Addicted To Rhyming

Addicted to rhyming i pen rhymes every day
It is something that if i even wanted to i could not give away
I have been a rhymer since nineteen seventy three
The bug of the rhymer is living in me
In seventy three i was in my physical prime
And this is going back more than four decades in time
And though my best years of life in the forever gone
I live for to rhyme one reason i rhyme on
To pen rhymes it is easy as easy as can be
Cow rhymes with sow and bee rhymes with tree
As a young man i daydreamed of becoming a poet
Quite a famous person one of literary note
But daydreams are just that as the wise one does say
Though i do enjoy rhyming and i rhyme every day.

Memories Of Lisnaboy

Memories of my early lessons in Nature's ways to me remain a source of joy
I loved the old rushy fields of Lisnaboy
When wildflowers were on the ditch of the bohreen
And the countryside was looking healthy and green

The Boggeragh Ranges a beautiful sight
Clara, Gortavehy, Kippagh and Caherbarnagh in the evening sunlight
Displayed a calm and a natural charm of their own
Such beautiful memories a joy to have known

The past it has gone but the memories remain
Of places in fancy i often visit again
I remember the brown bees who lived in a mossy patch on the ground
If you accidentally trod on their nest they made a loud buzzing sound

Which was a clear warning from the scene for to run
For to be stung by angry bees is never any fun
The past to the present with us seems to stay
Good memories from us never do go away

Nature at her finest was all around me
And a male robin sang on a leafy birch tree
In early Summer in the rushy fields of Lisnaboy
Such beautiful memories live on as a source of joy.

I Am One Of Many

I am one of many born and raised elsewhere
Who went to see life in the big World out there
But wherever you go to life's challenges you will meet
And one does not find gold on any town or city street
Though very few dreams have been known to come true
We all have our own dreams in life to pursue
The stay at home fellow i envy in a way
Where he is born and raised in he is happy to stay
He falls in love with a local girl and she becomes his wife
And together they raise their children and grow old in life
Happy in his hometown i envy him indeed
For to see the big World in him there is not the need
I went to see the big World out there but so little of it i did see
Yet the stay at home fellow is happier than me.

The President Loved By Many

The President loved by many was buried today
His casket carried by trailer through the streets in a tearful public display
By many of the people watching from the crowded pavements as the cortege went by
Tears for one many of them had never even spoken to one does wonder why
People weep for one they do not even know who died as an old man
And who had lived a glorious and a very successful life span
But the hero to many is not a hero to all
Some admired political leaders in some of their ways can be small
And though the praises of their so called former great leader the majority may sing
He did not believe in the most important human right and this is a sad thing
And though they weep for a man they did not even know
Any compassion for condemned people he never did show
Because of it's Government poor human rights the consequences they must face
And he is the one responsible that in his Country the death penalty is in place.

The Man Who Feared Death

The battle is over the war heroes are dead
And of how brave that they were in books we have read
But the army deserter is living today
And by all accounts for himself he is doing okay

With two teenage daughters and a beautiful wife
He lives far from his home Country happy in his life
Where nobody knows or care that from the battle he ran
Perhaps he will die peacefully in his sleep as a very old man

Many of his army comrades in Mother Earth lay
For their fame as dead heroes with their lives they did pay
But he is living and happy thanks mainly to fear
Their praises when sung dead heroes do not hear

The battle long over the fighting is done
and the aging mother grieves for her dead son
But he is happy and living the man who feared death
And it will not be of a bullet wound he will draw his last breath.

When J J Callanan Penned Gougane Barra

When J J Callanan penned Gougane Barra he achieved perfection in rhyme
A poem that may live on forever through the ages and ages of time
It even seems better than his The Recluse Of Inchydoney, The Outlaw Of Lough Lene, or The Convict Of Clonmel
He was such an outstanding wordsmith his great poems of him so much does tell

He migrated to sunny Portugal the weather in Ireland for him too wet and cold
But sadly his health it was not good and he did not live to grow old
His legacy beautiful poetry that brings joy to so many today
One of the greatest poets of rural Ireland of him this would be true to say

The music, the rhyme and the rhythm in everything that he did write
A poet of remarkable talent his verse a joy for to read and recite
He lived in a different Ireland from the Ireland we know of today
And far from his beloved Country his last remains at rest does lay

When Callanan wrote Gougane Barra perfection in rhyme he achieved
Yet for his beautiful poetry little in the way of financial reward he received
He was such a wonderful poet his verses to many are a source of joy
Today i enjoy reading his poems as much as i did when a boy.

We Are As Much A Part Of Nature

We are as much a part of Nature as much so as the birds and the bees
As much as the flora around us the grass, flowers and the bushes and trees
As much as all species of fish and animals the domesticated and the wild and free
We are of and belong to Nature this is how it does seem to me
When i say we are a part of Nature there are many to say i am wrong
But each to their own as they do say and i know to whom i belong
She is one of so many colors her beauty for all to be seen
She is known as Mother Nature and she is my Goddess and Queen
Many people believe in a Kingdom of an unseen God in the sky
Where post death good souls will go to for they do have wings for to fly
But i will return to Nature like the rabbit, the hare and the mouse
I was born as much of a mortal as the insect, earthworm and woodlouse
We are as much a part of Nature as the leaves that do grow on a tree
At least this is what i believe in though many with me may not agree.