Birds I See Every Day

Magpies and red wattlebirds i often see
As well as magpie larks also known as pee wee
The introduced goldfinches, blackbirds, starlings and sparrows are familiar to me
As creatures of Nature they live wild and free
Birds that nest on trees and find their food on the ground
Near where i live straw necked and white ibis and white faced herons in numbers abound
Willy wagtails, blue wrens and new holland honeyeaters to parks and gardens belong
Once seen and once heard one could never again get them wrong
In winter cattle egrets are birds i see every day
From the grazing herds of cattle they are never far away
The large ruminants as they graze flush small life forms with their feet
Frogs and grasshoppers to the taste buds of the egrets are sweet
Swamphens, moorhens, coots, gulls, wild duck and great egrets, grebes and cormorants from water never far away
These are just some of the birds i do see every day
As well as long billed corellas, swans, pelicans, rosellas, black cockatoo and tiny thornbill
And emus the big flightless birds of Tower Hill.

The Promotion Of Fear

In a political or a religious run State not that much difference it would appear
As they both base their power on the medium of fear
Keeping people fearful assures them of staying in command
The reason for this not hard to understand
Fear of being murdered by a bomber or of your soul going to hell
Two well promoted fears that always seem to work well
For political and religious leaders promotiing fear seems to pay
Fear of god and terrorism we hear of every day
As if following their advice our spot in heaven and freedom of terrorism would be a guarantee
Some people are quite naive and gullible is how it seems to be
By political and religious leaders their promotion of fear is over abused
To maintain their grip on power such verbal tactics by them used
Fear of god and bad people capable of heinous crime
With their gullible followers seem to work everytime.

Yesterday's Stranger

People are as you find them as the wise one does say
And yesterday's stranger may be your friend today
Far out in the countryside your car has broken down
A passing stranger came to your assistance and drove you into town
And yesterday's stranger is your today's best friend
When you were in trouble one you did not know assistance did lend
Others passed by without stopping as you stood by your broken down car
As is said when you are in trouble you know who your friends are
It is true that life does work in the strangest way
Yesterday's stranger is your best friend today
Your mobile phone out of charge and your car broken down
A passing kindly stranger came to your assistance and drove you into town
A generous stranger who for payment in money did not wish to be paid
In your time of need had come to your aid.

The Fact Of The Matter

For you and me and everyone a last sunrise
As we are born as mortals this much we realize
And all mortals are born eventually for to die
For the cow and the sheep the same for you and i
The average human life span of years is three score and ten
Though women on average live a few years longer than men
The Reaper of lives claims the lives of young and old and of those in their lives prime
And can call on anyone at anytime
Though you may be one others may not forget
For you too there will be a last sunset
Each dawn to our last dawn brings us one day more near
So many will not see the birth of next year
The fact of the matter and fact never lie
Is the longer we live the sooner we will die.

Though Most People

Though most people can tell apart a currawong from a crow
So little of Nature's ways most can claim for to know
But we learn as we live something new every day
Life is a learning experience it does seem this way
So little we do know of Nature indeed
Even experts on marine life do not know where the blue whales do breed
Despite the aid of twenty first century technology they still cannot say
On what ocean the World's largest mammal does breed today
Nature is one who has ways of her own
And her many secrets to humans will never be known
And the more we learn of  her the more we realize
That of her we know little this not a surprise
Though most people can tell a rabbit from a hare
Those who know a lot about Nature are to say the least rare.

The Last Rose Of Autumn

Resplendent in Summer with red flowers on her clothes
The queen of the graden has lost her last rose
On the petals of her last rose the ground insects does feed
That in Nature nothing is wasted seems so true indeed
On the birth and death of beauty Nature has her say
This is how it is and it will always be this way
In the Southern land a cool Winter's day
Quite typical June weather looking cloudy and gray
The rose tree of the garden is looking quite bare
Cloaked in her roses of Summer she possessed beauty rare
But by mid Spring new rose buds on her branches will show
And into beautiful roses in a few weeks will grow
The petals of Autumn's last rose are going to decay
And what is for the rose will be for me one day.

Perhaps I May Never Again See Duhallow

Perhaps i may never again see Duhallow
I left there years ago my life's dreams for to follow
On a gray day in an afternoon of early December
It was cold wet and windy as i do remember

The last brown leaves of the year from their deciduous trees falling
As i went off to follow the wanderlust's calling
The rain drizzling down from a sky heavily clouded
And the Boggeraghs from view by the gray fogs were shrouded

Cold wind through Duhallow from Sliabh Luachra blowing
And the Blackwater bank high in the old fields was flowing
On through north Cork as ever in motion
On it's long winding journey to the Atlantic ocean

The ties that had bound me i had chosen to sever
And the past it has gone it is in the forever
I left old Duhallow in wintery weather
When the hare had come down from the bracken and heather

The cattle in the farmyard sheds for fodder did bellow
A memory of leaving in a foreign bound fellow
To the lust of the wander i did not have the strength of resistance
I do envy the stay at home happy in their sedentary existence

I left the old fields though memories of them me did follow
And in reality i may never more see Duhallow
Rain drizzling from the gray clouds today i remember
That cold, windy and wet day in early December.

Some So Called Religious People

Some so called religious people are not free of the taint of sin
They pray to their universal god but have lost their god within
For them to defraud someone out of money is good business and okay
And they believe their god will forgive them when for fogiveness they pray
That they are far from honest is something they deny
The only god that they have is somewhere in the sky
What they see as good business in reality is a crime
But if the law does not catch up with them Karma will in time
Some so called religious people to their higher selves not true
But what we do to others eventually becomes our due
For the wrongs they do to others they believe their god them will forgive
They are quite hypocritical in the way they choose to live
Some so called religious people have lost their god within
What to them is good business is in fact a mortal sin.

The Men Who Built The City

As young men they never went to fight in wars in Countries far away
Perhaps this is the reason that they are the forgotten of today
For the men who built the city never a street parade
So sad to say from history they have been allowed to fade

The men who built the city loved their children and their wives
Such great hard working fellows who lived honourable lives
They worked hard for the wages that their bosses to them paid
But no monument built to them and for them no fanfare played

For future generations they planted the progress seed
The men who built the city were mighty men indeed
Yet their names you will not see on any memorial wall
That they are of the forgotten does not seem right at all

They worked hard to raise their families and they earned their every pay
The men who built the city at peace forever lay
They ought to be remembered but it does seem sad to say
That the men who built the city are the forgotten of today.

The Boys Of The Fifties

The boys of the fifties are not young today
The years have left them looking wrinkled and gray
In the late nineteen sixties they were in their lives prime
Anybody does never get younger in time
Some of them are married and some of them married did not stay
And some of them are ageing grandparents today
And some of them at peace where those in peace lay
In life no guarantees as the wise one does say
Some of them from their first homes did not venture far
And today they patronize their first and only local bar
And some of them ageing in cities far away
From where they first looked on the bright lamp of day
The boys of the fifties their best years long gone
And the clocks on their lives ever keep ticking on.

