So Uplifting To Hear

The sun in it has little warmth though the sky is quite clear

Quite typical weather for the time of year

But to where i am walking in the park playground near

The laughter of children so uplifting to hear

The days growing short in the southern May

And the calendar Winter nearing by the day

But the laughter of children such a marvellous thing

And joy to the listener never fail to bring

In the Autumn sunshine in the park of the town

They laugh as they chase the football up and down

A moment for to live on in memory

When children are playing of cares they are free

Their play hour for them is such a happy time

Such memories that give rise to song, story and rhyme.

On The Passing Of Millie Small

The best of goods come in small parcels wisdom worthy of recall

Recently in her seventy third year she passed from life the amazing Millie Small

In nineteen sixty four with her song  'My Boy Lollipop' she knew of overnight Worldwide fame

And in the World of pop became a celebrated name

A tiny dark skinned Jamacian and beautiful to behold

Millie Small was a legendary singer in the days of old

An energetic and talented performer of her one can say

Her sort are quite rare in the World of today

In the era of pop post rock and roll

A dynamic entertainer and a beautiful soul

The marvellous Millie one free of conceit

And so very likeable and charmingly sweet

A  memorable entertainer from decades long past

So sad to learn Millie Small she has breathed her last

Great memories of her at her best from the sixties refuse for to fade

Today on radio 'My Boy Lollipop' a few times was played

A dynamic entertainer when in her physical prime

Though this is going back many Seasons in time

The great Millie Small has lived her last night and day

May she be at peace now wherever she does lay.

The Poet Of The Town

Though he is one who has known of a far better day

The old poet of the town with words still has a way

In the local pub with his long time devoted wife on a Saturday night

He recites some of his poems to his audience delight

In his early eighties the poet of  town

Some of his poems have earned him widespread renown

In his sixty years of writing some memorable poems he did write

That on Saturday evening in the poetry hour in the pub he often recite

Twelve times a great grandfather the patriarch of his family

His eldest son he is sixty three

With words he is one who does love to play

That his poems will outlive him only true to say

In his younger years a handsome man years ago

But time that ages everyone has become his foe

Balding and grey haired the years on him show

But he is one who retains the bright inner glow

The poet of the town is a down to earth bloke

Some of his humorous poems laughter in his audience provoke

Of the town's many writers he remains the best known

And he is one who is in a class of his own.

It Is The Gullible Millions

The narcissistic woman or the narcissistic man

They never does seem to be short of a fan

Since the down to earth wealthy celebrities are rare than rare

They do not socialize with paupers the known billionaire

It is the gullible millions in the World out there

Their sort increasing in numbers everywhere

Who are mostly responsible for the wealthy celebrities who are famed Worldwide

The people in life who have god on their side

It is the adulation of their fans that lead them to believe

That they must be immortal but in this themselves they only deceive

Since for them there too will be a last night and day

That death makes everyone equal in truth one can say

Today on the radio news another wealthy celebrity has died

One more from the Reaper of lives who could no longer hide.

Some Price To Pay

Mentally as we age we do lose a lot

I remember less nowadays than i have forgot

In ageing for anyone never a win

It is when the gaps in the memory begin

Though i retain a good share of memory yet

Some faces i know by sight their names i forget

To stay young forever something we cannot choose

As we grow older some memory we lose

Some people whose names i know on the park or the street

Only know them by sight nowadays when them i do meet

I recall i once heard a wise woman say

We lose a few brain cells in life every day

And since youth with us does not have that long a stay

For ageing there has to be some price to pay.

The Rose Tree Of Late Autumn

The pink petals of her last rose on the ghround by her lay

To be eaten by ground insects and to Nature's decay

The rose tree of late Autumn has known of a better day

Near the onset of Winter and Spring far away

Nature on all things has the final say

In late Spring she will have new roses to display

On a typical morning for the southern May

The sun it is hidden behind clouds of grey

Without her leaves and flowers the thorny rose tree looks bare

In Spring and Summer with Nature's finest she favourably compare

In late Fall and Winter no beauty in her to see

Just an unattractive to look at bare thorny small tree

The petals of her last rose by her on the ground

As food for Nature's insects crawling around.

Old Jim From Galway

Old Jim from Galway in the pub often talks of his young love Noreen
She lived with her middle aged mum and dad in their cottage by the pebbly bohreen
With wavy shoulder length hair of  brown and eyes blue as ripe sloes of September
She was the first love of his life and her today he does remember

In the grove by her parents cottage they played games like hide and seek they did have so much fun together
As children they were such good friends than neighbours more like sister and brother
Though her he never hugged or kissed he was too young then for such passion
And that was in the olden days when childhood hugging was not in fashion

Her parents their cottage sold and took her with them to England's biggest City
In private he wept for her the tears of lost love and of his heartache none knew of  him to pity
In his twenties he migrated to Australia and in Melbourne met his wife Karen
She could not bear children sad for them both since she was born to life as barren

Last year Karen passed away though she had not been feeling sickly
From a massive heart attack she collapsed and she did die rather quickly
They had been married for fifty years for her he shed his tears of sorrow
But as is often said of grief it does lessen with each tomorrow

In his late seventies Jim from Galway a nice old bloke grey haired he does seem a bit lonely
One who has not known of  many loves in his life two females only
Karen his wife of fifty years last year her journey for her ended
And Noreen his neighbour long ago as a boy a young girl he befriended.

Though The Truth Painful To Tell

You may not become famous for your honesty
Though the truth painful to tell of any guilt will set you free
Lying can become a mind game people with each other play
And that one lie leads to another lie only true for to say
In certain professions honesty is not known for to pay
And no shortage of tainted professions in the Human World of today
In professional careers that truth does not go well far more than a few
And this is not saying anything in any way that is new
The truth for to tell on you may be a hurtful thing
But relief to your conscience it only can bring
From lying some saving of face you may gain
But the guilt that you harbour in you will remain
For as long as you live until the day you will die
And this all because you have chosen to lie.

As The Power To Do Good

On the success ladder you may have climbed far
But this does not tell us of the sort of a person you really are
Since it is not how materially successful you are or the prizes you win
As compassion and kindness can only come from within
The good person may not be one of the admired of the town
But is one who is always willing to help the financially down
The kindest of people are never the most admired
And so few to be like them ever feel inspired
But they live their lives in an unselfish way
By performing a good deed or two every day
For their future good karma they sow the good seed
And of the admiration of others they are not in need
It is not of how wealthy you are or of the prizes you win
As the power to do good only comes from within.

The Old Shearer Ed

He has drunk in pubs in many a town
And on many a country roadway he has driven up and down
In his prime years the gun shearer in many an outback shearing shed
His best years long behind him the old ex gun shearer Ed

A man who has had many lovers but never had a wife
And he cannot say if to any children he has helped to give life
But of his many brief sexual flings he has many stories to tell
That if published in book form would sell rather well

Tall and broad shouldered and brown haired in his physical prime
Though this is going back some five decades in time
In his late eighties balding and grey
He clearly has known of a far better day

One who coped with the hardest work and when put to the test
In shearing competitions at bush town shows he always came out best
But going back the Seasons this was long ago
And time that ages everyone has become his foe

In the nursing home he spends his days in a wheelchair
But you never hear him say that life is unfair
In his prime years the gun shearer in amany a shearing shed
But time has caught up on the old shearer Ed.

It Is Only Saying Something

It is only saying something most of are aware
That few go through life without some cross to bear
And though your biggest sorrow compared to the sorrows of some does seem small
You are one who has experienced grief after all
It is only time itself that does bring relief
To sorrow that gives rise to periods of grief
The burden of grief eased in the shedding of tears
And though the memories of loss remain grief is healed by the years
Those who have known of sorrows one does come to realize
With those who grieve for their loss can empathize
In life there is many an up and a down
And some of the happiest people on their side of the town
In their past of some sorrow they may have known
It is true that in sadness the seeds of contentment can be sown.

