for most of his life
Ten times a great grand dad Jody his Australian wife
Passed from life of cancer a decade ago
Which left the poor man under a cloud of woe

Though time is the healer as some like to say
He thinks of his deceased soulmate every day
And weekly he places flowers on her grave and pray
In the grave she is in his last remains too will lay

For six decades he has been a migrant man
In nineteen fifty six he left his home City of Milan
His journey south brought him to Australia's shore
His City of birth for to see never more

Though he speaks English well his Italian accent he retain
This part of the old Country in him does remain
Silver gray hair on his balding head Dino from Milan
In his own charming way is a likeable man

An octogenarian in a one bedroom apartment he lives on his own
In his side of the town he is well liked and well known
Though he looks well for his years in truth one can say
That he is one who has known of a far better day.

We Are Co-dependent

We all have our challenges and trials on our journeys in life
And we all do have our moments of inner strife
But it does matter that to those in need of help we have been a friend
Since kindness and compassion does matter at our life's journey's end
Living life should not be for the me, myself and i
Those who believe in this only living a lie
Since the most independent of people in some ways on others depend
Us humans are co-dependent why otherwise pretend
In life we depend on others every day
Since they perform a service for us in some sort of a way
Which we take for granted though in truth one can say
They do help us though for it they may receive pay
We all may have our own dreams in life to pursue
But that we are co-dependent happens for to be true.

They Do Serve Some Purpose

Though not all of Nature's creatures held in high esteem
They do serve some purpose or so it does seem
On some species us humans wish only ill
And given the opportunity them gladly would kill
But that all of Nature's creatures exist for some reason is how it seems to be
Though on such an opinion many would disagree
I do not know of anyone who would invite a rat or a mouse
To live free as a guest in the comfort of their house
And i know of plenty who great satisfaction would take
On killing a poisonious spider or snake
And though by Nature designed for their role to fill
Some creatures we only do wish for to kill
Though with such an opinion many would disagree
This anyway is how it seems to me.

There Are Winners And Losers

There are winners and losers in the World every day
It is all about winning and will always be this way
Of the losers not good enough many do say
And for every winner a lusty hooray
Not surprising then anyone does not like to lose
Since in life as in sport winning most people does choose
Many of those who admire the wealthy people of the town
On every poor person are known to look down
Few wish to know of the children of the lesser gods
They are left on their own for to battle the odds
Though to be poor or with little money should never be a sin
With the odds stacked against you it is hard for to win
But only for the winner the plaudits are loud
And the winner has won the right for to feel proud.

So Little About Nature

So little about Nature of i can claim to know
But my wonder of her only does seem to grow
But every day of her we do learn something new
And her lessons in truth are not in the few
Of her we do learn something new every day
In life we never stop learning it is this way
But the more we learn of Nature the more we come to realize
Of to how ignorant we can be in learning gives rise
Knowledge does grow like a plant does from a tiny seed
But the accumulation of it can be quite humbling indeed
Though in technology and science humanity may have come far
Of some of Nature's ways of how ignorant we are
So little about Nature i can claim for to know
Though my wonder of her only does seem to grow

That Greed Is Addictive

That greed is addictive only true to say
The millionaire dreams of becoming a billionaire one day
The demon greed many in life does pursue
That much always craves more happens to be true

The gap ever growing in the social divide
In every village, town and city Worldwide
The wealthy getting wealthier is how it seems to be
Whilst many so many live in dire poverty

In the Human World survival of the fittest is how it does seem
And the poor do not have any public esteem
In a fair Human World it wouold not be this way
But this is how it is and is likely to stay

For as long as human beings on this Planet Earth live
There will be some only willing to receive and in return nothing give
Greed is an addiction that becomes out of control
And on the higher human feelings does take it's toll

On saying that the greedy of humanity are no longer few
Is not saying anything that is in any way new
And for every new millionaire more in poverty
This is how it is and it always will be.

I Write Rhymes For Enjoyment

I write rhymes for enjoyment but in truth i can tell
That from writing i have never done financially well
I send my rhymes to an online blog by others to be read
If i depended on them to live of hunger i would be long dead
Addicted to rhyming though in truth i can say
That i love writing rhymes and add to my numbers of them every day
And i hope to be rhyming until the day i do die
If i did tell you different this would be a lie
My best years in life in the forever gone
But true to my calling i keep on rhyming on
And to those who advise me to give rhyming away
I tell them i will on my life's final day
Though in writing for me no money or fame
It is something i do enjoy doing just the same.

To Live As A Good Person

To live as a good person is all i wish to be
And help anyone who does need help from me
Each day brings me closer to my life's journey's end
I am at a time of life when i need every friend
I want to go into old age with others in peace and harmony
Of any sort of angst i just wish to be free
I feel no desire for to harm anyone in any way
I have matured in thinking as i age one might say
Life goes by quickly and time ticks on fast
At the stroke of midnight today will be of the past
We learn as we live does seem ever true
And always pay respect to where it is due
We ought to learn from our mistakes of long ago
Be true to your friends and forgive every foe.

On Common Mynas

Introduced from India's big cities such a Delhi and Bombay
In the suburbs of Melbourne birds seen every day
Of yellow legs, yellow bills, dark heads and tails and mostly light brown
Though seen in the countryside mostly birds of the town
To the birds known to dispossess other species they do belong
They are unmistakeable in their rough sort of song
Indian or common mynas one does see in every Melbourne street
The small native species for nesting sites they outcompete
In Australia they have been described as the cane toads of the air
But such a description of  them does not seem at all fair
In Melbourne it does seem they are for to stay
As they are Nature's survivors of them one can say
For their adaptability and survival skills they are well known
Quite hardy birds with ways of their own.

In Green Ballydaly

In thousands of kilometers far north of this southern shore
In the countryside between Millstreet and Rathmore
The nesting songbirds of Nature are singing today
As the rain drizzles down from the low clouds of gray
And the cattle out of wintering sheds from months of eating silage and hay
On the nutritious young grass of April gaining weight by the day
And the fields look resplendent in their April flowers
That have bloomed to life in the sunshine and showers
Ballydaly a beautiful place in the Spring
When the wild birds of Nature does whistle and sing
And the swallows back home from Lands far away
Chirp as they fly in pursuit of flying insect prey
And the voice of the cuckoo so pleasant to hear
In green Ballydaly in the Spring of the year.