The Norfolk Pine Trees Of Warrnambool

The norfolk pine trees of warrnambool are so very old
In the coastal freshening winds waving a sight to behold
They have inspired artists and the writers of song, story and rhyme
For to sketch and write of them over decades of time

Most of the people who helped to plant them are not living today
In the Warrnambool cemetery in their long rest they do lay
Their work a feature of Warrnambool one in truth can only say
Many Seasons have gone by since they drew their last pay

Beside them most other trees to say the least seem small
Above the coastal City they do stand so tall
Warrnambool would look quite ordinary without it's norfolk pine trees
How beautiful to see their higher branches waving in the freshening coastal breeze

In Spring on their high branches the  ravens do nest
It's trees help to make Warrnambool the pride of Victoria's south west
The people who helped to plant them from life's cares have found release
In the Cemetery by the Hopkins River today they are at peace.

As A Truism Remain

For pieces of silver Jesus Christ was sold
And people are murdered for money and gold
To the human mind known to be corruptible indeed
This thing often referred to as demon greed

But better for to live your life in an honourable way
For what goes around comes around seems true to say
For your sins against others there will be some price to pay
If the law does not catch up with you Karama will one day

Honourable people one has to admire
For taking advantage of others they feel no desire
Honest in their dealings they never tell lies
And they do not have the guilt of a wrongdoing to another for to disguise

You may embezzle and cheat and do others ill
But if the law does not catch up with you one day Karma will
What goes around comes around as a truism remain
And why this is so it's own self does explain.

Aubane In June

The sweet scent of grass mowed for silage or hay
In the meadows of Aubane in view of Mushera today
The sun intermittently peeps from behind clouds of gray
For to describe such amazing natural beauty there are not words to say
The voice of the migratory cuckoo quite pleasant to hear
Aubane is at her finest in June of the year
Dark barn swallows in pursuit of flying insects chirping as they fly
To and fro all day long across the summery sky
A poet of such natural beauty would write
A poem for lovers of Nature to enjoy and read and recite
The valley of Aubane at her finest in her Summer green
Between Mushera and Tullig hill rare beauty to be seen
The contented cattle on lush grass chewing their cuds do lay
In a beautiful place on a warm June day.

Lily Gray

In her prime quite a beauty those in the know say
She is ageing with grace lovely Lily Gray
A great grandmother in her early eighties her husband Bill long in his grave
A victim of leuchaemia his life doctors could not save
And though she grieved for him Lily his devoted wife
Without her soulmate she had to go on with the living of life
Wavy gray hair to her shoulders that was nugget brown
In her prime years when she was the Rose of the town
One who is well loved by all to she is known
In her one bedroom flat she lives on her own
A friendly person free of any guile or conceit
She smiles and says hello to everyone she does meet
Eighty three on her last birthday on the sixth of May
The lovely and so likeable Lily Gray.

The Attention Seekers

Driving in the country town in his big six cylinder truck
Displaying the trappings of his affluence for him half of his luck
His ego by him is not hidden away
There for all to see on public display

Yet so many like him in every village, city and town
With their engines revving in their big vehicles driving up and down
On streets familiar to them their egos on show
Honking their horns at everyone they does know

Those who have the mind syndrome of look at me
They are not uncommon every day one them does see
They like it when people are looking their way
Some men behave like unruly boys it takes all kinds as they say

Revving their big cars and trucks and their stereos blaring loud
They create as much noise as a small noisy crowd
Of seeking attention this does seem their way
And their sort i do see and hear every day.

Kolor In June

In the mostly blue sky just a few clouds of gray
The sun it is shining on Mt Rouse today
And the familiar warbling flutes are so pleasant to hear
Of the magpies who sing every day of the year
Long before the first Europeans to what is now known as South West Victoria came
Kolor for the volcanic now known as Mt Rouse was it's indigenous name
The old volcanic hill that will ever look down
On the ancient stony countryside around Penshurst Town
A hill sacred to Australia's first people going back the centuries
Where they hunted and socialized and had their corroborees
But no didgeridoos heard on Kolor today
That time brings with it changes only true to say
The volcanic hill of Kolor in June in the Winter sunlight
For to say the least is a beautiful sight.

Death Does Come To Everyone

Death does come to everyone eventually
But feel grateful for every dawn you wake to see
For some today will be their last living day
We do not know when the Reaper of lives will come reaping our way
To the scythe of Life's Reaper we eventually does fall
We are born to die death does come to us all
So many people do compete for success
But life is the greatest gift we do possess.

Karma Will Rewartd You

The past is behind us the future of us ahead
And the now is all that does matter as has often been said
Make the most of the now this is the best you can do
Since you do not know what tomorrow has in store for you
Everybody have their own dream in life to pursue
But for only a tiny minority their dreams for them come true
In the twenty first century success judged by many on material gain
And into the future this is how this will remain
Most people of the opportunities that come their way try their best to avail
But for one to be successful in a big way others do have to fail
Everyone cannot be a winner life does not work in this way
But the best you can do is make the most of every day
And always be willing to help those of your helping in need
For Karma will reward you for your every good deed.

Everyone Have Their Stories

Everyone have their stories of life for to tell
And i have my own little stories as well
Of my journey in life that has brought me far south
Of the fields of the badger and waterways of the brown trout

The few who have their life stories published by publishers to say the least rare
Such a privilege only afforded to the famous multi millionaire
Big commercial publishers never publish the life stories of those not widely known
It is not on poor investments the source of millions is sown

We all have our life stories and we all grow old
Though some their life stories by them never told
Some believe everyone are born equal but it is not this way
Equality is only where dead people lay

Everyone has a life story and i do as well
But only the wealthy and famous have their biographies published to sell
Money speaks every language as the wise one does say
This is how it always has been and how it always will stay.

Politicians

For themselves and their families and close friends they only does care
Trustworthy politicians are to say the least rare
Bigger fool you are if you believe everything they do say
Since they do go back on their word every day
Since most of them only know how to deceive
The words of most politicians seem hard to believe
If you trust them the price in deception you pay
The trust placed on them they quite often betray
Every day in parliament the truth they do deny
To most questions asked of them their's is an ambiguous reply
Most career politicians know how to deceive
And bigger fool you if their words you believe.

The People Many Look Up To

The people many look up to i cannot admire
A boring old bloke like me they cannot inspire
Multi millionaire celebrities uninspiring to me
I just wonder what so many in them does see
Elitism and egotism the impressionable masses create
In the arrogant people they choose to celebrate
The admiring gullible create many a celebrity multi millionaire
The down to earth celebrities are to say the least rare
On saying the impressionable masses create the super rich famous few
Is not saying anything that is in any way new
Who they choose to admire with me is fine
But their heroines and heroes are definitely not mine
Such arrogant people the gullible masses create
But then it is up to them who they wish to celebrate.