I Remain A Millstreet Man

Where the ancient Hill of Clara is forever looking down
On the green fields of Duhallow and the houses of Millstreet Town
It was there back in the forties i first saw the light of day
Long before the yearn for wander from there took me far away

I have done a bit of  travelling far south of Hibernia's Shore
And it has been more than three decades since i climbed on Claramore
But the memories are with me of where my life's journey began
Absence makes the heart grow fonder i remain a Millstreet man

Life does go on as usual in Claraghatlea in Millstreet
In the flat and rushy old fields where the waterways do meet
And in my dreams i hear the rippling of Claramore's restless rill
As it flows on to the river in a tongue that's never still

Many that i knew when younger in Millstreet did not stay
From the Town in view of Clara they are ageing far away
And some of them no longer living where the deceased are they lay
We are born to life as mortals time on our lives has the last say

I have long outlived nostalgia in case you may get me wrong
I wake in the grey dawning to the magpie's warbling song
And i hear the big waves crashing on the foreshore cliffs nearby
As above the coastal paddocks the dark brown cockatoos cry

Far south of views of the Boggeraghs where my life's journey began
As a balding grey haired migrant i may live out my life span
I am just one of the ageing without an end of life plan
And without being patriotic i remain a Millstreet man.

Age Does Not Bring With It

Age does not bring with it wisdom we have come to realize
Since everyone does grow older but few does grow wise
That wisdom happens to be a gift some believe to be true
And some young people are quite wise to give them their due
A truism from the past that remains relevant to today
No fool like an old fool  it does seem this way
I know a few wise people in their physical prime
That are possessed of wisdom way beyond their time
And i do know ageing people old blokes and old dears
Who are not even close to wise though advancing in years
That people grow wiser with age as a falsehood remain
And something one ought not to have to explain
I can speak for myself since i have come to realize
That though i am ageing i am far from wise.

The Great Gift Of Memory

For as long as the gift of memory we retain
Mental images of our past in us does remain
And wherever we go to our memories with us go along
Like the words in an old unforgettable song
Though the bad memories live in us with some regret
Much to our disappointment them we cannot forget
But overall the great gift of memory is a wonderful thing
And every happy memory a smile to the face always bring
Those who lose their gift of memory do not have a past
So feel grateful if your gift of memory in you does last
In you until your last night and day
Since the gift of memory with everyone is not known to stay
Feel lucky if  a good memory you do retain
It helps to mentally take us to the past again.

It Does Seem A Pity

It does seem a pity in truth one can say
That due to extensive farming  wombats are extinct in coastal south west Victoria today
And those into wildlife conservation for awhile have been aware
That in most parts of  mainland  Australia the Country's largest burrowing marsupials are becoming rare
In coastal south west Victoria wombats nowadays one does not see
As they did become extinct there in the mid twentieth century
In south western Victoria never more to be seen
To the ageing  residents of the coastal lands just another memory of what has been
Sadly due to the destruction of their habitats and road deaths on the roads of the countryside
Nowadays wombats are becoming rare Australia wide
In many parts of the Country where they used to have been
Wombats  nowadays are no longer seen
From the coastal paddocks of south western Victoria inland from the Pacific shore
Wombats have disappeared forever more.

The Ordinary Man

He does remain loyal to his duties in life
And he takes good care of his children and good care of his wife
With his life from attack them he would defend
And to those he does like he is quite a good friend

After work he enjoys a few beers in the local pub
And as a paid up member of the local football club
Every club meeting in the club rooms he does attend
To any organization his sort is a godsend.

His loyalthy as such is never in doubt
And those who refer to his sort as ordinary what are they on about
Since the ordinary are becoming the extraordinary of the Human World of today
As they are no longer that plentiful in truth one can say

On the loyalty of monogamy the ordinary man does believe
And true to his higher self his wife he would never deceive
He may not be religious or ambitious or admirers seek to win
But he is one who has his own god within

Great wealth and celebrity status he never desire
And though he is one so few do wish to admire
Since the life he does live does seem quite ordinary
But the ordinary man is extraordinary to me.

Laughing Willie

People like Willie are a joy for to know
For he is one who has the bright inner glow
Known as Laughing Willie he is everyone's friend
To be other than he is not one to pretend
In his mid fifties he does not have children or a partner or wife
But he is a fellow who does laugh at life
Perhaps the reason he is single is that he does not take life seriously
He always seems happy and of any cares free
The mood is always lighter when Willie is around
His wonderful laughter is such a joyful sound
He never competes for the attention of others or daydreams of renown
Yet he is the happiest person on his side of the town
The town for him living in it a much happier place
He always does have a big smile on his face.

For Everyone

If there is a god this god is for everyone
And not only for the billionaire and the wealthy celebrity and their daughter and son
Between people a true god would not differentiate
In the eyes of a supreme being all good living people are great
If you are a good person and to your higher self live as true
Then you too are godlike since god is in you
One of those wonderful  people compassionate and kind
You are one of those who has your own god of the mind
Since respect to everyone they refuse to pay
From the arrogant and judgmental god lives far away
Every good living person is equal in god's sight
The good living poor person to the  good living billionaire is no lesser light
Yes god is for everyone not for the privileged few
And this is not saying anything that is new.

Sophia

If you look for beauty then beauty you see
At least anyhow this is how it seems to be
For the beauty you see in others is the beauty in you
Since we are what we see in others happens to be true
Sophia a widowed grandmother she is eighty three
All of those who does know of her can only agree
That she never does speak negagtively of anyone
And never seeks any credit for the good things for others she has done
A beautiful person without conceit or guile
She has such great warmth in her wonderful smile
Grey hair to her shoulders for her years attractive and ageing in a graceful way
She is one who performs good deeds every day
The beauty in others that she does see
Is in her own self would you not agree?

They Abused Their Power

They abused their power over the innocents in quite a big way
But they have been caught up with and the price they now pay
For their terrible crimes and the young dreams they have destroyed
And sadly some of their victims have commited suicide
With our sins of the past we all have to live
May the god they believe in for their sins them forgive
Perhaps they too have been victims when young of abuse
Though this for their criminal behaviour cannot be used as an excuse
In life we have our choices of wrong and of right
But as sure as day does follow the night
There is what is known as a reckoning day
When for our sins of the past we eventually pay
Their crimes against the innocents anyone cannot condone
But i must leave it to the one without sin for to cast the verbal stone.

Born Into Life To Write Rhyme

Though some may look on me as a waster of time
I feel i have been born into life to write rhyme
In literature one who will never be to the fore
I just enjoy writing rhymes and every day of them i write more
For writing rhymes i never receive any pay
It is just something i love doing in truth i can say
Just one with rhyming words who does love to play
It is something i hope to be doing on my life's final day
I leave it to others the title of poet
Who of such an honour feel worthy feel worthy of note
Like as is often said it is each to their own
It is only as a rhymer that i will ever be known
I used to love reading rhymes when i was a boy
And writing them nowadays i thoroughly enjoy.

A Territorial Thing

It is true that song among birds is a territorial thing
And most birds are vocal only in early Summer and Spring
When they have a breeding territory to defend
When males of their own kind to them are not a friend
But the Australian magpies are birds that are territorial through the year
Even in the depths of the Winter them one often does hear
Warbling their flute like memorable song
Once seen and once heard you never again get them wrong
In every Australian backyard the black and white magpies are a common sight
And in Spring they are often heard warbling at night
On stick nest lined with grass three brown blotched eggs the female bird lay
Skinks and frogs and small birds and insects are in their source of prey
In their breeding Season they vigorously defend their territory
And they have even been known to attack humans who ventured too close to their nesting tree.

Australia's Kangaroo Road Deaths

To see kangaroos dead on or by the roadways in Australia not an uncommon sight
A lot of them hit and die blinded by car or truck headlights at night
Far more of them die during night than the day
Marsupials do not have good road sense in truth one can say

Though kangaroos are not endangered it is obviously clear
Thousands of them die on the roads every year
From car damage anyone who has hit a kangaroo has a sad financial story to tell
Some drivers after colliding with a big roo in the accident have died as well

Kangaroos are more nocturnal than diurnal most of them rest during the day
For being in an accident with a kangaroo for the driver always some price to pay
On hitting a big roo a driver needs luck to survive
And the car may never again be roadworthy to drive

In Australia there are millions of marsupials but most road kills are of  grey or red  kangaroos
And on such accidents some drivers unfortunately their lives do lose
That in Australia kangaroos are quite plentiful is not a lie
Though on the roadways at night some of them die.