Try To Remain As True

To your own self try to remain as true
And always give credit to who it is due
And leave it to others your praises to sing
Though nowadays to many self praise an in thing
Though wealth and material success in life may come to you
It is not what you do for yourself but what for others you do
Is all that does matter at your life's journey's end
To many you are one who has been a good friend
To yourself always as true do remain
Out of others misfortune never try to seek gain
By helping anyone of helping in need
For your future good Karma you are planting the seed
They are not good people though admired in the town
Who on their way to the top have dragged others down..

It Followed Me Here

It followed me here from the bogs far away
And for as long as i live in my mind bound to stay
Above the brown bog on an evening in May
The song of the curlew is with me today
Curloo curloo as the sun is going down
In the quiet of the countryside by Millstreet Town
In the still evening air the soft lowing of a cow
In a rushy field by old River Finnow
And above the bog a voice of the sky
A male snipe above his territory does fly
With his wings and tail making a fast drumming like sound
As darkness does slowly envelop the ground
And of the fields of the badger and waterways of the brown trout
The song of the curlew has followe me south.

Poor Joe

Like the journeyman boxer often down but not counted out
By life poor Joe he has been battered about
A  hit and run driver in his mid twenties condemned him to life in a wheelchair
For some people life can seem very unfair

Forsaken by the woman who was to be his wife
With a crippled man she would not spend her life
Now in his mid forties living on his own
Of the down sides of life he is one who has known

On his electrical wheelchair on the flags of the street
He greets with a smile everyone he does meet
Not bitter with life in any sort of a way
He is an inspiring fellow of him one can say

Due to a hit and run driver he has been through suffering and pain
But Joe of his lot in life never complain
To have to live life as he does none would wish to or desire
But in him there is a whole pile to admire.

More Worthy To Admire

You yearn for material wealth and fame
That yours will become a widely known name
But you should only wish to live as a kinder woman or man
And as a person be good as you possibly can
Be for this is all that does matter at your life's journeys end
That to many you have been a very good friend
Some of the wealthy and very famous of the town
On their way to material success have dragged others down
Materially big but in other ways small
In some ways they are very poor after all
You can live your life as quite successful indeed
If you are willing to help those of helping in need
To be wealthy and famous many to do aspire
But the kind and compassionate  more worthy to admire.

On Seeing A Female Wedgetailed Eagle

Above the brown paddock she soar as she fly
The mighty brown monarch of the southern sky
A female wedgetailed eagle Australia's largest bird of prey
You only see her soaring on a calm and clear day
The female wedgetailed eagle than the male far larger among birders to discussion gives rise
But Nature has her reasons for everything one has to realize
On huge flat nest of sticks on fork of hight tree
The female lays large white reddish freckled eggs of one to three
The young fast to grow in the nest have a long stay
The bigger the bird the slower to fly this is Nature's way
On days of high winds or of a strong breeze
Wedgetailed eagles usually stay on the trees
This morning i see a female wedgetailed eagle soar and fly
High above the brown paddock in the calm and blue sky.

The Sight And Song Of A Greenfinch

Old memories die hard as the wise one does say
The sight and song of a greenfinch carries me far away
To groves and to fields i have not seen for years
For what used to be i have shed my last tears

Mostly olive green with a distinctive song
Once seen and once heard them you never again can get wrong
Often seen in town parks and in the countryside
From predators in bushes and trees they do hide

In cup shaped nest of twigs and grasses the duller looking female lay
Five or six pale eggs with brown spots through the gray
As a father and partner to help to raise his family the male does his very best
And when his partner is hatching he feeds her in the nest

The male greenfinch distinctive in his courtship display
He sings as he slowly flies in an undulating way
Introduced in Australia seed eating birds of ways of their own
To bird lovers greenfinches are very well known

Birds i see often though not every day
The sight and song of a greenfinch takes me far away
To the fields and groves of the long gone past
And only the memories of what was does last.

Some Tell You That You Receive From Life

Some tell you that you receive from life what is only your due
But this in itself it is not always true
The small creature of the wilderness with the weak voice
Was born to be preyed on in this it does not have a choice
With many human beings it is exactly the same
They were born into life to never know of wealth and fame
The vast majority of the homeless and hungry of the poor side of the town
Will die as they live as strangers to renown
The voices of the poor the government never heed
They infer that the Country of them is not in need
Why there are disadvantaged people in every Land
Should not be a hard thing for to understand
The small creature of the wilderness with the weak voice
Was born to be preyed on in this it does not have a choice.

Humility Sadly

At social and community gatherings where people do meet
For attention with each other some do compete
The look at me syndrome is alive and well
Some people need to be noticed their egos to swell
Self promotion is the in thing in the Human World of today
The humble of mind are now rare sad to say
Though humility never has been an in thing
In the twenty first century so many only willing their own praises to sing
But these people seemingly fail to realize
That true talent like cream to the top only rise
Though in their words of self praise for themselves they try to make a name
They need the praises of many to reach the pinnacle of fame
In a time when many their own selves love to celebrate
Humility sadly does seem out of date.

I Am Far From Perfect

I am far from perfect to say otherwise on my behalf would be deceit
But the perfect person i have yet to meet
To be flawed is to be human as the wise one does say
This is how it is and will always be this way
The near to perfect people only of the few
And this is not saying anything that is new
But to live as a good person is an honourable thing
And the praises of such people i feel happy to sing
They are not a plentiful breed in the twenty first century
The people of compassion and empathy
They are special people the honest and generous and kind
And to the helping of others are always willingly inclined
I do live as flawed to say otherwise on my behalf would be deceit
But a perfect person i have yet to meet.

A Final Day

For every songbird there is a final Spring
A last chance to breed and a last song to sing
Us humans too will have our last night and day
And life will go on and time will tick away
From the tiny earth worm to the human billionaire
The Reaper of lives any life does not spare
Like all forms of life humans too born to die
Is the theory of immortality based on a lie?
Many believe in a life after bodily death
That only the flesh is left to decay when we draw our last breath
That every good soul has wings for to fly
To the Paradise of God somewhere beyond the sky
On life and death on what you believe in is up to you anyway
But for all living things there is a final day.