For The Second Day Of June

For the second day of June and the calendar Winter such a beautiful day
The sun shining bright in a sky blue and gray
Old Illowa a month ago brown now is looking so green
As beautiful looking as it has ever been
A weather temperature high for the day of seventeen degrees
Of only a very slight mild coastal breeze
Blowing up from the Pacific from Killarney Bay
From where i am standing not that far away
Such beautiful weather for the time of year
The flutes of the magpies melodious and clear
Of Nature no shortage of material for to write rhymes about
In this beautiful place in this Land of the south
The dainty pied magpie larks calling pee wee
And Nature so beautiful all around me.

When It Comes To Nature

Though my wonder of her only does seem to grow
So little about her i can claim for to know
Though i can tell apart a ram from a ewe
But on the knowing of this i am not one of a few

But we learn as we live as the wise one does say
And of Nature we learn something new every day
And the more i learn of her the more i realize
That of her i know little this is not a surprise

Nature has beauty that is always rare
And with her none other can hope to compare
The one who from tiny seeds creates beautiful flowers
None other does have her creatives powers

On her Mother Earth we depend on for to live
But we take and take from her and in return to her nothing give
Of Nature and her ways how ignorant we are
More carbon emissions for every new car

In the acquiring of knowledge us humans have come a long way
But for knowledge is the abuse of our Earth Mother the price we must pay
What we do unto her to all of humanity we do
And of blame this includes me and does not omit you.

Nothing To Say

Known by the nickname of Nothing To Say
He never greets anyone with a good day
Though down to earth and quite free of guile
He is one who does not know how to smile
It is said of love in his life he never has known
In his mid forties he lives on his own
I have been told that he is rather wise
He works quite hard but he never does socialize
Independent in his ways friends he does not need
Loners nowadays are an endangered breed
I say hello to him when passing him by
But to my greeting he does not reply
He lives up to his nickname of Nothing To Say
To anyone he never does say good day.

On Crows

Corvids are not good singers as everyone know
But few birds as clever as the black feathered crow
I have see ravens dip hard bread to soften in water which made me realize how clever they are
Of all the birds i know of the cleverest by far
Crows for their cleverness are widely known
As thinkers in the bird World in a class of their own
Stories of their thinking ability does abound
Smarter birds than crows are not to be found
Species of corvids does range far and wide
In towns and cities and in the countryside
One often does hear them on the tall trees
Their raucous cawing carrying in the breeze
Not a good singer the black feathered crow
But of cleverer birds than them i do not know.

A Lotto Big Jackpot Winner

A lotto big jackpot winner today celebrate
Financially he was not doing well of late
But a ten dollar lotto ticket has made him five times a millionaire
The lucky as he is in the World are rare
In his early thirties divorced and unemployed
Yesterday he was sad today he is feeling overjoyed
Yesterday afternoon when he bought the lotto ticket lad luck smiled his way
Suddenly the financially poor man is very wealthy today
That luck in life is most important cannot be denied
Yesterday good fortune was on his side
You never can tell when your luck will be in
For a ten dollar investment he had a huge win
Yesterday he was sad today he feels overjoyed
Suddenly he is no longer one of the unemployed.

Ted And Jack

Old Ted says there is a reason at eighty two that i am alive
Good health only one reason to this age i did survive
And it is not due to luck alone that anyone to an old age does last
I am one who has never driven my car too fast
His wife Kate of cancer died two decades ago
And time that rusts iron has become his foe
A grandfather twelve times he lives on his own
Ted is one well liked by all to he is known
Often see Ted in the park with his fox terrier Jack
His devoted canine companion a sprightly white and black
Jack at three years old in his physical prime
And Ted gray haired and wrinkled showing the wear of time
Ted will tell you of anything in life he does not lack
And he is so lucky to have his friend  Jack.

The Arrival Of June

Though the day is not raining a cool chill about
Winter has arrived in the Land of the south
There is a certain coolness in the timid breeze
On a cool high for the day of sixteen degrees
The magpies in their warbling a bit out of tune
They do not reserve their best singing for June
In Winter their finest notes one never does hear
Though they are known to sing every day of the year
Though Winter has arrived without any rain
The tiny breeding frogs singing in every pond and drain
Their tadpoles will have grown to young frogs by the Spring
The cycle of Nature is an amazing thing
Little warmth in the sunshine on Winter's first day
But for the time of year this to be expected in truth one can say.

Everybody Have Their Own Life Stories

Everybody have their own life stories to tell
Though few ever published in book form to sell
Stories of the wealthy and famous we hear of and read every day
It is a winner's Human World in truth one can say
The lives of poor people few wish to know about
Of the World of winners they are counted out
Those who talk of human equality believe their own lie
Equality only does come when you die
So many on the wrong side of the social divide
As the gap between the wealthy and poor keeps on growing Worldwide
And though the wealthy and famous so many admire
To look up to such people i feel no desire
And though news on the wealthy and famous books and magazines sell
Everybody have their own life stories to tell.

Not A Fan Of Celebrities

I never shed a tear at the news of any wealthy celebrity who does die
If i said that i did this would be a lie
At the loss of a dear friend i would only shed tears
One i have known and loved for many years
People make small gods of every celebrated multi millionaire
Who of their existence are not even aware
I am not a fan of celebrities my loyalties are elsewhere
With the poor and down trod of the World out there
The impressionable make heroines and heroes of the privileged few
And this is not saying anything that is new
There are millions of their sort in the Human World of today
Celebrity worship is with us to stay
At the death of any celebrity i never feel moved to tears
Only at the passing of a dear friend that i have known for years.

The Town's Dark Haired Rose

A dark skinned dark haired beauty of eyes of dark brown
The fairest by far on her side of the town
As nice a person as one could wish to meet
She carries joy with her when walking the street
So down to earth in her ways without any guile
She greets everyone with a beautiful smile
In her early twenties the town's dark haired rose
She looks so attractive even in casual clothes
But the wanderlust in her for lands far away
One in the hometown who has no wish for to stay
She plans to enjoy life and do her own thing
And it seems she will be far from home by the Spring
Her roadways of life will lead her to elsewhere
To far bigger towns in the big World out there.

My Friends Of The Past

Though i have long shed my last nostalgic tears
And i have not seen them for thirty two years
My friends of the past in my thoughts i recall
I socialized with them and played games of ball

On looking back the decades how quick time does fly
I only have memories of Seasons gone by
Our teen yearas go quickly and too our lives prime
And in memory we only can go back in time

In life we did go on our separate way
And to them i may well be a stranger today
And though them again i may never more see
In their thoughts of the past they may remember me

In my prime years i was one not without a friend
But time ticks along and old friendships do end
In life we had different journeys to go on
And though the past we remember the past it has gone

Since then i have grown older but i have not grown more wise
We played football together and with them i did socialize
My friends of the past i remember today
But we live in the now as the wise one does say.