There Will Be Life

There will be life after COVID-19
And grass in the Spring will grow lush and green
And babies will be born and people will die
That life is never ending it is not a lie
The Seasons do come and the Seasons do go
But every human being in time has a common foe
Brief the childhood and teenage years and brief the human physical prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
Many who thought they were unexpendable in cemeteries lay
And there is life in the World without them today
Pandemics have come and pandemics have gone
And people have died but life does go on
And though in COVID-19 many may have died
Life as usual will go on Worldwide.

If Everyone Were Only Like Them

In the helping of others always willingly inclined
And the Human World in need of more of their kind
They are non judgmental and of them one can say
That in the helping of others they often go out of their way
Though never among the admired of the town
They always try to help the mentally and financially down
The people who always sow Karma's good seed
They never ignore those of their help in need
In the twenty first century sadly their sort are rare
The love they have in them with others they do share
For their kindness they never ask for appreciation though such at least should be their due
To their higher selves they remain ever true
Of the good in others they only does see
If everyone were only like them how great this would be.

Old George From Manchester

Old George from Manchester not a fan of Elizabeth the Queen
He says i am not a royalist or never have been
Many times a great grand-dad  divorced from Pauline his wife
He is an octogenarian who makes the most of life
Pauline has remarked she feels happier today
On drinking and gambling George spent the most of his pay
George will drink and gamble on horses until the day he will die
He says if i did tell you any different i would be telling you a lie
George will tell you patriotism is not worth a brag
He says i have never waved a Union Jack flag
His Mancunian accent he does retain
The only part of England that in him does remain
Balding and grey haired yet he seems quite carefree
Old George from Manchester he is eighty three.

The Hereford Bull

His cows all around him on a very nice day
Chewing his cud in the sunshine the hereford bull lay
His herd all by him pregnant for him a restful time of year
And no other bull for him to worry about anywhere near
The farmer feels rather proud of him indeed
Some of his progeny in the show ring have been adjudged best of breed
From prospective buyers big offers he has turned down
Thanks to the progeny of his bull he is no longer a stranger to anyone in the nearby town
That some of his progeny in the show ring have won first prize
Is something the big red white faced bull does not seem to realize
Of nutritious young grass his stomach is full
One can say of him he looks a happy bull
He sits in the sunshine chewing his cud at ease
Bulls unlike us humans are easy to please.

Bring The One Who Is Most Humble

Bring the one who is most humble on stage from the crowd
They have had more of their share of attention the arrogant and proud
She or he deserve their moments in the limelight
That the attention seekers get all of the admiration just does not seem right
That the numbers of narcissistic people are on the rise seems hard to deny
And why they have so many admirers one must wonder why
Are those who are the centre of attention those on the attention of others most in need
One does have to wonder about this indeed
It is true every big ego has it's source on the needs of the i
That the egotistical crave the admiration of others is not a lie
Down to earth is not compatible with celebrity fame
For one of a very swollen ego narcissistic is another name
Do not give all of your admiration to the arrogant, self centred and proud
Bring the one who is most humble up on stage from the crowd.

Them I Can Only Admire

Many believe they will join their loved ones on the day they do die
But then what many believe in to some is a lie
There may not be their god's paradise somewhere beyond the sky
Where good souls post bodily death with wings to does fly
But blessed are those with the faith to believe
That post bodily death the god they believe in their souls into paradise will receive
If their beliefs help them to live as better people they have achieved something great
Since a better Human World to live in they are helping to create
Those who due to their religious beliefs become more loving, compassionate and kind
One can say of them that their god lives in their mind
It is not what you do for yourself  in life but what for others you do
That as a person says all that is to be said of you
If their belief in their god make them better living people them i can only admire
And of singing their praises i never could tire.

Of Nature Every Day

Of Nature we learn something new every day
We never stop learning only true to say
And the more we learn of her the more we come to realize
That of her we know so little this is not a surprise
And learning of Nature such joy to us does bring
There is more to the bird than the song it does sing
There is more to the animal, insect, fish, lizard or amphibian than in them we does see
And there is more to the flower or the bush or the tree
Than our eyes does tell us or of we do know
Our wonderment of Nature it only does grow
With the help of Nature Mother Earth has the power
To give life to a thing of beauty like a flower
Of Nature every day we do learn something new
Her wonders are many and her secrets are not few.

On Rufous Whistlers

A loud clap of thunder in the grey afternoon sky
And a small bird is whistling on a tree nearby
A voice once heard never more to get wrong
Loud noise always inspires the rufous whistler to song
Male rufous whistlers white under throat, bluish grey on back and unders fawnish brown
One often hear them in thunder as the rain pours down
The greyish brown female not as vocal as the male in her breeding Season in an untidy cup of grass lay
Two dotted buff eggs on branch of tree from view in leaves hidden away
It is said rufous whistlers are becoming rarer due to Climate Change
But in their favour in Australia they do have a Nationwide range
And this as a species may help them to survive
In loud traffic noise and thunder song in them comes alive
Birds i have heard and seen though not every day
About them they have quite a distinctive way.

That Life Is

That life is a journey he does not agree
Life is just life is what he said to me
How can life be a journey to one who is wheelchair bound
Without the ability for to walk around
Life is just life this is his point of view
To see life in this way he is not one of a few
We all look at life in our own sort of a way
Each to their own only true for to say
That life is a journey most will tell you
But what is to many to some is not true
Life to him is just life that does have an end
To say otherwise to him would be to pretend
But life is a journey you hear many say
Words often used for to describe life today.

An Old Saying

An old saying that remains relevant would you not agree
What we dislike in others in our own selves we see
As it reminds us of ouir darker side from others hidden away
That others can become our reflective mirrors only true for to say
What you like in others is what you like in you
Since what you like in yourself in them you see too
What we like and dislike in ourselves we see in others every day
That others are our reflective mirrors it does seem this way
Of what we dislike in ourselves from others we try to hide
But in our body language they can see our darker side
It does seem way beyond one like me to explain
That what we like and dislike in others is in ourselves as a truism remain
What you like and dislike in others is what you like and dislike in you
Old wisdom from the past that remains ever true.

Cloghoula In May

A sight of great beauty in memory to stay
The fields of Cloghoula in their wildflowers of May
With the nesting birds singing on bushes and trees
Their music is carrying in the freshening breeze
That has in it's breath the freshness of Spring
Greeness to the old fields May with it does bring
The dark barn swallows aerial speedsters of flight
On pursuit of flying insects quite an amazing sight
And the dark brown water bird of breast white as snow
The dipper is singing where finnow waters flow
From the high country by Gneeves it journeys on down
Through the flatter fields that border Millstreet Town
Earthly Utopia it cannot be too far away
From this place of great beauty Cloghoula in May.

Your Life Is A Story

In book form your story may never be published to sell
But of your life you have a story to tell
Of the challenges you have to face every day
Your life is a story despite what some might say
Why worry of others since you have worries of your own
And of the up and the down times you too have known
Not every day for you is an easy day
And you know about trouble it has come your way
You know how it is to feel dejected and down
And though not among the admired of the town
You are one of those who was born to survive
And hope for the future in you is alive
You too have a story to tell of your life
Of your happy moments and times of inner strife.

They Tell Us

They tell us about things we already know
That in a sandy desert grass does not grow
But for C O V I D-19 a vaccine not yet found
And of the source of it's infections rumours do abound
Those who tell us that many politicians lack in the inner glow
Are telling us something we already know
They tell us that to their god's paradise beyond the sky
Post bodily death good souls to with wings do fly
They feel so sure of this yet death they do fear
That of their beliefs they harbour some doubt does seem obviously clear
They tell us you can be anything you wish to be
And so many with them willing for to agree
And then one must ask who are they anyway
Those who on everything like to have their say?

