On The Wrong Side Of The Social Divide

There are millions of people of success without hope
Who on poverty line incomes are struggling to cope
For to feed and clothe their families the financially down
Of the poorer suburbs of every big city and town
Far too many people in Countries Worldwide
Who are on the wrong side of the social divide
The working poor finding it tough on poor pay
And the unemployed struggling on from day to day
That poverty is relative is not saying what is new
But it is sad to think that the majority of the wealth of the World is owned by the privileged few
That for one to win big so many have to lose does seem sad to me
But this is how it is and how it always will be
It is tough on the wrong side of the social divide
For the poorest of the poor in Countries Worldwide.

It Is Early Spring In Ireland

It is early Spring in Ireland but the sky looking gray
It has rained overnight and will rain more today
And the cattle in farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
Many days from the calendar Spring to the true Spring of May

The wind from the mountains blow with a cold chill
And brown flood water is flowing bank high in every stream and rill
Flowing to the big rivers to the far ocean shore
Nature and her ways will live forever more

It is early March in Ireland and birds do not sing
And it feels more like Winter than the calendar Spring
No leaf buds on the bare deciduous trees when cold March winds does blow
And few flowers in the old fields and grass does not grow

The weather is akin to Winter indeed
And the barn swallows not yet home from far Lands to breed
But every day nearer to April and May
Time brings with it change as the wise one does say

The mountains half cloaked in the gray fogs of rain
And brown storm water flowing swiftly in every field drain
The rain drizzling down from the sunless sky of gray
It is more like Winter than early Spring in Ireland today.

Home Is Where Your Heart Is

Home is where your heart is only true to say
And home to you now from your first home in distance is far away
And in home to you now you hope for to stay
For as long as you live till your last night and day
For your first hometown you have shed your last tears
And you have not been back there for decades of years
Where once you were looked on as one of their own
By many today there you would not be known
You may never return to your first hometown again
And only fading memories with you does remain
Of the long gone years and of the what used to be
And the friends of your younger years you may never again see
Home is where your heart is remains ever true
And where you now live it is home to you.

Few Things Stay The Same

Change for the better as some like to say
But others they do not see it in this way
Since for change to occur old ways have to die
And that change is only a disappointment to some is not a lie
Of the praises of change those who love change do sing
But cultural and social change to many can be a disappointing thing
I too am conservative in my own way
Since i yearn for the what was of the bygone day
Like the ways of the Irish Travelers when i was a boy
Seeing them in their horse drawn vans was a source of joy
At the cross roads at night they drank, sung and danced and music played
And now even the memories of what was beginning to fade
The increase in motorized vehicles forced them off of the roads which seemed quite a shame
They became victims of change but then few things stay the same.

It Is One Of Those Days

It is one of those days that your thoughts are quite scattered
And with too much on your mind you feel mentally battered
On any one train of thought for long you cannot keep concentration
Like trying to listen to a radio program with many an intermingling station
Too many thoughts at one time has your mind overcrowded
And your overworked brain is mentally clouded
Worry makes you stressed and stress leaves you unhealthy
The one without stress in peace of mind is wealthy
Too much on your mind and feeling deflated
Your many small worries leaves you irritated
Your sad looking face is an advert for sorrow
And for you there may not be a happier tomorrow
Of too many things at one time you are thinking
And this leaves you feeling deflated with your confidence shrinking.

One Of The Shy Boys Of The Primary School

Far north of this countryside near the City of Warrnambool
In Millstreet Town i was a pupil in the Boys Primary School
The to be famous rally driver Billy Coleman was a pupil there then
Sometimes shy young fellow grow into brave young men

Years later as a rally driver he was Ireland's best
And was never found to be wanting when put to the test
Twice Circuit of Ireland champion he became a hero to many a car rallying fan
Today in retirement he remains a legendary man

Beyond the green borders of Duhallow his fame traveled far
The once shy schoolboy who won fame driving in a rallying car
Always humble in victory and gracious in defeat
In his rallying prime years in Europe always the one to beat

We all have our lives journeys is how it seems to be
To be a champion rally driver was Billy's life destiny
And mine was to travel far south of Claraghatlea in view of high Claramore
Thirty years since i last see Hibernia's shore.

One of the shy boys of the Primary School of the fifties in Millstreet Town
Who would believe Billy Coleman then would drive into rallying renown
That he would be an elite rally driver that many would admire
The quiet boy was one destined for others to inspire.

A February Day In The Moyne Shire

A blustery wind blowing uphill from the bay
The rain falls in a light drizzle in the Moyne Shire today
And yet the weather temperature at a pleasant twenty degrees
And blossoms of many shades on the Summer flower bearing trees
But the paddocks of the coastal Moyne brown and dry and bone dry every drain
And the countryside in need of more water than light drizzling rain
The sun from time to time peeps from behind the gray clouds of the sky
And showers of light rain makes little impression on ground that is quite dry
Yesterday was warm, windy and sunny the weather acting strange
But then we are in the age of Climate Change
With March and the calendar Autumn to the Moyne Shire quite near
The weather can change quickly at this time of year
A magpie is warbling on a black wattle tree
And carrying in the wind the song of the pee wee.