Not For Me To Say

Not for me to say of a paradise beyond the sky
Where good souls post bodily death with wings to does fly
Since any deceased person i have known have not come back to me to tell
Of an afterlife for the soul or of a heaven or hell
Death at life's journey's end for all a guarantee
It comes to the wealthiest and those in dire poverty
You may be quite talented and a great financial success
But your life is the greatest gift you do possess
Humans age rathet quickly beyond their physical prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
But in life those willing to give in return can expect to receive
On such a life philosophy i do believe
And not for me to say when i draw my last breath
That my soul will outlive my bodily death.

The Seconds And Minutes

The seconds and minutes keep ticking away
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today
And remember the old song it's words do not lie
That the longer you live the sooner you will die
The Reaper of lives does not care of how wealthy you are
Or of the size of your home or of the size of your car
Despite your social status the monarch of death
Will not spare you of your greatest gift living breath
From your material successes your head swollen in pride
And you may well feel you have time on your side
But the Reaper of lives will claim life's breath from you
And nothing about it you can hope to do
The clocks on our lives ever ticking away
And remember again what the old song did say.

On Gray Currawong

Medium sized gray birds of the wooded countryside
From south east to south west but not Australia wide
About the size of a medium sized crow
Shy birds of the woods of hard to get to know
With white tips on wing and tails and palish yellow eyes
Their ringing calls heard in the woodland at sunrise
They build a nest of sticks high on a tree
Where the female lay spotted buff eggs of two to three
Like all species of currawong they are known to like the taste of meat
They kill the nestlings of smaller birds for to eat
By their appearance and their bell like song
Once seen and once heard one never again get them wrong
Since human beings they have reason to fear
They fly away if to them you come near.

A Very Good Man

He may not be among the wealthy of the town
But in words or deeds he never drags anyone down
And anyone who is in need of helping he will help if he can
He is one best described as a very good man
A man who does work hard for his every pay
With a wife and a two year old daughter and another baby on the way
A carefree young man on the right side of time
In his mid twenties and in his physical prime
He feels no desire to be wealthy and known far and wide
With his lot in life he is well satisfied
Devoted to his little daughter and wife
The honourable man lives an honourable life
One who does work hard for his every pay
And for to help others out does go out of his way.

Rather Boring For You

Of late you have not enjoyed a good laugh or two
Life has to be rather boring for you
Of the one looking sad few of does wish to know
Whilst the friends of the happy one in numbers grow
The happy sound of laughter is such a joyful thing
And happiness to others it always does bring
Those who can laugh though financially down
Are never short of friends on their side of the town
Laugh and the Whole World does laugh with you
Is something that only happens for to be true
Happy people when walking the street
Share some of their joy with everyone they does meet
Life has to be rather boring for you
Since of late you have not enjoyed a good laugh or two.

If There Never Was Marriage

That marriage can lead to happiness there is no guarantee
Some marriages does end in acrimony
If there never was marriage would you not agree
We would never know of the word bigamy

Though the fans of marriage are many of course
If we never did have it there would not be divorce
And blamimg and counter blaming that goes on for years
Many marriages that began in love and kisses end in bitterness and tears

A marriage certificate a man does not need
Into a woman for to plant his seed
Nothing to be gained from matrimony
Though many with this would surely not agree

Marriage between people can be a bind
And after a while some out of it does seek ways to find
Many marriages nowadays are not known to last
Matrimony may soon be a thing of the past

Many so in love on the day they were wed
A few years later with someone else does share a bed
Does humanity need marriage is not for me to say
Suppose each to their own and to their own way.

The Kindhearted And Caring

Everyday they do try to plant Karma's good seed
By helping the people of their helping in need
Yet they are not famous or even well known
Though as people they are in a class of their own
If everyone were like them how great this would be
There would not be anyone in poverty
Without the reward of money for pay
They perform a good deed or more every day
The people of kindness and compassion and generosity
For those doing it tough they feel great empathy
Quite selfless in their ways which is a rare thing
Their praises i always feel happy to sing
They feel happy to remain as strangers to renown
The kindhearted and caring unsung of the town.

On News Of Patrick Cotter

For his wife Mary and his family and his many friends his passing a sad day
Patrick Cotter lived as a good person in every way
One well liked by many he was widely known
And Millstreet in him has lost one of it's own

One of the finest dancers in the Star Ballroom when he was a young man
This is going back the Seasons of years quite a span
A handsome dark haired fellow when in his life's prime
Long before he became a victim of time

In life one who made a new friend every day
Anyone of him never had unkind things to say
Perhaps in his late seventies when he breathed his last
On looking back the Seasons time does tick on fast

His passing from Liscahane where he and Mary had lived for years
And where they raised their daughters would not have gone without tears
From Liscahane and Millstreet in the flesh he may have gone
But in all who knew him good memories of him will live on

Though in St Mary's in view of Cashman's Hill his last remains lay
In the minds of the living the dead they are living today
And in the memories of those who knew him Patrick as living remain
And he dances with Mary in the Star Ballroom again.

James The Rhymer

He has written a lot over decades of time
Old James with the literary honour of the local laureate of rhyme
Far beyond the town borders he is widely known
His output of rhymes into thousands has grown
Since he is one the literary critics does not see as worthy to criticize
Up the literary ladder he has failed to rise
Yet he remains the number one rhymer of town
And thus retains his claim to literary renown
In rhyming words with him none can hope to rate
In rhyme the local successes he does celebrate
In rhyming words he has made for himself a name
James the Rhymer his nickname one of local fame
He penned his first verses when he was nineteen
And sixty years since then of life he has seen.

Flag Waving

Extreme patriotism can be a dangerous thing
Of the love of their Country and their Country's flag they may sing
But that these can lead to feelings of superiority and to war can give rise
Is something many patriots seem to fail to realize
The long dead war heroes from the memory not allowed to fade
By those waving their national flags at the big war parade
Signs of extreme nationalism and patriotism i see every day
Photos of their national flags on their car windscreen on display
The national flag a symbol of national pride
So often too often to war it is tied
It is out of flag waving at the street war parade
That the future young heroes of war are made
Of the victims of terrorism and war we often read
Flag waving to such things quite often does lead.

Much The Same Everywhere

I felt lost in a world where the topics of the day
Were the prices of livestock and of grain and silage and hay
And of politics and hurling and Gaelic football
Some people their biggest worries does seem small

Where one who was cultured was looked on as odd
A strange one the child of  a far lesser god
From them and their ways apart i slowly grew
I must be quite odd since my friends are so few

The boy who is laughed at in primary school
Must live until he die with the tag of a fool
He has a chip on his shoulder some of him does say
Since he is one who does not think in their way

In a World where people are judged kindly for their material success
And those of little money does fail to impress
Society's judgmental they are not rare
Though of their judgmental ways they are not aware

Those i went to school with like me ageing today
And some of them where the deceased are does lay
Age comes to the human being like the sheep or the cow
And their material achievements scarce matter to them now

I grew up in a place where silage and hay
Was more often than not the topic of the day
Only for to find in the big World out there
That in rural places much the same everywhere.