The Opinionated

They expect me to hang on to every word to me they do say
The opinionated people i meet with every day
And if with their opinions i choose to disagree
They dismiss me as misinformed and as ignorant as can be
Their opinions on various subjects to them a very important thing
And of the praises of their depth of knowledge they do love to sing
They truly believe the truth to them does only belong
And in their righteous ways they feel they are never wrong
So full of themselves and their own self conceit
The people that i would prefer not to meet
But when they waylay me to them i do say
For to keep an appointment i am on my way
They have their opinions and this suits me fine
Though theirs happen to be very different to mine.

A World Without Love

A World without love would be a sad World indeed
Love is something that humanity of more of is in need
Since without love there would be mistrust and wars Worldwide
And any hope of peace by hatred would be destroyed
Those with love in them have a great gift why otherwise pretend
Those who cannot love are people who do not have a friend
Love is a gift that is born in the mind
If you do not have it you cannot be compassionate and kind
Of more people with love in them the Human World is in need of today
To harmony and peace they always lead the way
Those without love for others cannot feel sympathy
Without love it would be a Human World without compassion and empathy
Love is something that humanity could not exist without
And a World without love is even sad to think about.

I Have Been Told By Some

I have been told by some my rhymes are not good enough
For the twenty first century a bit slip shod and rough
Perhaps their way of saying i should give rhyming away
Though to their advice any heed i never does pay
It is something i enjoy doing i write rhymes every day
Just one of many with words who does like to play
The rhymes do come to me i just write them down
But never for money or hope of literary renown
As a younger man i hoped i might become a poet
But i never became one of literary note
I used to love reading rhymes as a young boy
And writing them today i thoroughly enjoy
And despite what some of my rhyming efforts have to say
I hope to be rhyming on my life's last day.

Old Knocknagree's Pride

She was a rare beauty when young and carefree
The finest in her time in old Knocknagree
When i was a boy she was in her life's prime
And this is going back many decades in time

Wavy brown hair to her shoulders lovely to behold
The memory of such beauty never grows old
And eyes quite as ripe November sloes
In the Spring of her life she bloomed like a rose

She was a rare beauty old Knocknagree's Pride
No finer in Duhallow's and Sliabh Luachra's green countryside
But the lust of the wander was in her young mind
Not one who was born to be stay at home kind

She left Knocknagree on a morning in May
And went off to live in the U S of A
But time does not wait as the wise one does say
She would be in her eighties if living today

I see her a few times and never again
But memories of her today with me remain
When i was a boy she was near her life's prime
And this is going back many decades in time.

From Thunder Point

Saltwater and white waves as far as the eyes can see
From the cliffs of Thunder Point overlooking the Pacific sea
A scene that has not changed over centuries of time
That has inspired the artists and the writers of stories and rhyme

To sketch and to write of this wild, rugged yet beautiful place
Where of the progress of humanity there is not any trace
Thousands of centuries ago Warrnambool's first people such a scene did behold
In the place they were born and raised in they grew wise and old

They gazed on the scene that i gaze on today
A link to the past not changed in any way
They hunted and fished and had their corroborees until the foreigners came
And their lives would never again be the same

From the cliffs at Thunder Point time seems to stand still
Overlooking a scene that has not changed for centuries and suppose never will
The rumbling huge white waves to the cliff face does roll
The Pacific today does have a restless soul

I gaze on a scene that has not changed in time
That inspire the artists and writers of story and rhyme
A scene that is thousands of centuries old
That Australia's first people used to behold.

People Without Compassion And Empathy

Those without compassion and empathy are of clouded mind
And their sort it does seem not an endangered kind
For the suffering of others they feel no sympathy
They are lacking in any sense of emapathy
They would never think of helping the financially down
The poor doing it tough on the poor side of town
They live for self only a self centered thing
The praises of such people i never could sing
People of compassion and empathy i can only admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire
Those in need of helping they never ignore
Of their sort the World is in need of many more
Those without compassion and empathy have lost some of their humanity
And they are not that rare in this twenty first century.

Of Nature And Some Of Her Ways

Of Nature and some of her ways i first got to know
Far north in the fields where the Cails waters flow
To join with Finnow and the Blackwater meet
By the bridge at Drishane near the Town of Millstreet

Old memories remain as a source of joy
Of the voice of the corncrake where i lived as a boy
But the earlier cutting of the grass their nests and eggs destroyed
And in the fields of my young years their distinct voices died

Always for human progress Nature has to pay
This is how it is and suppose will always be this way
Due to earlier grass cutting for silage and hay
No corncrakes are heard in Summer in Duhallow today

The more i learn of Nature's ways the more i realize
That i know little of her this not a surprise
And not all of the knowledge we acquire in memory we retain
Yet we do learn as we live as a truism remain

Nowadays in the fields of Duhallow in the Spring and Summer of the year
The voices of the corncrakes a young boy will not hear
Their distinctive and rasping calls to Duhallow forever lost
Human progress to Nature always comes at a cost.

Earth Mother And Nature

Of Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning of her in truth one can say
Wherever we turn to look her beauty we see
It is all around you and it is all around me
No other possess her amazing magical powers
From tiny seeds she creates beautiful flowers
Than her Earth Mother we do not have a greater friend
On our very survival on her we depend
For to survive as she grows the food for to keep us alive
Earth Mother and Nature are one of the same
No greater force than her that one can name
We take and take from her and in return to her little give
Though we are dependant on her for to live

The Man Who Stood For Something Great

The man who stood for something great died in the foulest way
But his legend in history is living today
For what he stood for with his life he did pay
At the hands of a racist known as James Earl Ray

Martin Luther King spoke out for the racially villified and the oppressed
In his speeches the needs of the downtrodden he readily addressed
Against racism he never feared for to speak out
That he lived as a great person does go without doubt

The honourable man who climbed the moral summit of fame
In his anti racism speeches his became a great name
One of the all time great people of the U S of A
To honour him they have the Martin Luther King day

As a true hero under gunfire he did fall
The man who spoke out for a fair go for all
For a fairer World for all to live in he lived and he died
True greatness of him and what he stood for cannot be denied

It is people like him we ought to celebrate
The great man who gave his life for something great
A man to look up to and for to admire
Who for the racially oppressed died under gunfire.

