A Fair Go For All Is Something We Should Embrace

For every Nationality and every race
A fair go for all is something we should embrace
A fair go for everyone of every creed
The right to a fair go everyone does need
From politicians negatives we so often hear
And xenophobia is one surely born of fear
But people of goodwill of all races know
That the World would be worse off without a fair go
For every child, every woman and every man
Of every race and of every clan
where racism is rife there is disharmony
And for the good in others we must look to see
And broadminded people can never be small
They believe in the cause of a fair go for all.

poem by Francis Duggan
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For All To Enjoy

Nature's beauty for all to enjoy and see
A beauty that will surely outlive me
But more species become endangered every day
And extinction is forever as they say
Another grove of trees has been cut down
For to build more houses in the country town
Some species of birds and animals becoming rare
Forced by developers to try to find homes elsewhere
By developers great Natural beauty is destroyed
They have changed the face of town and countryside
If with Nature we cannot live in harmony
'Tis a sad indictment on humanity
Nature's beauty is for all to enjoy
Yet such great beauty some wish to destroy

poem by Francis Duggan
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In Old Claraghatlea When I Was A Young Boy

In old Claraghatlea when I was a young boy
Walks in the old fields I used to enjoy
And Summer evenings out hunting in Pomeroy's bog
With Pudsy our dark brown hairy cattle dog
The boy of the fifties is now looking gray
One might say he has known a far better day
But memories of the past in the memory remain
And in memory the past we re-visit again
Old Pudsy long gone she is in time's decay
In Mother earth's bosom forever she lay
And time ticks away and nothing seems to last
And in memory we only can go to the past
And in old Claraghatlea far north and far away
A boy with his dog is out hunting today.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Mopoke Mopoke Is All It Has To Say

In the still of night I hear the boobook cry
Mopoke mopoke in the parkland nearby
Mopoke mopoke is all it has to say
The bird that hides from the bright lamp of day
A voice quite unmelodiuos though clear
That in the night time one does often hear
An owl that the small songbirds greatly fear
They fly from their roosting perch when boobook's near
Small enough for to kill and delicious for to eat
To boobook's taste buds quite a tasty treat
With killer claws and a deadly hooked bill
The boobook owl is out hunting for to kill
Mopoke mopoke echoes in the night sky
The boobook owl hunts in the park nearby.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Only Of A Better Life

Just to keep on living from day to day
Most people are brave in their own sort of way
Just hanging in there when the going is tough
Survival for some it is quite hard enough
Millions of people by life knocked about
Living in war zones and Lands ravaged by drought
Millions sleep rough under the open sky
Who said success is there for those who try?
In refugee camps millions of refugees
Waiting for placements in Lands overseas
Yet in refugee camps they are destined for to stay
With their daydreams of a better life far away
Hunger and racism erodes their self esteem
Only of a better life they can dream.

poem by Francis Duggan
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A Brave One

He has not had an easy life of late
He has battled his demons of despair
Just one of those who has known hard times
And his type of person not rare.

And yet he hangs in there and keeps on battling
And not all hope of success from him gone
A brave one he is not a quitter
And he will keep on keeping on.

He is one with a sense of humour
Though financialy embarrassed he doesn't find it hard to smile
He says life is a hard old battle
But the battle is worthwhile.

He has not known an easy time of late
But to despair he will not give in
He finds life such a very hard battle
A battle he is determined to win.

poem by Francis Duggan
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The Only Thing I Fear

My thoughts on an afterlife are never clear
The thought of dying is the only thing I fear
But to the reaper's scythe I too must fall
The journey through life does end for us all
Each day we live each day the end for us more near
And of those who died brave we often read of and hear
But it matters none to them now how they died
Or if their fame has travelled far and wide
Why weep for me I am not worth a tear
But if you respect me respect what I loved dear
To immortal Mother Nature respect show
She is the only God I claim to know
There will be life long after we are gone
And Mother Nature will be living on.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Old Claraghatlea Where I Was Born And Raised

In rhyme and song and ballad I have praised
Old Claraghatlea where I was born and raised
Some of the old fields there have their own name
Though time brings change I'm sure they'd look the same
As they were when I knew them years ago
And to the river the old stream does flow
Though in that old place where into manhood I did grow
Not many people there now I would know
And not many people there would know of me
To them a stranger I would only be
In fancy I walk the old fields again
And I hear the water rippling in the drain
And the robin in his song does tell of rain
Old memories in the migrant's mind remain.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Work Weary Man

This shovelling concrete is a bore
I feel tired can't take much more
All this working like a slave
Will ge me an early grave.

My time has come to quit
I have had enough of it
I and hard work don't agree
Shovelling concrete is too hard for me.

That pig headed foreman shouting
Day after day he's mouthing
The man doesn't know where to stop
He would drive you till you drop.

The manager has made it clear
He doesn't want Workers Union here
Says Unions commit the sin
Of spoiling working men.

[...] Read more

poem by Francis Duggan
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Since I Am One Without A Literary Degree

Since I am one without a literary degree
Of poets and poetry why bother ask me
Though I have a fondness of old fashioned rhyme
To free verse I would prefer it anytime
Though to a long gone era they well may belong
I remain a fan of the ballad and song
That in long gone Seasons I used to enjoy
In my old Homeplace when I was a young boy
When we sat by the fire grate on a Winter's night
The flame of the burning peat was flickering bright
With the old men and women we did sing along
And they knew the words of many an old song
From them a love of song and rhyme I did gain
A love that to this day with me does remain.

poem by Francis Duggan
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