On High Claramore

Far inland today from Hibernia's shore
Up there in the high wood of green Claramore
The nesting birds of Nature are singing today
For to describe such beauty are there words for to say
The songs of Nature's feathered minstrels so pleasant to hear
On what is a beautiful time of the year
In late Spring and early Summer Nature at her finest is seen
After the recent rain the countryside looking beautiful and green
Such beauty that artists and writers inspire
Of singing of Nature's praises one never could tire
Above the slopes of Clara a musical speck in the sky
The brown lark is singing as upwards he does fly
Where the sun it is shining in a sky blue and gray
On high Claramore from here far away.

Jesus Said

Jesus said if you do not welcome the stranger you do not welcome me
I for one with this beautiful quote does agree
So many national leaders nowadays does lack in empathy
They refuse to offer shelter to the stateless and dispossessed refugee
So many leaders in the World today who are cruel
To the poor and oppressed who suffer under their rule
And when to another land for safety they feel compelled to flee
They are told our borders are closed to every poor refugee
Some countries leaders abuse their power in a bad way
When any respect for human rights they refuse for to pay
Because of people of power who lack in empathy refugee camps are full today
Power does corrupt as the wise one does say
Jesus said if you do not welcome the stranger you do not welcome me
This is such a beautiful saying would you not agree.

God Is For Everyone

If there is a god this god is for everyone
And not for the billionaires and their daughter and son
And not for a muslim or christian or jew
Yes god would be for everyone and not for the few
If there is a god this god is not a she or a he
A supreme being of any prejudices one who is free
Who does not see colours of black, white or brown
And does not pass any judgement on the financially down
If there is a god in a paradise somewhere beyond the sky
Where good souls post bodily death with wings to does fly
This god between people does not differentiate
And would never condone acts of violence born of hate
If there is a god this god is for all
People and creatures from the great to the small.

Not The Man He Used to Be

Before time that rusts iron did become his foe
A regional champion athlete many decades ago
He is not the man that he used to be
The athlete of the year of nineteen sixty three
Then in his mid twenties in his physical prime
He has become one more of those who has lost out to time
Frail looking his thinning hair is silvery gray
He is one who has known of a better day
I often see him out walking with his devoted wife
Great grandparents she remains the love of his life
He used to run fast and now he walks slow
Eventually time on the best of them show
The athlete of the year of nineteen sixty three
He is not the man that he once used to be.

At The Grave Of The Fallen Hero

At the grave of the fallen hero The Last Post has been played
But he was not there this morning to march in the big war parade
And he had to give his young life for to become a great name
And he does not know where he lay of his glory and his fame
He did not live to father children and for to grow old and gray
He was brought home a dead hero from a war zone far away
He has lost his life in battle the greatest gift he did possess
At his death his grieving mother is bereft of happiness
One of many dead war heroes life without him does go on
He did not live to grow old and talk of his better days long gone
Many lives have to be sacrificed for a war for to be won
And many a mother left to grieve for her fallen soldier son
At the grave of he fallen hero The Last Post has been played
But he was not there this morning for to march in the parade.

In The Age Of Self Promotion

In the age of self promotion boasting of self is the in thing
And at every community gathering people their own praises sing
In the early twenty first century the humble have become few
That bragging now is seen as normal is not saying anything that is new
The wise old saying of self praise is no praise is not seen as relevant today
When i was a younger person it used not to be this way
Nowadays they have the humble person in the losers pigeon hole
Competition between people for attention it does seem out of control
The Human World in need of far more of the compassionate and kind
Sad to say that far too many of promotion of self only inclined
Living for the self only does not say this much of you
Those who spare some time for others for humanity good things do
Of more of the kind and compassionate humanity is in need
In an age when far too many are possessed by demon greed.

The Past Will Be Today

On my flights of fancy i sometimes does hear
The curlew over the bog of Denny The Master in the Spring of the year
When the hawthorns are cloaked on their bloom of pale gray
And the old fields looking resplendent in their wildflowers of May
With Ireland's calendar Summer just a few sleeps away
My thougths they are full of old memories today
I only have memories of Nature's beauty i have seen
Such as bluebells in bloom on ditch of every bohreen
And of dark winged swallows chasing flying insects in the sky
To feed their young in their nests on shed rafters nearby
Where i grew to love Nature as a young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
But we must live in the now as the wise one does say
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today.

The Legend Of Saltwater Bay

The legend it is living of her today
The girl who was drowned on Saltwater Bay
Going back in time some two decades ago
That her disappearance remains as a mystery happens to be so

A dark haired young beauty she was only eighteen
Disappeared whilst swimming never more to be seen
Not destined to give birth to children or to become anyone's wife
There are no guarantees on the length of any human life

Frogmen searched for her remains for kilometres of ocean around
But never a trace of her was to be found
The mystery of her disappearance remains as unknown
And as many mysteries do into legend has grown

It is said that a merman did steal her away
Into deeper waters from Saltwater Bay
And that she is the mother of merchildren today
I only quote here what i hear others say

Some deep sea fishers have sworn in the dim moonlight
They have heard merpeople singing in the still of the night
In deep saltwater far from the ocean shore
Though some say this is their imagination and little else  more

And among the voices of the mermen they swear they did hear
The sweet singing voice of a merwoman melodious and clear
The beautiful young woman who disappeared on Saltwater Bay
Her story does live as a legend today.

Jack Hardy

Jack Hardy is one who loves his glass of cheer
With his mates in the pub he does enjoy his beer
A great grandfather in his eighties he lives on his own
By all of the patrons of the local pub he is well liked and well known
His wife Jane left him many years ago
Going way back in time some two decades or so
She gave him the ultimatum choose her or the alcohol the alcohol he did choose
As Jack says of life you do win and do lose
To be the oldest customer in the local pub one of his claims to fame
Drunk or sober old Jack he always seems the same
One can say of him quite a likeable bloke
He does laugh at life and enjoys a good joke
Time has left him wrinkled and balding and gray
But he is one who makes the most of every day.

My Past Has Followed Me

My past has followed me from a Land far away
But we can only live in the now and the now is today
The sun shining bright in a sky of blue and gray
And the weather quite pleasant for late Autumn and May
The tiny breeding frogs singing in every pond and drain
And the landscape looking green after the recent rain
On a day like today so great to be alive
Such beautiful weather for to go for a drive
The melodious warbling so pleasant for to hear
Of the magpies who sing every day of the year
And though the past has followed me from a place far away
The now is all that does matter as the wise one does say
How lovely to hear the song of the pee wee
And Nature at her finest everywhere around me.