We Reap What We Sow

What goes around comes around seems true to say
The karma we sow does become ours one day
Those willing to give can expect to receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe
Some of the materially successful people of the town
Who on their way to success have dragged others down
May not realize it but in some form or way
To Karma for their sins they will eventually pay
Those who do help people of helping in need
For their future good Karma are planting the seed
This is how it is and it always will be
Though many with such thinking may not agree
And though little of the ways of the World i do know
I do believe that we reap what we do sow.

To The Days Of The Irish Travellers

Though tinged with some sadness old memories can be a source for joy
When i think of the Ireland i knew as a boy
The decades of time the memory does span
To the days of the Irish travellers of the romany horse drawn caravan

Change happened for them and it came to them fast
But then few things in life ever does seem to last
More cars and trucks and buses on the roads to their mode of travel brought an end
That time with it brings changes why otherwise pretend

Though what used to be in the forever gone
Their romany vans and brown and white pinto horses in memory lives on
The Ireland of the nineteen fifties is now a fading memory
Of a long gone time and of the what used to be

Changes keep on happening with the passing of time
The Irish travellers were no longer travelling in their horse drawn vans long before i reached my prime
And going back the years this now seems long ago
And time that rusts steel and iron has become my foe.

Like Many Others

Like many others i am one who has known of inner strife
But i am one who has been quite lucky in life
Though not known to the manager of any bank
Just one who answers to Francy or Francis or Frank
Addicted to rhyming over decades of time
I would be long dead of hunger by now if i had to depend on rhyme
For to buy food for to eat for to keep me alive
But like most through the hard times i too learned to survive
Most people have their addictions one has to suppose
And life gives us friends and few die without foes
And since for it i never receive any pay
Some tell me i ought to give rhyming away
But i have been rhyming for years and as a rhymer i hope to stay
And i hope to be doing it until life's final day.

Old Travelling Shearer

He has done his travelling and the seeds of his genes he has sown
Yet his children to him strangers and to them he is not known
In an old people's home in his early nineties his travelling days are in the past
All he has now are his memories and time on him is ticking fast

He walks with a cane's assistance time it has become his foe
He is not the man that he was way back in the long ago
Worn out from years of living he has had a better day
Time is everybody's master youth with anyone does not stay

All he has left are the memories of his sweaty days in many a hot shearing shed
Most of the shearers he shore with by now would be of the dead
So many sheds he has shorn in one who earned his every pay
In the life of the travelling shearer many a hard working day

Many the hours he spent drinking in many a country town
Many the women he slept with but with none he could settle down
Other shearers told him he was a father he may now be a great grand dad
He looks so fragile and time worn far better days he has had

Despite his years of travel and hard work and hard drinking in his nineties he is alive
Few like him to such an age manage to survive
And though his better days are in the long gone
With his battle of survival in life he goes on.

April In Millstreet

Back there in the fields of the silver backed crow
Where Finnow the white river to the Blackwater flow
Deciduous trees sprouting new leaves and fruit bearing plants in their blooms of pink to gray
And the wildborn birds of song are singing today
Though the rain drizzling down and the sun not to be seen
The old fields are looking so lush and so green
And quite resplendent in their April flowers
That have been brought to life in the recent Spring showers
Cattle out of wintering farmyard sheds from months of living on silage and hay
On the nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day
And Nature's bluebells beautiful to be seen
Blooming on the ditches of every bohreen
And in the gray fogs of rain Clara is half cloaked today
In April in Millstreet from here far away

On Such A Nice Day

A beautiful day of only a slight breeze
And birds chirping and singing on the sunlit trees
In the blue sky woolly looking cumulus of gray
For April the first quite a beautiful day
The flute like songs so melodious and clear
Of the magpies who sing every day of the year
And the laughter of children in the park as they play
Youth does have it's joys as the wise one does say
Nature at her finest is all around me
Wherever i turn to look her beauty i do see
The park and the trees looking green and the songs of the birds pleasant to hear
Earthly Utopia to this place does have to be near
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
So good to be living on such a nice day.

On Hearing A Gray Butcherbird

How nice for to hear on a sunny April day
In the eucalypt woodland just across the way
The bubbling song of a bird in a territorial display
With sharp hook on bill and in feathers of dark brown and gray

Not hard to recognize by sight or by song
Once seen and once heard you never again get them wrong
In gardens they seem to become relatively tame
Gray butcherbirds for them is their common name

But in their breeding Season they do not trust anyone as a friend
And they become aggressive with young to defend
Known to attack dogs , cats and people in their territory passing by
And they even attack aerial predators in the sky

With their hooked bills they kill and dismember small animal and small bird prey
And impale on tree spike to eat at mealtime every day
Hence the name of butcherbird as they are known
Territorial birds who have ways of their own

Their bubbling flute like songs always a joy to hear
They can be heard sing at anytime of year
Once seen and once heard you will know them again
Their beautiful song in the memory remain.

Addicted To Narcotics

Addicted to narcotics and financially down
The young man who hails from a western town
Three of the last four years of his life he has spent in jail
It does seem in life he is one destined to fail
Six years ago he came south with hopes of success in his head
But any such dreams in him nowadays seem dead
For to buy narcotics he turned to crime
And he is behind prison bars at the present time
On his behalf in his life a huge change for the better will take
Since the habit of narcotic addiction can be hard to break
In his twenty fifth year and his future looking grim
So many young people in the World nowadays like him
Depressed and in jail and financially down
He will not be going back to his western hometown.

Of Miracles At Tubrid

Though of any miracles in my life i do not have of to tell
I often drank of the clear spring water of holy Tubrid Well
But never to do the rounds there for to pray
To Mary Christ's mother in the month of May
Though of miracles at Tubrid stories i did hear
It was the spring water of the well so clean and so clear
That lured me to Tubrid for the pure H20
For the non religious like me a healthy thing to do
Though the taste of it's clean clear water in my memory remain
I may never visit the Claraghatlea Well again
In that spot of piligrimage in view of Clara Hill
And only in memory time for me stands still
In my younger years i heard many stories of miracles at Tubrid in May
Though of this i have not witnessed evidence in truth i can say.