Kippagh In May

The dark faced lambs on the high fields around their grazing mothers play
And the cattle on lush grass chewing their cuds do lay
The hawthorns are cloaked in their white blossoms of May
And the birds they are singing in Kippagh today

The song of the cuckoo so pleasant to hear
In May in Ireland a beautiful time of the year
Dark barn swallows the nomadic speedsters of the sky
On pursuit of  flying insects chirping as they fly

Home in Kippagh for their breeding stay
In mid Fall to warmer southern climates they will wing their way
That wild creatures are attuned to Nature is obviously clear
Their natural instincts do tell them when Winter is near

Something that one does come to realize
That is is not a hard thing for to visualize
It is a fact of our existence and fact never lie
That beauty we have known of  lives in us until we die

In her nest of sticks on her green blotched  eggs a grey crow
Sits high on a tree near where the stream from Kippagh Lake does flow
That in Ballydaly grow to a larger waterway
In the greeness of Spring in Kippagh in May.

Those Who Have Love In Them

A World without love who could wish to live in
Since only from love happiness can begin
Those without love in them have no joy for to share
And sad to think their sort as ever not rare
You will not find love where anger and violence does dwell
In war zones where poor and innocent people live in Earthly Hell
Or in the controlling man quite angry in life
Who abuses his children and bashes his wife
In the kind and the gentle love is to be  found
And the joy that is in them they share it around
Those who have love in them perform good deeds every day
And help those in need of helping without expecting the rewards of pay
Those who have love in them have a great gift indeed
And of more of their sort the Human World is in need.

Dinjoe

Dinjoe crashed his uncle's tractor against a wall when learning to drive
But fortunately the tractor and the wall and Dinjoe did survive
And he was lucky not to be injured in any sort of a way
This is something in his past he can laugh at today

Dinjoe as a teenager on the side of wild
One cannot say of him that he was a spoilt child
And one cannot say in him there was anything bad
Though he did cause some worries to his mum and dad

Dinjoe the good and not so good days of life he has known
His children into young adults have grown
He is in his fifth decade well past his life's prime
But he is one who does not seem to have aged in time

As a fisherman in Dutch Harbor in Alaska one of the coldest parts of the U S of A
Dinjoe he does work hard for his every pay
He lives the lifestyle he daydreamed of when he was a boy
The tough ways of the seafarer he does enjoy

One of  life's great survivors of him one can say
As a young man from his homeplace he travelled far away
As a seafarer in the Land of  the polar bear
The Dinjoe's of the World are becoming rare.

The Merri

In the flat lands near Warrnambool dark, deep and slow
The old Merri River does silently flow
On it's way to Middle Island to the Pacific shore
Where it has flowed forever and will forever more
The Merri was old when the first people to the coastal countryside now known as south west victoria came
A timeless waterway without a name
Perhaps it has been flowing since time began
Thousands of centuries before the birth of the first woman and  man
My wonderment of Nature's ways only does grow
How it came by it's name of the Merri is something i do not know
In full flood it is quite a sight to behold
And in the age of the dinosaurs it was very old
It has inspired the writers of story and rhyme
The old Merri that has flowed through the centuries of time.

A Migrant In This Place

A migrant in this place by the southern sea
Is all that i ever can hope for to be
Far north as the migratory bird flies daylight i first see
And having said this the true Australian is far darker than me
Many fair skinned people are Australian born in case you get me wrong
And though Australian born their genetic links to Australia are not as strong
As Australia's first people whose ancestors have lived in Australia for thousands of  centuries
The true history of Australia is a black history
In the place i came from to many i would be a stranger today
Though we are who we think we are many does say
Many feel truly Australian though born in a far Country
It is each to their own thinking one has to agree
I can understand when you are not Australian some to me does say
Since the accent i speak in comes from far away.

Or Is This Just A Memory

On Summer evenings in Coolikerane Bog  do young men football play
Or is this now just a memory of a bygone day?
Of the young men of the early eighties time has become their foe
And this now does seem quite a long time ago
In the online age of the early twenty first century times have changed quite a lot
But the young men who played football in Coolikerane Bog would not have forgot
The good fun they had then in their physical prime
Before they were slowed by the Seasons of time
Back then they looked forward to every bog game
But nothing in life as it was stays the same
Time ticks along quickly and young men grow old
And memories of the past today in stories told
In Coolikerane Bog on Summer evenings do young men play football
Or is this just a memory of what was to recall?

Maxine Golding Clarke

In human achievements one who made her mark
The Warrnambool octogenarian Maxine Golding Clarke
So kind and caring in her own sweet way
So sad to learn she has lived her life's final day

One grieved by her many friends and family
But in those who knew her she will not fade from memory
On her eighty sixth year she breathed her last
One who was a good friend to many in the past

Quite an attrcative looking woman and it is said going back in time
She was one of Warrnambool's fairest in her prime
One who never turned her back on anyone of help in need
She was a kind and loving person indeed

One who did have the bright inner glow
Her sort a privilege of for to know
Always with a big smile on her beautiful face
Warrnambool for her passing a far poorer place

Maxine has lived her last night and day
And with the deceased of Warrnambool her last remains lay
In the flesh from the World she may have gone
But in all who knew her good memories of her will live on.

Your Own Earthly Utopia

The people who have gone through life without knowing of some sorrow are rare
So many have had some cross for to bear
There are happy times and times when you feel sad
Suppose in life we must take the good with the bad
Perhaps laughter and tears are part of natural law
On this your own conclusion you have to draw
Utopia on Planet Earth may never be
Eternal happiness is not meant for humanity
Anybody who lives a reasonably happy life should feel rather privileged indeed
In a World where the things some take for granted many must live of in need
True happiness is a thing one can only hope to achieve
But in life if you can learn how to give then you can expect to receive
And if you can help somebody without expecting reward for your good deed
Then for your own Earthly Utopia you are planting the seed.

On The Passing Of John Barry

Sad news out of Millstreet online to read of today
John Barry of Lackabawn from life has passed away
A founder member of Barry's vintage car and tractor business with his son Dan
John was such a kind and a gentle and a likeable man

One devoted to his family and his wife his lifetime soulmate Ann
Of the Millstreet Athletic Club he was a loyal fan
Always at cross country meetings in Liscahane urging the  Millstreet athletes on
The memories remain of the Seasons long gone

In his prime years a tall and handsome fellow and  gentle in his way
Always quietly spoken with never too much to say
So down to earth and such a nice person to meet
He will be sadly missed in the Town of Millstreet

A fact of our human existence and fact never lie
Is we are all born into life to eventually die
But for to live as a good person one can only do their best
And with honours John Barry was one who did pass this test

In his lifetime John Barry made many a friend
And one can only hope that he had a painless end
Though physically in life well past his better years
He was one well worthy of life's farewell tears.

On The Irish Potato Famine

In the mid nineteenth century in Ireland much of the population of malnutrition died
Due to the failure of the potato crop that was Nationwide
Where in a short space of time it has been recorded that a million malnourished people or more
On what became known as Coffin Ships migrated from the Homeland shore
The name Coffin Ships came from the factual story that many of the malnourished migrants died on the way
To their destinations in Europe and the U  S  of  A
Their remains thrown overboard on the Atlantic sea bed lay
They are just statistics of the millions who have died in famines Worldwide today
Circumstance of birth on our life's destiny a huge part does play
Anybody does not deserve for to die on such a painful way
It is sad to think that the lives of many good people not seen as important overall
The names of victims of famine never appear on a memorial wall
It was due  to the failure of the potato crop in Ireland in the mid nineteenth century
That many poor people of malnutrition died slowly and painfully.

He Seems Rather Shy

Though he is quite intelligent one must wonder why
When it comes to socializing he seems rather shy
At social gatherings among people he does not know well he seems stuck for something to say
He sits there and listens whilst they gabble away
About themselves and their families and their lives every day
In their conversations he feels he has no part to play
One who does not yearn for public esteem
It does take all sorts is how it does seem
Sameness can become boring for want to it of a better name
And how boring we wouild be if we all were the same
In our thinking and interests we would seem boring indeed
It is people with different interests from most others humanity of more is in need
The life of any party he never may be
But this does not make him any lesser would you not agree?