My Heroines And Heroes

Of talk of celebrity multi millionaires and billionaires i quickly does tire
Since they are not the type of people that i do admire
For my heroines and heroes there is never a street parade
Though to the lives of the marginalized a huge difference they have made

My heroine or hero does not own a big house or a big expensive car
Or be decorated with medals from fighting in a war
When they die The Last Post at their grave site is never played
And sadly from memory they are allowed for to fade

My heroines and heroes are compassionate and kind
And money and fame to them not a priority of mind
On helping the homeless and hungry they plant Karma's good seed
The people i admire are great people indeed

My heroines and heroes help people every day
Without expecting the reward of money for pay
For those doing it tough they feel great sympathy
And i admire them for their compassion and kind and for their empathy.

Sheila

Where old Clara Mountain forever looks down
Julia Mary was born and raised a Duggan just west of Millstreet town
But in Claraghatlea she was one who would not stay
As a young woman she migrated to the U S of A
Far from Duhallow in the County of Cork
She married Myles McCabe a good man from County Monaghan in the City of New York
Still happily married and grandparents today
How quickly the years seemed to have ticked away
Yes on looking back the years time does seem to fly
Like most Julia Marys Sheila is the name she is known by
And though this now is going back many Seasons in time
Sheila was quite a beautiful looking woman in her physical prime
Born in the late nineteen thirties she would be eighty today
With her husband Myles living in Weatogue Conneticut in the U S of A.

Life Is What You Make Of It

Life is what you make of it as some like to say
But in reality it is not this way
For millions of people who are doing it tough
Who are often hungry and live and sleep rough
Opportunities and life choices seem to pass them by
And life is what you make of it to them does not apply
They never had life choices and opportunity never comes their way
The challenge of survival they face every day
Life is not for what you make of it for those who are financially down
The disadvantaged people on the poor side of the town
The people without a community voice
Of how they live they do not have a choice
Life is what you make of it is for some maybe
But not for the millions in dire poverty.

The Former Moyne Shire Rose

With anti ageing creams and brown hair dyes she hides her wrinkles and
gray
And clearly she has known of a far better day
In her physical prime her shoulder length hair was as dark as the wing of a crow
The once pride of the Town where the dark Moyne waters flow

Her husband to live with one younger has gone
But without him life for her as usual goes on
A grandmother in her mid sixties she wears stylish clotes
But nowadays one far younger than her is The Moyne Shire Rose

She was The Moyne Shire Rose when in her life's prime
Though this is going back many Seasons in time
She had many suitors but fell for the wrong man
Suppose few things in love ever does go to plan

Single and ageing without a partner in her life
To an unfaithful man for years quite a good wife
Perhaps as a divorcee until death she will stay
Love's hurt can make one wary it seems true to say

The former Rose of The Moyne Shire is fighting time's decay
Though looking well for her years she has known of a better day
She was a rare beuty three decades ago
But time that rusts iron has become her foe.

So Pleasant For Latter May

The last flowers of Autumn are going to decay
And the first of the southern calendar Winter is only eight sleeps away
In the sunny blue sky just a few clouds of gray
The weather is so pleasant for latter May
With such pleasant weather seems hard to complain
The town parks and gardens looking so green after the recent rain
A magpie is warbling on a sunlit gum tree
And how pleasant to hear the song of the pee wee
In the children's playground the laughter of children at their play
Quite a joyful sound in the memory to stay
A beautiful afternoon for to be out and about for the young and the old
Nature in her greenery is beautiful to behold
The weather so very good for latter May
How nice to be living on such a nice day.

The Poor Dead Of War Zones

Poor people do not cause wars but it seems sad to say
That in bombings and shootings in war zones they are injured and dying every day
To be in the wrong place and be there at the wrong time
For the misfortune that befell them was their only crime

The victims of terrorism or of bombings gone wrong
Are people never honoured in story and song
At their grave sites The Last Post it is never played
And sadly from memory they are left to fade

Government leaders who condemn acts of terrorism see war as okay
That in this they are being hypocritical in truth one can say
Since it is a fact that war to terrorism always gives rise
That the deaths of poor people in war zones is seen as collateral damage seems so sad to realize

That government leaders are so detached from their humanity
This is what happens when people lose their compassion and empathy
Those who do declare war the circumstances of it disown
For to be kind and caring their sort will never be known

Every day more victims of terrorism or of a bombing gone wrong
The poor dead of war zones are never honoured in story or song
At the grave sites of civilian war dead The Last Post is never played
And sadly from memory they are allowed to fade.

By The Araglen River

Hidden in the rushes the male pheasant crow
Where the Araglen River to the Blackwater flow
In view of the Boggeraghs from here far away
In Duhallow resplendent in her green cloak of May

In the shallows of the river pool the spotted brown trout
Basking in the sunshine slowly swimming about
The warmth of the sun on their skin to them a pleasurable thing
All creatures of Nature does enjoy the Spring

The old fields lush and green are looking resplendent in their wildflowers
That were brought to bloom by the recent showers
And the hawthorns are cloaked in their blossoms of white
Of such natural beauty Nature writers does write

By the Araglen River in the greenest time of year
The songs of the nesting birds pleasant to hear
And the dark barn swallows chirping as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects across the sunny sky

The tadpoles are wriggling in the pools of every drain
In the old fields lush and green after recent rain
Where the Araglen to the Blackwater babbles it's way
In view of the Boggeraghs in Duhallow in May.

In This Writing Of Rhyme

In this writing of rhyme there is neither money nor fame
Try other forms of literature if as a writer you wish to become a great name
Try writing novels or plays or poetry instead
Of penning rhyme which as a literary form is dead
At least by the literary critics this is what we are told
That rhymers never grow wealthy or famous they only grow old
The twenty first century critics dismiss rhymers as out of date
And rhymers as writers they refuse to rate
I as one who has written reams and reams of rhyme
Has not grown wealthy or famous over decades of time
And i ouight to know what i am on about
Since i have never been one of the literary in for to be counted out
Suppose rhymers did have their good days in the past
But then few things in life ever does seem to last.

On Yellow Billed Spoonbills

Big white birds with yellow spoon like bills near farm dams they like to stay
Yellow billed spoonbills are birds i do not see every day
For to live in flocks they have never been known
Quite solitary birds they like being on their own
They walk in the shallows their long bills in the water swishing from side to side
Their feeding behavious has sameness in spoonbills Worldwide
On a flat nest of sticks high on a tree
The female lays her white eggs of two sometimes three
From their cousins the royal spoonbills not hard to recognize
The royal has dark feet and dark bill and is slightly smaller in size
The yellow billed with yellow feet in town park lakes i have not as of yet seen
Though i have seen them living solitary on farm dams when in the countryside i have been
You may see them on farm dams mostly on their own
Than their cousins the royals they are not as well known.