Old Murray

Home to echidna, roo, wallaby and dark pale eyed crow
The flat brown, bare and dry country where old Murray crawls silent, deep and slow
On through Tailem Bend as it nears the Pacifuc shore
Where it has flowed forever and will forever more

A waterway that has inspired song, story and rhyme
Old Murray was very old in the Dreamtime
It has flowed through millions of centuries through long Seasons of drought
Through thousands of kilometers of south eastern Australia to the sea in the south

For centuries before the first Europeans came
Australia's first people for their Country's longest river had a different name
But Murray the name it is known by today
Is the name it does seem that is with it to stay

Australia's longest river it's journey comes to an end
At the Pacific ocean close to Tailem Bend
It crawls to saltwater deep, silent and slow
Through the flat, dry and brown country where the saltbush does grow.

Most Of Us Humans Are Tribal

Most of us humans are tribal why otherwise pretend
And only one who is like minded you wish for as a friend
Though some of those who in thinking are different known to find common ground
Among the like minded strong bonds of friendship are found
Religion, culture and politics among the main cause of the social divide
As well as money and patriotism and nationalistic pride
To division and war such things to lead are known
Often in difference the seeds of mistrust are sown
That most humans are tribal seems true for to say
This is how we always were and we will always be this way
There are tribes in every village, town and city and there are even tribes in sport
You align yourself with the supporters of the sporting team you support
That most of us humans are tribal would you not agree
This is how we are and we always will be.

Tomorrow Will Dawn

Tomorrow will dawn and yesterday has gone
And life in the World as usual goes on
At the stroke of midnight the past will be today
That time does not wait only true for to say
It is a humbling thought just for to realize
That for everyone a last sunset and sunrise
Even to the young every dawn to their end brings them more near
But it is only the fear of death that we does fear
Who knows what the future holds for me or you
Make the most of the now is the best you can do
Though the past lives in memory in reality it is dead
And who is to say of what of us lay ahead
We can only live in the now when all is said and done
And tomorrow will dawn but not for everyone.

On Cardinal George Pell

Though not lacking in public support
He will have his day in court
And though i can only wish him well
It is human law will judge Cardinal Pell

Of accusations of sexual abuse many decades ago
Perhaps going back half of a century or so
If committed to stand trial a jury on his guilt or innocence will decide
This case is in the news Worldwide

Even if exonerated by the courts the doubt on him will remain
For the ageing George Pell life will never be the same again
In the Autumn of his life span
Recent photos of him show of a broken man

A friend and confidante of Francis the Pope
With the pressure of the serious accusations against him he has to cope
Whether he is guilty or innocent will not be for me to say
It is only the Australian justice system will decide either way

His legal team have the huge reputation to defend
Of the man who has made enemies and has many a friend
One to many Worldwide a familiar face
May well live his last years in disgrace.

In Maldon On Good Friday

In the blue sky woolly looking cumulus of gray
The sun it is shining on Maldon today
Few shops open for business on Good Friday in the Mt Alexander Town
On the main street few cars or trucks drive up and down
In late Autumn in Maldon a nice time of year
Old March is at an end and April is near
Though close enough to the prime of the southern calendar Fall
On the deciduous trees as of yet few brown leaves at all
At most times in Maldon the weather is fine
Mt Tarrengower beautiful and peaceful in the afternoon sunshine
The day rather calm with only a slight breeze
With a forecast high of a pleasant twenty degrees
In the Town of Maldon people to be seen
Though many shops and businesses closed on Good Friday twenty eighteen.

The Dog Woman

Known as The Dog Woman she aged in the graceful way
She never used hair dye to hide her wrinkles or hair dye to cloak her gray
Her husband long deceased their only offspring their daughter a grandmother with her husband in the U S of A
One she had not seen for many a day
A beautiful person free of conceit or guile
So kind in her ways with a beautiful smile
One always willing to help those of helping in need
Everyday of good Karma she planted the seed
A woman who loved dogs she volunteered in the R S P C A
And helped to care for the homeless dogs every day
In her mid eighties of late not feeling well
Last week it did toll for her the farewell bell
Her parting from life quite a painless release
The lovely Dog Woman may she rest in peace.

I Thank Them For Their Advice

To those who advise me to give rhyming away
Since for doing it i never receive any pay
I thank them for their advice and to them then say
I hope to be rhyming on my life's final day
I never write rhymes for money and fame
And that mine should be a well known literary name
In the twilight of my life at eleven years and three score
I write rhymes for enjoyment and little else more
I never refer to myself as a poet
I leave such a title to those who feel worthy of literary note
To my higher self i can only try to be true
I leave it to others to praise me if they believe praise is my due
Since i wrote my first rhymes many Seasons to time have gone
But true to my calling i keep on rhyming on.

I Have Lived Through Many A Season

I have lived through many a Season since i left west of Millstreet Town
On a cold evening in early December with the wintery rain drizzling down
Way back in the mid nineteen eighties i do feel much older today
Time leaves everyone looking older and this is only true to say

Like many more i left in search of adventure my future was to be elsewhere
There is a World beyond Duhallow known as the bigger World out there
I have not been back to Duhallow though memories remain evergreen
And i retain mental images of the beauty i have seen

When people ask me where i come from i tell them Claraghatlea near the Town of Millstreet
A green old Townland in Duhallow of the fields where the waterways meet
In fancy i can see old Clara half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And see the eggs the female frogs had laid like clusters of jelly in the water logged drain

I have lived through many a Season since my journey in life took me far south
Of the fields of the brown hare and the badger and the waterways of the brown trout
And time that rusts steel and iron has left me looking balder and gray
And the past in me remains a memory of a place in distance from here far away.

On The Neglect Of George Crabbe

He wrote of life's reality in the England of his time
Of the plight of the poor in his marvellous rhyme
But in the neglect of the poems of George Crabbe it might seem fair to say
Is that he wrote of the poor in this some part neglect of him and of his poems would play

In his poems had he glorified royalty, the wealthy gentry and the self conceited squire
His poems to fans of the successful would be more appealing and as a deceased poet many his work would admire
But the plight of the poor not interesting to the majority of people Worldwide
And the main reason George Crabbe's poems are neglected is that he was on the down and out side

George Crabbe is one of the near forgotten though few poets as great as he was true to say
He was the poet of very poor people the World is in need of more poets like him today
But the voices for the homeless fall on deaf ears today as when he lived many decades ago
That there are many poor people today as there were in George Crabbe's time happens to be so

George Crabbe the great poet of poor people his poems are neglected today
Though he was a marvellous wordsmith with words he surely had a way
It is only of the wealthy and famous that most people wish to hear of or to read about
And only the kind and compassionate left to speak for the down and out.