Your Past Does Go Too

Wherever you go to your past does go too
Your good and your bad memories live on in you
Many people have memories that they would prefer to forget
Some memories in their lives they remember with regret
Our past we can only learn from but cannot change
That many of us regret past mistakes does not even seem strange
The most perfect of people have some human flaw
For to be prone to error is part of natural law
A lot of good people on my travels i have met
But the perfect person has not been born as of yet
Why some people who regret past mistakes does repeat them again
Is something that is way beyond me to explain
Wherever we go to our past with us goes along
It lives in our memory like the words of an unforgettable song.

They Do Their Own Thing

To their materially successful families joy they never does bring

The young females and males who do their own thing

To their snobbish mums and dads they do not bring any joy

The reason they do not talk to their snobbish friends of their wayward girl or boy

Those who do their own thing do not go to university

They have no ambition to study for a uni degree

In the Human World they will never play a leading role

In between casual jobs they do live on the dole

They socialize with their like minded friends in the local pub

And enjoy free sexual pleasure at the swingers club

Spend some of their leisure hours drinking alcohol, watching  t v  and smoking wizzy weed

To be looked on as successful in life they do not feel the need

Their names will never appear on a memorial wall

Yet they do not seem to have any worries at all.

May In Lisnaboy

Old memories live on as a mental source of joy
The greeness of Spring in May in Lisnaboy
The cattle on nutritious young grass gaining weight by the day
And the hawthorn cloaked in their white blossoms of May
And above the green fields dark winged migrants of the sky
Barn swallows in pursuit of flying insects do fly
And in the calm of the evening  on a tree to where i stand near
The voice of the cuckoo so pleasant to hear
The weather is pleasant close to twenty degrees
And the nesting birds singing on the bushes and trees
In the prime of their breeding Season their singing time of  the year
In May to Lisnaboy Earthly Utopia is near
Such beautiful memories a lifetime to retain
In times of nostalgia for to visit again.

The Reformed One

He is one who in the past has lived quite rough
Just one many did look on as not good enough
For usage of narcotics he spent time in jail
The judgmental had him down as one to fail
But he is one who is mentally quite strong
And sometimes the doubters can be proven wrong
With a beautiful wife and two lovely young daughters today
As a self employed plumber he earns a good pay
For his addiction to narcotics that led him to minor crime
In the State prison he served ten months of jail time
But he now lives as an honourable fellow and in truth one can say
He is just one of those for awhile who in life lost his way
Nowadays a success story of his side of the town
To his good family's name he was once a let down.

On Eagle Owls

Eagle owls the largest nocturnal birds of prey in the World are becoming rare
Of which those into the preservation of wildlife are becoming all too aware
The World's largest owl by day hidden from sight
By some other nocturnal creatures the most feared bird of the night
Two to four large eggs of pale white to grey
Under ground cover or on a rock ledge the female owl lay
In their range in parts of Africa and Asia and Europe in the Spring of the year
The night-time cry of the hunting eagle owls instil in small creatures fear
But due to shooting and destruction of their habitat by humans and Climate Change
Eagle owls have become quite rare in their range
Due to human greed vast areas of natural habitat every year being destroyed
And many species of wildlife are becoming rare Worldwide
And one of those is the eagle owl in their range the largest nocturnal predator of flight
And by small creatures by far the most feared avian hunter of the night.

How Can You Respect

How can you respect those who do not respect you
Who do not give you the human respect you are due
Their sort are not rare in the Human World of today
And they are not nice people in truth one can say
Conceit and arrogance are closely allied
And they both do give rise to an extreme sense of pride
They are a combination that give rise to feelings of superiority
And as such are not an asset to humanity
How can you respect one who feels better than you in every way
Any respect to her or to him you ought not to pay
Rank and class distinction they only help to uphold
Their sort never grow wiser they only grow old
How can you respect one who on you looks down
And treats you as an inferior being of the town.

I Know Little About Nature

I know little about Nature though from her i learn every day
That we never do stop learning is only true to say
But the more that we do learn the more we come to realize
That we are far from clever which to self doubt gives rise
Those who think that they know everything of more knowledge not in need
In this respect they are lucky so lucky indeed
But one can say on their behalf that innocence is bliss
And what we do not know of we are not going to miss
Every day in Nature there is beauty for to see
A rare unrivalled beauty that to view is always free
My sheer wonderment of her does only seem to grow
Yet so little about her i can claim of to know
We never does stop learning until the day we die
Those who will tell you differently believe their own lie.

The Iron Man Of Koroit

He has lived for many Seasons of years eleven with three score and ten
The Iron Man of Koroit is a man among men
One who does not seek attention his ego from public view hidden away
But actions speaks louder than words as the wise are known to say

He has a heart pacemaker and cancer he did survive
But of dying he has no notion he feels very much alive
Than many half of his age far fitter believe this if you may
That a fifty kilometre cycle to him is not a hard day

For octogenarian Australians he is one who carries the flag
But Rob Stewart is a down to earth bloke you never hear him brag
Than him i am years younger but he would street me in a race
Not one near his age in Koroit with him who could hope to keep pace

He once invited me to go for a cycle with him but of course i turned him down
How could i hope to keep up with the Iron Man of Koroit Town
At the thought of cycling fifty kilometres i even does feel tired
Even by such a mighty man as he is to extend myself i cannot feel inspired

For you sporting greats of Koroit here's a man for you to admire
Go for a pedal with Rob Stewart for hard training he will quench your desire
And i can guarantee you that you will not beat him home
For he is to Koroit Town what Caesar was to Rome.

An Antidote To Sadness

He loves his childreen and he loves his wife
And he is one who has laughter in his life
His recipe for happiness is a good laugh every day
He is loved by many for his cheerful way
If you are in need of help he will help you
And he feels rather happy to have a job to go to
He will tell you how very lucky he has been
For himself and his wife and children to be healthy and happy in these times of  COVID-19
He is one of those people many do wish of to know
Since he has been blessed with the bright inner glow
The one who has laughter has joy for to share
But sadly in the World of  today their sort are quite rare
That laughter is an antidote to sadness seems hard to deny
And those who do have it their friends in numbers multiply.

His Positive Attitude

He has known how it feels like to be hungry and he has often slept rough
But he never gave up on hope when times on him were tough
A child of abusive parents and a street boy of fourteen
The tougher sides of life he is one who has seen
On the poor side of the town where only the fittest survive
As a boy he had to steal food just to stay alive
But of better days he did live in hope
And in times of adversity he managed to cope
With his terrible existence for one so young
On the side of the town lived in by the unsung
With a full time job and a beautiful young wife and baby daughter at the age of twenty three
He is one of the few who has risen above poverty
In his teenage years he lived life in the hard way
His positive attitude for him did pay.

It Does Not Matter To The Dead

Eventually the materially wealthy and famous reach their last night and day
And a marble headstone with their image on it may mark the spot where they lay
But they will not be any better than the poor who have died without any headstone to mark their final resting spot
As it does not matter to the dead if they are remembered or forgot
Our ego with us it too dies in the grave
And it does not matter if you will die as a traitor or if you die brave
And it does not matter if you are one of great wealth and fame
The Reaper of lives treats everyone as the same
Between us there is inequality why otherwise pretend
But death makes us all equal in the end
And whether you are buried or cremated it will not matter to you any way
Though death brings with it equality despite what some might say
And to the dead it does not matter if they are remembered or not
And if there is or is not a headstone to mark their resting spot.

A Fact Of Our Existence

A fact of our existence and fact never lie
Is that we are born into life helpless and as helpless we will die
That there are none of us perfect only true to say
The perfect human being is not living today
Some are more flawed than others is how it seems to be
To be flawed is to be human would you not agree
Though aggression towards each other they often does show
Animals and birds than us nearer to perfect since of imperfection they do not know
In the killiing of their own kind they cannot see any wrong
The feeling of guilt at our actions to us humans only belong
We have this need in us others to impress
And we crave their admiration in our material success
But a fact of our existence and fact never lie
Is that we are born helpless and as helpless we will die.