So Much About Nature

So much about Nature there is for to know
And my wonderment of her only does grow
I first grew to love her as a young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
We learn as we live something new every day
We never stop learning in truth one can say
For to view Nature's wonders money we do not need to pay
Her natural beauty is always on display
So little about Nature i know i have come to realize
Suppose this in itself is not any surprise
So much joy to so many Nature always does bring
And of her praises i always feel happy to sing
For as long as the breath of life in me remain
My love of Mother Nature i know i will retain.

Have You Ever Asked Yourself

Have you ever asked yourself what life is about
And on the existence of an afterlife in your thoughts cast some doubt
You are not alone in thinking this way
Not everyone has a god to for to pray

What life is about ask one other than me
I only believe on the things i do see
Any deceased person i have know have not come back to me to tell
Of an afterlife World or of a heaven or a hell

I sort of envy those who have their god in the sky
In a paradise that their souls to post bodily death with wings to will fly
At least they belive on a life after death
That it is not the end when they draw their last Earthly breath

Of what life is about i cannot claim to know
Though my wonderment of it only seems to grow
I only know humans are born to die
If i did tell you more this would be a lie.

We Learn As We Live

I have heard the curlews sing o'er a far away bog
And i have seen a grown man weep as he buried his dog
His constant companion for some thirteen years
A big macho fellow by death reduced to tears
A muscular fellow who takes pride on being brave
Wept whilst shovelling the earth on his deceased canine's grave
I have heard a supposed to be brave fellow scream out in fear
On seeing a spider on the wall to him near
We all have our phobias in truth one can say
And the bravest of people are not fearless on every way
I have saeen a female wedge tailed eagle from the sky swoop on and kill
A fully grown fox in a paddock at Tower Hill
Such things that we happen to see every day
That we learn as we live it does seem this way.

I Leave It To Those

I leave it to those who feel worthy of literary note
To lay claim to the honourable title of poet
I only write rhymes of the beauty i see
Nature's beauty that is everywhere all around me
One does find new rhymes in Nature every day
The afternoon sky may look gloomy and gray
As time on old Autumn keeps ticking away
One might say quite typical weather for May
The warbling flute like songs always pleasant to hear
Of the magpies who sing every day of the year
The brown Autumn leaves drifting down from every deciduous tree
As the magpie larks sing their familiar pee wee
Though my worth as a rhymer i have reason to doubt
Never shortage of things for to write rhymes about.

The Bull In The Nearby Paddock

The bull in the nearby paddock is bellowing tonight
I only ever hear him roar in the moonlight
I never does hear him bellowing in the day
Or on any moonless night he has nothing to say
He only bellows when the moon is in the sky
And why this be so i do wonder why
Does the moon affect him in some sort of a way
Since on his behaviour it seems to have some part to play?
His loud angry bellows his anger release
With the moon in the sky he is never at peace
That the moon affects him in some way does seem obviuosly clear
Since this is the only time him i do hear
The bull in the nearby paddock is bellowing tonight
The only time i ever hear him is in the moonlight.

No Votes For Politicians

No votes for politicians in the plight of the homeless it does seem this way
On people in poverty most of them does have nothing to say
One does not feel in any way any bit surprised 
That politicians do ignore the marginalized
In today's world money is most important there can be no doubt
The financially down they are counted out
So sad for poor people in the Human World of today
In society it does seem they have no part to play
In a World where for one to win big many does have to lose
To be poor and marginalized anyone does not choose
Those who tell you all people are equal believe their own lie
Equality does come on the day you do die
No votes for politicians on talking of those in dire poverty
Money speaks every language is how it seems to be.

Than Words Can Ever Do

In life we do fulfil our own destiny
Though many with this may choose to disagree
Good people for others good things always do
There is more to life than living only for the me and you
Those willing to help those of their help in need
For their future good karma are planting the seed
Being wealthy and famous does not tell us of the person that you really are
There is more to a person than the size or the value of her or his home or car
Despite the values held by the majority of people in the Human World of today
Your compassion and kindness and generosity says more of you than words can ever say
There is more to life than living only for the me and you
Your kindness to others says more about you than words can ever do.

Though To Many Here Mine

Though to many here mine remains a stranger's face
I feel lucky to be living in this beautiful place
Surrounded by paddocks at most times of year green
As beautiful a place to as i have ever been
I do feel in this place that i do belong
I wake every morning to the magpies song
The birds who do sing every day of the year
Their warbling flute like notes always pleasant to hear
Everywhere i turn to look i do see
The beauty in Nature everywhere around me
Marsupials and emus and beautiful parrots i see every day
Earthly Utopia from here cannot be far away
Though mine here to many is a stranger's face
I feel so lucky for to live in this beautiful place.

One Of The Forgotten

For years he has lived on the brink of despair
And life to him it has not been at all fair
Homeless as a teenager and often financially down
One of the forgotten of the poor side of the town

Estranged from his parents like them he has been in jail
Just one of the many of the suburb by circumstance of birth condemned to fail
Of the tougher side of life he only has known
He may never own a home of his own

With the worst life has thrown at him he has learned to cope
And he is not one of those who lives without hope
Of far better times in the years ahead
All is not lost in the mind of where hope is not dead

Of the suburb where so few can hope for to win
But to thoughts of failure he refuse to give in
In his early twenties near his life's prime
He feels that success will come his way in time.

Australia The Big Land

One of the most amazing big Countries in the World of today
Australia from anywhere in distance far away
A big and wide Land of  scenery and climates of vaying degrees
Home to eucalypt and wattles and pittosporum trees
A Land of many shades of colours of brown and of green
Of amazing wildlife in the wild state nowhere else to be seen
Home to many species of marsupials and megapodes, ratites and monoterene
More species of animals and birds than in anywhere else to i have been
Home to the descendants of the people of the dreamtime
Australia has inspired the writers of song, story and rhyme
Far inland from it's beautiful beaches through a Land wide and brown
There can be hundreds of kilometres of roadway between every bush town
Australia the big land distant from anywhere
One of the amazing Countries of the big World out there.

Nature Lives On

Of Nature so much to learn of in truth one can say
And of her we do learn something new every day
But the more we learn of her the more we realize
That of her we know little this not a surprise
Of the praises of Nature those who love her do sing
To so many such joy her beauty does bring
The one with the unrivalled creative powers
Who from tiny seeds creates beautiful flowers
Like all other life forms us humans to Nature belong
Those who will tell you different have got it all wrong
We all become victims of time in truth one can say
And to the Earth that feeds us we must return one day
Nature lives on us humans born to die
Those who do tell you different believe their own lie.