You Must Be Part Of Some Grouping

Though with what i have to say on it most would disagree
Community organizations and groups not all they are made out to be
In most organizations and groups power comes into play
To be all lovey dovey is not the human way
One well known human flaw is of course self conceit
And in every group some for attention and power do compete
In this the age of self promotion narcissism in many does seem an in thing
Their own praises they only feel happy to sing
To brag of their achievements with them seems okay
Though self praise is no praise as the wise one does say
In community groups and organizations attention seeking and power are linked this will never change
Yet those without a tribe are looked on as strange
Few wish to know of the shy poor woman or man who live on their own
You must be part of some grouping for to become well known.

Purple Swamphen

You see them near country lakes and on  wetlands and near lakes in parks of the town
When they fly it is with effort with long legs dangling down
They are known as purple swamphen quite common in their range
Though that they are not favourite birds of many to say the least seems a bit strange
As they are pretty birds to look at and on wetlands often seen
With red bills and reddish shield on face and glossy feathers of a purply sheen
Much larger and with longer legs than a moorhen and wide and splayed feet
They are birds i do see often by the lake in the park off of the street
In flat nest of grass and reeds in scrub by water the female birds does lay
Three to five buff eggs with tiny brown spots from view well hidden away
Their dark young with long legs look ungainly close to water stay
But they seem to gain in beauty as they age every day
Familiar in their loud screams close to lakes they reside
When threatened they run to lakeside cover and in the tall reeds hide.

Until Our Last Living Day

We never stop learning until our last living day
This is how life is and will always be this way
And the more we do learn the more we realize
That of life we know little this not a surprise
Those who think they know everything there is to know are lucky indeed
Since of any more knowledge they are not in need
But those open to learning realize lessons are not few
And in their every day they do learn something new
Great human minds historians may recall
But life is the greatest teacher of all
Your learning from life does not end with your uni degree
For we learn as we live is how it seems to be
We never stop learning until our last living day
Though some may not agree with what on this i do say.

It All Ends Up In Nothing

It all ends up in nothing even for those of wealth and fame
For the one who wields the scythe of death treats all lives as the same
Though you are a billionaire like everyone for you a final day
You cannot buy time from the one on how long you live has the say
Enjoy your fame and money as time ticks on and on
At the stroke of midnight today it will have gone
And tomorrow it will surely dawn but not for everyone
For the longest lived human life is terminal when all is said and done
Are you one who helps the homeless of the poor side of the town
Or do you say it is their own fault that financially they are down
Your wealth does not tell us of the sort of person you are though your compassion and generosity can
This applies to every woman as well as to every man
The one who wields the scyhthe of death on our lives has the final say
It is only earthworms do live in the graves where human bodies lay.

The Eastern Yellow Robins

Gray backs, heads, tails and yellow unders in north east to south east Australia where trees do abound
They spend some of their time searching for insects on the graound
They have a quiet tweeping monotonous song
To the Australian flycatcher family they do belong
Sometimes they cling to trunk or perch on low branch of tree
In this way the movement of their tiny prey they do see
A skink, insect or worm to them a tasty treat
In Nature some life forms exist for others to eat
In cup shaped nest of bark on a low branch from aerial predators hidden away
Two to three green pink speckled eggs the female bird lay
Of humankind they do not seem at all shy
Eastern yellow robins the name that they are known by
Of the Australian flycatchers among the better known
They are quite distinctive with ways of their own.

The Former President

He lived as a great man many would agree
Though some in him flaws they did claim to see
Millions on t v watched his funeral today
And at peace forever the former President lay
The farewell bell for him has finally rung
And by his supporters his praises are sung
But most of those who opposed him by his army were gunned down
And buried in mass graves in every village and city and town
But to speak ill of him none in public dare to speak out
That fear is a weapon of silence there can be no doubt
Since the President today is his eldest son
Handpicked by his father as the chosen one
And he like his father does order to kill
Anyone who does threaten him or on him wishes ill.

No Different To Most Other Migrants

No different to most other migrants i have had my good and bad years
For the Town in view of Clara i have shed my last nostalgic tears
But like every other migrant memories with me does remain
Of a past that has gone forever and will never be again

Today i would be a stranger to many in Claraghatlea and Millstreet Town
Where i lived for many Seasons when my hair was a dark brown
Children of those i went to school with beyond mid life today
Time that rusts steel and iron turns the balding head to gray

Far south of Millstreet in Duhallow where as a boy i went to school
In the Moyne Shire of Victoria near the City of Warrnambool
On still evenings i can hear the waves of the Pacific rolling beachward in full tide
I am learning about Nature in the coastal countryside

Perhaps the one boy of my classroom who became addicted to penning rhyme
I have been an amateur rhymer over many years of time
Just one more addictive rhymer who does pen rhymes every day
Just for the love of doing it without the reward of pay

Every other migrant like me do have memories of their past
Of the years when they were younger only memories with them last
Sometimes on my flights of fancy i am back near Millstreet Town
Where i lived when i was younger and my hair was a dark brown.

To Some Their Idea Of A Fair Go

To some their idea of a fair go to some only does apply
But the truth in the meaning of a fair go they only deny
Since a fair go to some is not a fair go to all
Some limit their thinking on fairness to small
A fair go as such should apply to everyone
And not to the billionaires and their daughter and son
Or not to royalty or the celebrities of every city and town
To be looked up to and admired on their perch of renown
So many people in life any form of success struggle to win
Due to the family they are born into or the colour of their skin
If everybody who speaks of a fair go to the true meaning in their words were true
So many more people would receive what is their rightful due
And this is a fair go which they never receive
Some people in their very words do deceive.