Hal Roach

Today his jokes and stories on tape by his fans enjoyed
In his lifetime Hal Roach was known and famed Worldwide
His earthy Irish humor did win him many a fan
In his time one of the World's great comedians he was a humorous man
One who gave rise to laughter a marvellous gift indeed
For a happier World to live in he helped to sow the seed
Those who cannot laugh at a Hal Roach joke take themselves too seriously
They are bereft of laughter is how it seems to be
To tell a funny joke or a humorous story in a class of his own
Even though in time long deceased his fans in numbers have grown
In his every live performance he had his audience laughing loud
In his jokes he never used a swear word yet he brought laughter to the crowd
His marvellous gift of humor with others he did share
As an all time great stand up comedian with the best he does compare.

When The Rains Of Spring

When the rains of Spring on the Boggeraghs melt the snow
Some of Duhallow flooded from the Blackwater overflow
Kilometres of countryside covered in flood waters such a sight to see
And something for to live on in the memory

The fields by the Blackwater River covered in flood waters of brown
Where the big waterway rages on it's way towards Mallow Town
From it's birthplace in Sliabh Luachra on towards Youghal to the Atlantic shore
On a journey of eighty kilometres or more

The most of the waterways in Sliabh Luachra and Duhallow and north Cork into the Blackwater flow
And swollen by heavy rain the big river into a huge waterway does grow
A memorable sight in the memory a lifetime to remain
One of Munster's biggest rivers swollen by heavy rain

When the rains of  Spring melt the snow on the the Boggeragh's hills
The lesser waterways of the high country the flooded streams and rills
Flow to the rivers that flow to the Blackwater on the flatter ground
The fields  by the big river are flooded for kilometres around.

In Claraghatlea By Millstreet Town

In Claraghatlea by Millstreet Town my journey in life began
And there i lived as a boy and grew into a man
But there i may not live my last night and day
Since from the shores of Hibernia i am ageing far away
It has been thirty four years since the Boggeraghs i last see
And time that ages everything has left it's mark on me
And all we have are memories of the what used to be
We would not even have a past without our gift of memory
I secretly do envy those who have a sense of place
They never wish to venture far from where their's is a known face
They will never know of nostalgia as many migrants do
If you are one of their sort i can only envy you
Such a nice thought the memory of the soft lowing of a cow
In the calm of a Summer twilight by the river of  Finnow.

Happy To Have Found Love Again

He loved her as a good husband should love his wife
But when she took their five years old daughter and left him for another he felt like giving up on life
For a while he felt suicidal but time has healed his woe
And many Seasons since then this was ten years ago
Nowadays he has a partner who loves him a mother to their year old son
He feels so very happy to have found love with a beautiful one
When a door closes another opens life works in this way
He goes to work happy every week day
A woman who loves him the mother of his beautiful boy
True love is a feeling that can give rise to joy
Ten years ago he was one of the sad people of the town
Missing his ex wife and daughter and feeling mentally down
He feels so very happy to have found love again
That time can be a great healer as a fact does remain.

Rats, Rabbits And Mice

The females give birth to many offsprings and their numbers multiply
That they are Nature's survivors none ought to deny
They are Nature's survivors thanks to their prolific breeding and sexual drive
Despite trapping and diseases and poisoning as species they survive

Rats, rabbits and mice to humanity are a pest
And to rid the World of them many have tried their best
And though trapping and baiting on their numbers take toll
For to rid the World of them is beyond human control

To humanity they never do bring any joy
So much food and cash crops every year they destroy
You will not hear many people say anything that is nice
About the creatures they cannot love rats, rabbits and mice

Though for their destroying of crops and food humans them cannot forgive
Rats, rabbits and mice the last human being may well outlive
Their secrets of survival they are prolific breeders and in large numbers multiply
And humans will never rid the World of them though hard they do try.

Though Fond Memories Of Them

Though fond memories of them i do retain
Most of my friends in Duhallow i will not see again
Some of them like me from their first homes ageing far away
And some of them at peace forever does lay
Our biological clocks ever keep ticking fast
Our memory is our only link to the past
Those i went to school with are ageing today
And our biological clock ever ticking away
With them i socialized but that was long ago
We went our own ways in life and time became our foe
Though they remain young in my memory i have not seen them for years
And for what used to be i have shed my last tears
We can only live in the now as the wise does say
And the past is a memory and the now is today.

Many Believe In

Many believe in a heavenly paradise of their god in the sky
Where good souls with wings post bodily death to does fly
To live happy forever with other good souls in harmony
And of their earthly cares be eternally free
They believe in a life after bodily death that good things for them await
I can only envy them for their gift of faith
But since the Doubting Thomas is living in me
I can only believe in what my eyes does see
Any deceased person i have known have not come back to me to tell
Of a celestial paradise or of a satan's hell
I often do wonder what life is about
And of a life for the soul post bodily death i do live in doubt
As is said the weed to one is another's rose
We live by our own thoughts one has to suppose.

It Is The Sort Of World

It is the sort of World we live in today
That those with the most money have most of the say
And those into self promotion in a big way
Are proving to many that narcissism can pay
To the twenty first century humility does not belong
In one who is humble many see something wrong
We are in the age when those who are humble few seem to admire
And just to be like them fewer even desire
The look at me people are no longer rare
In promotion of self no effort they spare
But as the sages of old in their wisdom did say
From their higher selves the egotistical are the furthest away
It is not a nice World for to live in
Where the humble are those who cannot seem to win.

The Former Champion

It is obvious that time it has become his foe
The one admired by many in the long ago
In his prime the champion athlete of the town
His fame it transcended local renown

Three times the National fifteen hundred metres champion athlete
In his prime he was one who was quick on his feet
But a stroke in his late sixties has left him walking slow
Of happier and far better times he did know

A great grandfather in his late seventies divorced from his wife
Nowadays she has a younger man in her life
With reluctance he talks of the fame he has known
In his late seventies he lives on his own

If you inspire him to talk of the past
He says does it matter now if he once could run fast
If in victory he did feel happy and proud
When he was applauded by the adoring crowd

Stooped balding and grey haired not the man he used to be
In the park he is one that i sometimes does see
Walking slowly with the aid of a walking cane
That time slows the fastest and fittest the fact does remain.

Sameness

How boring we would be if in our ways we were mostly the same
And in our difference in thinking few things for to name
Sameness can become boring would you not agree
Through different eyes difference we can see
It is something that ought to be worthy of note
That if  for the same political party we all and always did vote
That sameness is not always good should not be hard to explain
You may say that some for their thinking in their ways can be strange
But it is only those different who for the better can instigate change
One can only quote here words from the wise
That saameness to difference cannot hope to give rise
Sameness is not endangered in any sort of a way
We need more of those different in their ways of thinking in the Human World of today.

John Joe O' Shea

From Cockhill in Millstreet where he first saw light of day
To Macreddin Cemetery in Aughrim a long stretch of roadway
Where his last remains forever does lay
Life's journey has ended for John Joe O' Shea

Grieved by his wife and family and friends the honourable man
Far from the fields of his boyhood he lived out his life span
In his journey in life many friends by him won
His late mum and dad in him raised a good son

One of many in Duhallow who did not remain
In him a huge loss to Millstreet became Aughrim's gain
He did go through life without harming anyone
And he will be remembered for the good things for others that he done

In Irish sporting circles the O' Sheas of Cockhill as a family are well known
And the people of Millstreet are proud to claim them for their own
John Joe was a patron of the G A A
And in the promotion of Ireland's National games a big part did play

One who to his duties in life remained ever true
John Joe lived as a good person for to give him his due
In Macreddin Cemetery far from his first home in Cockhill he now rests in peace
From life for us all there is a final release.

Lucky The People

Lucky the people with real love of the mind
They are the Human World's compassionate and kind
They help people in need of help without the rewards of pay
And perform a good deed or two every day
With others some of the love in them they does share
And for those doing it tough they do genuinely care
They never shun the financially down
Yet they are the unsung of every town
In famine areas and war zones and refugee camps from their homes far away
They do perform their good deeds every day
Though joy to the financially down they always bring
Of their praises only a few bother to sing
For themselves every day they sow Karma's good seed
And of more of their sort the Human World is in need.