Based On A Lie

Immortality for humankind is based on a lie
Us humans are mortals and born to die
Many of us our d n a in our genes will survive
In the children we helped to create a little of us may remain alive
Of a life after death ask someone other than me
Deceased people i have known in the flesh i never again see
And none i have known of have come back to me to tell
Of a life after death or of a heaven or hell
Eventually the Reaper of lives will come reaping my way
Like all others i was born to die on some night or day
The biological clocks on our lives ever ticking away
Life's Reaper on our lives has the final say
Us humans are born as mortals and mortals do die
This happens to be fact and fact never lie.

There Are Times

There are times you are happy and times you are sad
In life you must take the good days with the bad
We know of times of laughter and sorrow and tears
In life we have the good and the not so good years
Those who are always happy are quite a rare breed
One can say of them that they are lucky indeed
And those reasonably happy in life doing okay
Though you are never alone on having a bad day
Today some of the happiest people in the town
In the recent past felt despondent and down
We have our happy and sad times life is this way
Everyday for you will not be a good day
There are times you are happy and times you are sad
In life you must take the good times with the bad.

Late May In The Moyne Shire

The gray clouds of rain are low over the bay
It is raining in the coastal countryside today
On what is a cool weather temperature high for the day of fifteen degrees
Yet how pleasant to hear the flute like notes floating in the freshening breeze
Of the silver billed magpies melodious and clear
The birds who do sing every day of the year
And the birds by sight and song familiar to many and me
The magpie larks are singing their distinctive pee wee
With the calendar Autumn less than a forthnight away
It is what you might call a typical late Autumn day
In the Moyne Shire in late May Nature's beauty to be seen
The recent rain has left the paddocks looking fresher and green
The sun it is hidden behind clouds of gray
Quite typical weatherwise for latter May.

Maxine

To help other people willingly inclined
Maxine in her eighties so caring and kind
The young at heart never do feel old
The life stories of people like her ought to be told
To live as a good person her claim to renown
Maxine is well loved on her side of the town
Silver gray hair to her shoulders she is ageing with grace
She always does have a big smile on her face
So down to earth in her ways and free of guile
Maxine never does find it hard for to smile
A great grandmother her husnand long deceased she lives on her own
Over the years her friends and admirers in numbers have grown
Maxine such a beautiful person for to meet
She even carries joy with her when walking the street.

On Where Old Clara Mountain

On where old Clara mountain as ever looks down
Perhaps i will never more see Millstreet Town
Near where i first looked on the bright lamp of day
In green old Duhallow from here far away

A stranger to many in the Town of Millstreet
Where many i knew well today i may not meet
Some of them migrated a few at home ageing today
And some at peace where the deceased are do lay

I may have left Millstreet but it followed me
And on my flights of fancy old friends i do see
Fond memories of them until death i will retain
And in my mental pictures of them young they do remain

Far north of this countryside by Warrnambool
In Millstreet Town i went to primary school
And those living i went to school with ageing women and men
A lot in the World has happened since then

We must live in the now as the wise one does say
And at the stroke of midnight the past will be today
And i only have memories of the what used to be
Of a Town in Duhallow that i may never more see..

Your Greatest Gift

You may be one who does know of success
A talented person many you do impress
A leading celebrity of the big town
To be wealthy and famous two of your claims to renown
Your talents have brought you great success and fame
And beyond your hometown your's is a wel known name
And up the success ladder you have climbed far
People keep telling you of how great you are
But the greatest gift you have all others have too
Though most of them are not wealthy and famous like you
And unlike you they do not own a big home or drive an expensive car
And up the success ladder they have not climbed far
And though many may never know of material success
Like you life is the greatest gift they too possess.

The Stay At Home People

My journey in life it has brought me far south
Of the fields of the badger and waterways of the brown trout
But the stay at home people far happier than me
The big World out there they have no wish to see
I do envy them their contentment of mind
Growing old among their own the sedentary kind
Happy to grow old where they are well known
Where many look on them as of their own
Far south of Millstreet where i went to primary school
To many i am a stranger near old Warrnambool
And though i have lived for many years south of Ireland
With my accent many struggle for to understand
And the stay at home people far happier than me
The big World out there they have no wish to see.

Millstreet In May

On a leafy birch tree a male robin is on song
Near where Finnow the white river goes babbling along
On towards the Blackwater by the Town of Millstreet
In the green rushy fields where the waterways meet

The old green fields looking beautiful in Nature's wildflowers
That were noursihed to bloom by the recent Spring showers
And the hawthorns are cloaked in their blossoms of pale gray
Nature is at her finest in Millstreet in May

The flutes of the curlews so pleasant to hear
They breed in the bogs in the Spring of the year
And the dark swallows in pursuit of flying insects do chirp as they fly
Above the old fields in the gray morning sky

The familiar cawing of the silver backed crow
And the male pheasants are cucking where the rank rushes grow
And the contented cattle chewing their cuds do lay
Among the lush grass on a pleasant Spring day

Birds of the waterways of many of do know
The dark brown dippers of breasts white as snow
Are singing today where the waterways meet
In the green countryside near the Town of Millstreet.

A Winners Human World

In the Human World it is always the same
The winner takes all of the glory and fame
This is how it is and always will be
The losers are quick to fade from memory
The winners new admirers always does gain
The reason for this it's own self does explain
Winning it is linked to ultimate success
And the vast majority always impress
Losing is something that anyone does not choose
In a World where for one to win big many do have to lose
The admirers of the winners in numbers does grow
And the losers few of ever wish for to know
That it is a winners Human World the fact does remain
The reason for this it's own self does explain.

You Are Not A Quitter

That the gods are against you it does seem this way
But if you can smile on for you a bad day
Then of you there is so much for to like about
You may be down but you refuse to be counted out
On life you are one who has drawn the short straw
You surely does know all about Murphy's Law
Not one of the lucky people of the town
Yet you manage to smile though life has you down
Of disappointments you have known of quite a share
But you never say to you life is unfair
Though few things for you ever seem to go right
Beyond the dark tunnel you can see the light
You can smile though for you it has been another bad day
You are not a quitter of you one can say.

On News Of Connie Coakley

Strange news out of Millstreet i read of online today
Connie Coakley of the Station Road from life has passed away
This has to be fake news and is surely a lie
Since people like him are surely not born to die

It is true that time does become everyone's foe
But if Connie Coakley has died though this may not be so
Gone from Duhallow a known and loved face
Since people like him are impossible for to replace

One who knew of the countryside for miles around
Or where the den of a fox or the sett of a badger could be found
Or in the rushy field where a resting hare by day did hide
One well acquainted with Nature of the countryside

Quite a character in Duhallow Connie Coakley was well liked and well known
Do not tell me that Millstreet has lost one of it's own
It is said in the cemetery at West End his remains now lay
Though i can only believe he is living today

One with a great memory that did serve him well
He had many stories and yarns to tell
Of his great adventures in the big World out there
Maybe he has gone off for to live elsewhere

Perhaps on his trusty bicycle in the dead of night
He departed Millstreet in the dim moonlight
And out of Duhallow did pedal his way
And god only knows where he went to today.