You Too Will Die

The present in the seeds of the past was sown
And the future as is said remains an unknown
And tomorrow will dawn as it did today
But not for everyone in truth one can say
With your talents your millions of fans you well may impress
But your life is the greatest gift you do possess
Which makes you no greater than the strangers to renown
The poorest of the poor on the poor side of the town
It is hard to stay humble when you know of wealth and fame
When to millions of people your's is a known name
Immortality for human beings is based on a lie
For like all air breathing creatures we are born to die
Live every day as if it is your last and one day you will be right
For you too will die as sure as day follows night.

In The Cemetery Of St Mary's

Many hearts that beat with kindness forever are still
Under the earth in view of Cashman's Hill
Some of them died youg and some lived to die old
And like many their life stories in book form will never be told

In the Cemetery of St Mary's from here far away
Many of the deceased of Millstreet Town and Parish lay
And only the memories with me now remain
Of people i knew and will not meet again

Some of them the mentors of my younger years
By friends and families farewelled in tears
Though in my memory they are living yet
Them i remember and could not forget

In life they never craved wealth and renown
And in their last resting spot by Millstreet Town
At peace with the World forever they lay
Left to the living for their souls for to pray

Some times in the Duhallow Town of Millstreet
When out walking them i happen to meet
We talk of the changes and of how time goes so fast
Until i awake from a dream of the past

In death from life seldom a painless release
In St Mary's Cemetery near Millstreet Town they are at peace
The hearts that in life beat with kindness are forever still
Under the earth in view of Cashman's Hill.

Few Do Go Through Life

Few do go through life without making some foes
This goes with being human one does have to suppose
The friend of your enemy is not a friend to you
Few manage to remain as friends with both of the quarelling two
The friend of your enemy can hardly be your friend
To say different would be for to pretend
Those not for me are against me old words of the wise
That human friendships are not unconditional one must come to realize
Though the friends of your enemy may be considsered honourable and just
They cannot be your friends since them you cannot trust
Human friendships can be fickle and often easy to break
By becoming a friend of your enemy an enemy of your friend you do make
That in the enemy of your enemy a friend you do gain
Of human relationships a fact that does remain.

They Are Poor Of Mind

Though money speaks every language in truth one can say
And never more so than in the Human World of today
The way you treat others says more about you
Than your money or achievements could ever hope to do
They are poor of mind some of the wealthy of the town
Who on their climb to financial success have dragged others down
As people as such them one cannot compare
With the honest and kind who nowadays do seem rare
Of compassionate and generous people of a few of i do know
And my admiration for them and their sort only does seem to grow
Yet they are treated as the voices in the wilderness in the Human World of today
For them there is never a loud hip hooray
Sadly we live in an age where celebrities and the very wealthy only does count
And where generosity and kindness to little does amount.

Far South Of The Fields

Far south of the fields of the silver backed crow
Of Nature's ways so much to learn and to know
Where brown wedge tailed eagle monarch of the southern sky
Eyes on the brown and dry paddocks searching for prey as she fly
Here in the home of echidna, koala, emu and gray kangaroo
And the long billed corella and the yellow tailed black cockatoo
And pee wee and magpie and black pale eyed crow
Where the dark Merri waters towards the Pacific crawls silent and slow
Of Nature the more i do learn the more i realize
That of her i know little this not a surprise
But we never stop learning as the wise one does say
And always something new for to learn every day
Of the fields of the badger and waterways of the brown trout
I am learning of Nature in this Land of the south.

Nature's Survivors

To rid the World of them humans their best does try
Rabbits secret of survival is they quickly breed and multiply
They prove costly to farmers and gardeners and leave many in tears
And have survived myxomatosis, clavixal virus, shooting, trapping and poisoning over decades of years
Despite humans best effort to make them extinct wild rabbits survive
Due to their willingness to breed and their strong sexual drive
Many will tell you that in the natural environment rabbits no positive part does play
Yet they are Nature's survivors of them one can say
For the damage they do to their crops farmers and gardeners them cannot forgive
But the last human beings rabbits may well outlive
In places where their numbers are out of control
On the financial profits of farmers and gardeners rabbits take toll
They are creatures i know of and see every day
Wild rabbits it does seem are with us to stay.

On Common Wombats

In places where they once were plentiful nowadays they are extinct or few
That common wombats are on the decrease is not saying anything that is new
Of a family of the World's largest burrowing marsupials in Australia only to be found
With their powerful paws they excavate big tunnels and burrow their way underground

One reason many farmers look on them as a pest
And with their burrowing ways are far from impressed
For to say wombats are not endangered would be to pretend
For their survival they are in need of every friend

Due to the increase on motorized traffic on every highway
More wombats are losing their lives every day
On the decrease in wombat numbers human activity a huge part does play
That wombats need friends for their species survival only true for to say

Australia's largest marsupial of the burrowing kind
The female with a pouch with a rear entrance to keep her young clean when she is digging by nature designed
Animals that are seldom seen out and about in daylight
They eat grass and roots in the paddocks at night.

Others Do Have To Lose

Though losing is something anyone would not choose
For one for to win others do have to lose
This is how it is and how it will always be
The ultimate joy is always in victory
It is only the winners who does celebrate
The losers are never referred to as great
Suceess and failure in the Human World treated as the same
As the winners and losers of the football game
As for success with each other of some form they compete
For most people in life every day some new challenge to meet
Out of the winners as always so much is made
For the losers there never is an accolade
And though losing is something anyone would not choose
For every winner others do have to lose.

Of Such Things Of Beauty

Often in my dreams i hear and i see
A male robin singing on a silver birch tree
When Spring has arrived with her wildflowers and green
And the bluebells are in bloom on the ditch of every bohreen
Far north of where i now am where i lived as a boy
Learning of Nature's ways a thing i did enjoy
And though the passing of time has left me looking wrinkled and gray
I still enjoy learning of Nature today
Yet of Nature so little i know i have come to realize
And this in itself should not be a surprise
Since Nature's secrets are many and her wonders not few
And this is not saying anything that is new
The dappled trout basking in the pool of a sunlit stream
Of such things of beauty sometimes i do dream.