When I Told Them

When i told them of the Claramore Rill
Whose silver tongue is never still
They looked at me in a strange way
Saying what are you on about anyway

When i told them of Miracles at Tubrid Well
They said such tall stories you do tell
You must believe your own lies indeed
Or else you are one who does smoke wizzy weed

When i told them of the Paps of Shrone
And Gortavehy with the face of stone
They said to me do you realize
That we do know you tell a few lies

When i told them of  The Allow  in flood waters of brown
Flowing bank high in old Kanturk Town
They said we are not are not easy for to deceive
And your stories seem hard to believe

But now when we happen to meet
With them i am far more discreet
And since i feel for me it is better this way
To them i have little to say.

As Mick Cooley Did Say

It does seem that time is catching up on me
I struggle to urinate after drinking coffee
Old age can be a punishment as Mick Cooley did say
An aged publican who lived in Millstreet Town from here far away

He used to say Millstreet is not an Earthly Paradise but seek the one that is to come
Though his home spun wisdom it was lost on some
Where some of the Millstreet dead are he now has his own plot
But by those who did know him he has not been forgot

Born as Michael Sullivan Cooley the family nickname
But Mick Sullivan and Mick Cooley were one of the same
One of the most likeable characters in old Millstreet Town
His wisdom and wit earned him local renown

Mick Cooley lived in Millstreet Town all of his life
He never had children or never had a wife
His pub now known as The Mal Paso is owned by his nephew Brian today
The licensed premises on the Main Street in the Sullivan family name stay

When i feel discomfort in urinating after drinking coffee
The words of Mick Cooley does come back to me
Old age can be a punishment he used to say
He was a wise old fellow in his own way.

Just Another Written Anti War Rant

It is out of war leaders and soldiers many heroes are made
And more to be young heroes to the war cause are enlisted in every street war parade
Many impressionable young minds look on war as a good thing
And the praises of their war heroes feel so proud to sing

Why don't those war loving people and politicians leave their dead heroes to rest in peace
From war and it's suffering they have found their release
By their so called patriotic political leaders they were misled
They fought for a flag and they ended up dead

I know a good and peaceful man as a war protester he has been in jail
Though now in his eighties to attend any local anti war rally he never does fail
Though a good and an honourable man his name will never appear on a memorial wall
Is our thinking on war in need of a good overhaul?

In impressionable young minds hatred is not hard to instil
Young men go to war for their Country to kill
But those who to them are the enemy think of them in the same way
This is why so many heroes in cemeteries lay

That war leads to peace is based on a lie
In a World where many anti war people as traitors do die
You may say that my views on this does have their own slant
And dismiss it as just another written anti war rant.

Those Who Have Life In Them

Life is the greatest gift anyone does possess
Greater than any other form of success
You may be poor,  hungry and homeless today
But in the future your luck may change for the better in quite a big way
Life is all that does matter there is no joy in death
Leave it to the life's reaper to claim from you the living breath
Times may be tough and hopes for better from you has gone
But things can only get better so keep living on
You may have great worries and be burdened by inner strife
But all is not lost whilst in you there is life
The town's former wealthiest person far worse off than you are today
Now only equal to the deceased former poor in the local cemetery lay
You may be quite poor and with your problems struggling to cope
But those who have life in them are not without any hope.

The God I Believe In

The beauty she gives birth to everyday i does see
The god i believe in happens to be a she
Though with such thinking i feel sure many would not agree
Nature she will always be god to me

Many have their invisible god in his kingdom in the sky
Where post bodily death good souls to with wings does fly
Their devotion to their chosen god in public by them shown
But on this one must say it is each to their own

When you ask me am i atheist to you i say no
Since i too have a god happens for to be so
The god i believe in gives birth to the beauty i see every day
Though to her i never do kneel for to pray

Nature and Mother Earth are the World's number one super power
From a tiny seed they create a beautiful flower
And Nature who lives on the Earth and the sky
Is never invisble to the human eye

The god i believe in not in the clouds hidden away
Her beauty i see around me very day
And my wonderment of her it only does grow
She is the only god of that i do know.

Let The One Without Any Flaw

In a Human World where many feel conceited and proud
Let the one without any flaw come up from the crowd
But to this it is clear none a hand does raise
This is something that anyone should not amaze
Yes this is something that should not be hard to understand
In a Human World where the most flawed the most power does command
Of the praises of humility you will not hear many sing
In an age when promotion of self is an in thing
At social gatherings where even the like minded meet
So many for attention with each other compete
Some more flawed than others only true to say
But then suppose humanity does work in this  way
The self effacing person anyone does not admire
And to be like her or him none feel any desire.

An Incurable Romantic

Though no woman did lay claim to him as her man
He remains an incurable romantic the ageing grey haired Dan
Though he has had many lovers in his long life
He never has asked any woman for to become his wife
Had he proposed marriage to some of his ex lovers they would have said yes
But marriage he realized with him would not be a success
Since he was always falling in love with somebody new
And of love affairs in his life he has had more than a few
Since a workplace accident in his mid fifties he spends his days in a wheelchair
Though you never hear him say that life is unfair
In his early seventies growing old on his own
Of far better days of in life he has known
Since his accident he is unable to have sex which does pain him to say
But as the incurable romantic he does fall in love every day.

A Young Warrnambool Rose

She even looks attractive in casual clothes
Of Warrnambool City a blossoming rose
Dark wavy hair to her shoulders and lovely brown eyes
For one in her twenties so humble and wise
One a young man would look at more than twice
Yet for one of such visual beauty down to earth and nice
Though beautiful young women in Warrnambool are never rare
With the finest of them in beauty she does compare
And with a beautiful smile quite a pleasure to meet
She even says hello to strangers she pass on the street
Her sort of young person in large numbers do not abound
She carries joy with her and shares it around
Even without makeup and wearing casual clothes
She does look the part of a young Warrnambool rose.

Illowa On An April Night

Out there in the paddock in the calm of the night
A dog fox is barking in the moonlight
Perhaps hoping than a female in heat of his kind would be near
And the need in his cries for sexual passion that she will hear
Of the scarcity of females of his kind he is aware
From poisoning and shooting foxes in this part of the countryside rare
In a voice quite distinctive that never sounds shrill
A boobook owl is calling in nearby Tower Hill
In Illowa on an Autumn night nocturnal creatures out and about
In their voices of their presence they leave none in doubt
A creature in daylight one never hear or see
The harsh cries of a male possum on a moonlit gum tree
In Illowa in April on a calm Autumn night
Nature's nocturnal creatures are vocal under the moonlight.

All That I Can Wish To Be

Since i left Claraghatlea close to Millstreet Town
The roadways of life i have been up and down
A bit of the World out there i have seen
Though many to far more Lands than i have been to have been

Far south of the fields in view of Clara's Hill
Like it does for everyone time for me does not stand still
Our biological clocks ever ticking away
Each dawn brings us closer to our final day

That we learn as we live happens for to be true
A wise person first said this for to give them their due
Life's lessons for us are not of  the few
And every day to learn for us something new

Far south of where i went to primary school
In coastal Illowa not that far from Warrnambool
A bird whose kind i often do hear and do see
A magpie is warbling  on a sunlit gum tree

Where the journey in life for me began
Today to many there i would be an ageing foreign man
And in Illowa where time leaves it's mark on me
A migrant is all that i can wish to be.

Florrie Forde

In the late nineteenth and early twentieth century in the London music halls by the fans one adored
The woman born in Fitzroy Victoria Australia the one and only Florries Forde
Her name lives today as a vaudeville queen of song
In the war years for the troops she led many a spirit raising sing along
In her time as one who rendered the old music hall ballads she led the way
The songs she helped to popularize with her voice are on youtube today
A big yet attractive looking woman with a wonderful voice
In her time in Britain by many she was the entertainer of choice
One of the darlings of the music hall ballads many decades ago
But sadly of such entertainmment time has become the foe
In April nineteen forty on her sixty fourth birthday the music hall queen
Of a cerebral haemmorhage she collapsed and died whilst singing for the troops in Scotland in Aberdeen
In Streatham Cemetery in London her last remains lay
And on you tube her amazing voice it is living today.