The President Who Believes His Own Lies

When the U S voters went for political change they elected as their leader Donald J Trump
And any semblance of morality, honesty or truthfulness from politics they choose to dump
Trump won through the electoral college but it must be taken note
That his political rival Hillary Clinton won the popular vote

A President who for his disrespect for women has become widely known
His poor values on morality he does seem proud to own
His dishonesty he does not even attempt to disguise
The President who is known to believe his own lies

As a Nation well worth admiring the U S was to the fore
But sadly what used to be is not anymore
In November twenty sixteen their voters this honor choose to give away
On electing Donald J Trump as the President of the U S of A

Not suprising he ever became President many struggle to understand
Of the U S of A such a very great Land
But sadly the values that made them great their voters gave away
In November twenty sixteen on Presidental Election Day.

May Well Be Climate Change

The Sun shining warm in the mostly blue sky
On the countryside looking so bare, brown and dry
So warm for March close to thirty degrees
And for Autumn few brown leaves as of yet on the deciduous trees
Farm dams low in water and bone dry every drain
And the farmers and the gardeners of the Moyne Shire are hoping for rain
And doubtless rain would bring life to the dry countryside
But how the weather will be Nature will decide
Not much grass for animals in the paddocks today
The farmers feeding their sheep and their cattle on hay
On this day very warm for the time of year
The flute like songs of the magpies so pleasant to hear
Two days ago it was windy and quite cool the weather of late acting strange
The reason for this may well be Climate Change.

Some Women When It Comes To Love

Some women when it comes to love can be quite silly
Joan she has fallen for loud mouthed Billy
He has a big ego bigger than many
For him she did leave the far humbler young Danny
Billy is the town's number one when it comes to self praising
Some women in their choice of men can seem quite amazing
Joan one of those impressionable young women with an amorous devotion
To egotistical young males quite good at self promotion
Billy at parties thinks he is the main attraction
And with his mouth only is a man of action
Danny her former love by her forsaken
Billy love's passion in her did awaken
Of the humble successful do not know of any
Humility in love did not work for Danny.

Dave Brody

That life it can be a battle Dave Brody knows all too well
Of how it feels to be homeless and hungry he is one who knows all too well
For one homeless a few years ago in his late teens he has come a long way
He lives in a rental unit and has a job and earns his pay
With Jody his pretty girlfriend whom he plans to make his wife
He is looking to the future of beings a dad and a happy life
A few years ago he was homeless on the poor side of the town
But he has proved he is not a quitter hard to keep a good one down
It is surely a truism that all things come to those who wait
Dave Brody the positive fellow one with hope who does keep faith
From being hungry, poor and homeless he found the will to succeed
He is a rare breed of person quite a noble man indeed
To Jody his pregnant girlfriend he plans to be wed next year
His life story one of success of such one does not often read or of hear.

It Is Governments

It is governments who do cause people divide
And instil in their citizens nationalistic and patriotic pride
And who they want you to love and to hate and who they want on their side
It is governments on these things who always decide
On the running of the Country affairs people do not have a say
They only had that on election day
It is governments not people on other Countries war does declare
For the opinions of anti war people one thought they do not spare
The views of minorities by governments never taken into account
As if their worth as people to nothing does amount
It is governments decide who for they should legislate
Unemployed people they do not see as an asset to the State
It is governments who decide who are honourable and just
And those we should like and those we should not trust.

In The Prime Of Ruby Murray

Her beautiful singing voice to many brought such joy
In the prime of Ruby Murray i was a schoolgoing boy
The beautiful songstress from Donegal Road Belfast was famous Worldwide
The marvellous Ruby Murray then she was old Ireland's pride
Since the prime of Ruby Murray some sixty years ago
There has been a lot of changes and time has become my foe
In the British top twenty in nineteen fifty five in one week she had five singles a World record at that time
She was a living legend when in her glorious prime
In December nineteen ninety six Ruby Murray died of cancer when in her sixty first year
Her mellifluous singing voice on cd remains a joy to hear
In her prime one of the World's great pop stars though her gift of life from her has gone
The beautiful singing voice she was born with today is living on
That she deserved to be famous of her none could deny
But since the prime of Ruby Murray so many years gone by.

Indigenous Australians

Many of Australia's first people live in dire poverty
They are not receiving a fair go is how it seems to be
On saying that indigenous Australian millionaires are in the few
Is not saying anything that is in any way new
Indigenous Australians are among the poorest of the poor in the Australia of today
And this seems a sad thing for to have to say
The Land that was taken from them has created many a multi millionaire and billionaire
:Life for some truly is not always fair
From the Land of their ancestors those who dispossessed them did gain
But as Australia's first people they will always remain
They will always be the descendants of the people of the Dreamtime
The legends of story and inspiration of rhyme
Australia's first people have never received a fair go
On saying this i am only saying what happens to be so.

A March Evening In The Moyne Shire

A beautiful evening of around twenty degrees
With only the slightest of a sea breeze
Blowing above the paddocks bare, dry and brown
In the coastal countryside close to Koroit Town
In March the first month of the southern Fall
In the roadside drains not one drop of water at all
Of the drought conditions the farmers of the Moyne Shire have cause to complain
And for months have been hoping for downpours of rain
The weather of late has been acting quite strange
The reason for this may well be climate change
In the bare and dry paddocks little to eat for sheep and cattle true to say
The reason the farmers are feeding them hay
With the sun on their wings in the blue and gray sky
On pursuit of flying insects the dark swallow fly.

Gang Gang Cockatoos

Their appearance and voice to their identity a give away
Parrots i know of but do not see every day
Gray mottled brown birds males with red around the head and face
The female the plain one which in birds is often the case

Cockatoos who spend their days on trees for insects probing around
I have yet to see them feeding on the ground
They also eat berries and the fruits of hawthorns in the Fall
To most other cockatoos in appearance and ways quite different overall

From predators their appearance them does disguise
Though from their low squeaky door voices them one can recognize
They live in small flocks and pairs in south eastern Australia they do not range far and wide
Sometimes seen in town and city parks but mostly in the wooded countryside

In hollow log or caity in trunk of an old growth tree
The female lay her eggs pale white of two to three
In secluded wooded place they live to a great age
Birds not often seen in an aviary or a cage

Arboreal parrots like the larger dark brown weerloos
The birds known as gang gang cockatoos
Of Australia's birds not of the better known
Though they are distinctive with ways of their own.