The Rogue Of The Town

For sowing the seeds of bad karma you will receive your due
In life we reap what we sow happens for to be true
And if you live as a good person one can only believe
Good things in the future you can expect to receive
A financially poor man today the rogue of the town
He reached the financial top and as quickly slid down
Out of their life savings he has swindled a few
That there are many like he is not anything that is new
For him as for many others crime did not pay
He has plenty of time to reflect on his wrongdoing in prison today
Those because of him poorer must suffer their loss
He has left them in life with a financial cross
That kindness begets kindness as a truism remain
The meaning in this it's own self does explain.

Grey Currawong

Crow sized birds with strong thick bills of a darkish grey
Quite different to most birds in their secretive way
Quite wary if of a human they do catch sight
They are quick to disappear from view when taking to flight
Once seen and once heard one cannot get them wrong
They have a pleasant enough metallic sort of song
To the strepera family of birds they do belong
And their common name for them is grey currawong
On flat nest of sticks high on branch of tree
The female lay buff blotched eggs of  two sometimes three
They kill and eat small birds and on large insects prey
Unlike their cousins pied they do not live in large flocks and are not numerous in any way
Known by their appearance and their clinking song
Once seen and once heard you never again get them wrong.

The Lot Of The Migrant

He went to see life in the big World out there
And he is growing old as a man from elsewhere
The lot of an ageing migrant one might say
There are many like him in the World of today
Though of English he does have a reasonable command
His accent some do find hard to understand
Growing old in a big town in the coastal countryside
The man from the north who has travelled far and wide
Though he has had many women in his life
He has never had children or he has never had a wife
He would be a stranger today in the far away town
Where he used to live when his hair was light brown
And a foreigner in this Land he only can be
The lot of the migrant would you not agree?

The Birds Of Three Names

Known as magpie larks or mudlarks though many call them peewee
Due to their song which sounds like peewee which they repeat regularly
Familiar to most people as they are seen and heard every day
And near where humans live they seem happy to stay
Dainty black and white birds a bit larger than a blackbird with ways of their own
Of the birds of Australia among the better known
In a cup shaped nest of mud high on branch of tree
The female lay white pink spotted eggs of five, four or three
They live on small insects that they find on the ground
And often sing out peewee whilst walking around
Mental pictures of them are not hard to retain
Once seen and once heard you will know them again
Often seen in the countryside and every town park
The birds known as mudlark or peewee as well as magpie lark.

No Shortage Of Good People

No shortage of good people in the Human World of today
Far more good than bad in truth one can say
It is only a minority who leave humanity down
And sadly their sort Worldwide are in every town
By at least two hundred to one the good outnumber the bad
And for this alone one ought to feel glad
If the bad outnumbered the good for negativity this would be a huge win
And it would be a hellish World for to live in
Thanks be to for those of the bright inner glow
Their sort they are always a pleasure of  for to know
To help other people they go out of their way
And perform at least one good deed every day
It is good to realize the good outnumber the bad
For some of our small blessings we ought to feel glad.

Those Lacking In Money

Those lacking in money are lacking in power
The weed of the garden cannot be a flower
Humans beings like the flora too seen in this way
The poor are the ignored of the Human World of today

This COV I D-19 we read of and hear so much about
That to human populations it can be quite lethal does go without doubt
It is said from a bat to humans it has spread
And many who have contracted it are already dead

The lives lost to COVID-19 are worthy of  lament
But it is only in wealthy Countries that money to fight it in large amounts is spent
The theory that all people are equal is based on a lie
In pandemics it is mostly the poor who will die

In East Africa the damage to crops by plague locusts will come at a huge cost
Far more lives there than to COVID-19 to malnutrition will be lost
They are poor and seen as the weeds of the garden so they cannot be flowers
But the blood in their veins it does flow red like ours

This put things in perspective would you not agree
We are lucky to be living in this wealthy Country
Though it is true that the weed of the garden cannot be a flower
And those who have money are those who have power.

A Sight Of Great Beauty

A sight of great beauty in Nature to see
A koala eating leaves on a manna gum tree
Or on a high branch having it's daily sleep
They do not have any appointments to keep
Koala numbers on the decrease in the Australia of today
On the ground slow moving so many of them die on the roadway
And in bushfires every year many of them die
That they are becoming endangered is sadly not a lie
Koalas are beautiful creatures indeed
And for their survival as a species of more human friends they are in need
Of small eyes, dark button type nose and coat of furry grey
They are fair dinkum Aussies of them one can say
And Australia it surely much poorer would be
Without a koala sleeping or eating leaves on a manna gum tree.

A Locust Plague In East Africa

A locust plague in East Africa where millions of acres of food crops by the flying insects are eaten and destroyed
Can cause the deaths of millions of people where many of malnutrition already have died
This is not a news story that has gone Worldwide
By news on the C O V  I  D-19 virus the news on the East Africa desert locust plague has been pushed to the side
Could it be that Human lives in East Africa are not seen to be equal to human lives in other Countries
But then as is said of racism it can come of varying degrees
On the desert locust plague in East Africa some environmental scientists on human induced Climate change put the blame
Our abuse of the Earth Mother who feeds us is to all of our shame
Far more people will die due to the East African locust plague than of  C O V  I  D-19
Where flying locusts have been through only dry earth not one sign of green
In East Africa due to the desert locust plague millions of people of malnutrition may die
Those decent egalatarian people who believe all people are equal sadly believe in a lie
For our abuse of the Earth Mother who feeds us the price may be huge for to pay
In East Africa due to a locust plague millions of people are dying of malnutrition today.

Not All Of The Dead

If the dead could talk many of them would not wish to come back for to live in this World again
Where somebody's loss becomes another's gain
Where so many compete for this thing known as success
And so few do age without knowing of happiness
There is a good reason for the saying of may she or he rest in peace
From all of their life's cares they have found a release
Some do go through life without ever having enough food for to eat
An apple to them would be a tasty treat
If the dead could speak some of them would say
We do not wish to return to life leave us be go away
In their dark graves content for to lay
Hidden from life and the bright lamp of day
Not all of the dead would like to live again
In a World where somebody's loss becomes another's gain.

You May Never

You may never be wealthy and famous and known Worldwide
But of your achievements in life you ought to take pride
You give a good days work for your every take home pay
And earn your living in the honest way
You are one who performs many a good deed
And you help anybody of helping in need
For your future good Karma you plant the good seed
And you live as a very good person indeed
you never refuse for to help anyone
Though you may never be fully appreciated for the good things for others you have done
And when you have had a few drinks in the local public bar
You never do boast of the great person you are
In your acts of kindness some joy to others you do bring
And you leave it to others your praises to sing.

You Are Not One

You are not one who is poor in any way at all
And your biggest worries to some would seem rather small
Never short of food and with a comfortable bed to sleep in every night
Compared to many for yourself in life you are doing all right
Yet like many far too many for one for to name
You too are one who does yearn for great wealth and fame
Why is it for so many of us our dreams are linked to material success
And others with our achievements we wish to impress
Most of those with unfulfilled life dreams grow old in unhappiness
Since life by far is the greatest gift we do possess
And despite your life successes and the admirers you have won
The greatest gift you have belongs to everyone
With a nice bed to sleep in you never have gone hungry for a day
So what have you got to complain about anyway.

Though From There

Though from there in distance i live far away

I visit the Millstreet Website every day

Sean Radley, Eily Buckley, Hannelie and Michaeld

As well as others help to bring Millstreet to migrants like me

In Claraghatlea where the journey in life for me began

I lived as a boy and grew into a man

Few i went to school with today live in Millstreet

Where today i would be a stranger to many there  i would meet

Far from Duhallow and the fields of the badger and waterways of the brown trout

I may live my last days in this Land of the south

But the good memories of what was in me does remain

And on my flights of fancy i go back again

To the old rushy fields where the waterways meet

In distance not far from the Town of Millstreet.