She Said What A Negative Person You Are

She said what a negative person you are
I've never met one like you and I've travelled far
You say 'tis because of the wealthy we have the downtrod
And you even do question the existence of God
I did not argue with her what use would that be
Since with anything I'd say she would not agree
She prays for her Country's Troops when to her God she does pray
Suppose we all look at life in a different way
She says she detects negative energy in me
But suppose we see in others what we want to see
Her ideas of life are quite different to mine
And what she thinks of me also suits me fine
Nowadays when we meet to each other we have little to say
In passing at most a hello or good day.

If Somebody Wishes To Harm You

If somebody wishes to harm you without any bother they can
Amongst the victims of the criminals are many a good woman and man
If you cannot respect yourself as a person to others respect you cannot show
Such people don't believe in Karma that we only reap what we sow
Some people for their serious crimes never pay at least not by Human made law
This does make a good case for Karma though on that your own conclusion draw
The police from crime cannot protect you they protect a few V I P's but not everyone
And when they come for to help you the harm to you has been done
You cannot protect yourself from harm from others that's how it is and will always be
In life it is hard to make good friends and easy to make an enemy
Never an excuse for harming others though people by criminals injured or raped or murdered every day
If the law cannot prove a case on the offenders then to Karma the price for their crimes they must pay
And if somebody wishes to harm you they certainly can and they will
And they won't worry about Moses Commandment the one that states 'thou shalt not kill'

Danny Spooner

Danny Spooner was raised a London cockney he is a remarkable man
For one who is into his seventies he does seem quite full of elan
A historian of English working class people he sings old songs of the English Countryside
For many years he has lived in Australia where he is renowned far and wide
England's loss is a gain to Australia he is a credit to his race
At the annual Port Fairy Folk Festival Danny Spooner does take pride of place
He tells stories of working class people and as on his old squeeze box he play
He sings old songs that he learned as a young man in his beloved Homeland far away
Perhaps one of the World's last working class historians an extraordinary fellow indeed
He is truly a fountain of knowledge and of more like him we are in need
So witty and so entertaining with thousands of old songs and stories to relate
One who came from working class people and their culture he does celebrate
The World needs more like Danny Spooner England's loss is Australia's gain
And the accent he was born into to this day he proudly retain.

True Battler

For to better himself in the World he does strive
And for him 'tis a battle just for to survive
Always short of money though he daydreams of fame
And 'True Battler' for him indeed seems an apt name

A battler is one you will find anywhere
There are plenty like him in the big World out there
Though life to them never does seem to be fair
They keep battling on in the face of despair.

From welfare to low paid jobs and from low paid jobs to welfare
The courage they display in the face of adversity rare
Their financial woes erode their sense of self esteem
To many life can be so cruel it does seem

A true battler to him hard times are nothing new
He is looking for work where jobs are so few
But the spirit of hope in him is far from dead
And he feels in his heart better times are ahead.

Life Is A Great Teacher

You know your true friend when you are in most need
For like 'tis said such a friend is a friend indeed
One who stands by you when you are feeling down
A cash strapped and depressed poor soul of the town
'Tis when you are most in need your friend you come to know
You ask one you thought was a good mate for a small loan his answer to you no
One who is not short of money of which you are aware
Yet a ten dollar note for you he could not spare
Yet a person you did not know well one you had met a few times before
Gave you the ten dollars and asked did you need more
That this person is your friend you've come to realize
In life every day there is some new surprise
In retrospect in years from now you will recall
That those you thought were your friends not your friends after all
A lesson for us to be learned from life every day
Life is a great teacher it does seem that way.

Boring Internet Literary Forums

Like me do you find Internet Poetry Forums a bit of a bore
A five minute browse there seems seems enough little more
For me one who is not known to be bright
I do like more humor and less complex subject matter than those who delight

In discussing poets who took life so seriously such as Eliot and Poe
Their legends in death even does seem to grow
And though their poems quite great it does seem fair to say
That their words will not have you laughing all day.

They seldom mention Burns the poet who laughed at life
The children he fathered not all to Jean Armour his wife
Yet he loved all of his offsprings and none of them did disown
'Tis from such a person a true legend has grown.

And they seldom do mention the great Oscar Wilde
For his sexuality by snobbish rednecks reviled
Reading Jail's most famous inmate people like him so rare
As a humorist and writer one beyond compare.

I've just mentioned two great literary names here yet there are many more
Marvellous writers in their works humor to the fore
On internet literary forums their names seldom mentioned if ever at all
Though their humor and pathos worthy of recall.

Though many with what I say here will choose to disagree
The internet literary forums seem boring to me
And though my opinion on them as on many things may seem quite wrong
Five minutes in there for me does seem quite long.

Live Every Day As If It Is Your Last

Live every day as if it is your last day and one day you'll be right
As that is as sure as the day follows night
The poor they can laugh as well as dance and sing
And death is far greater than the queen or the king
You may ask what point I am trying to make here
But you may get my drift if with me you persevere
You may as well be happy I am trying to say
For time does not wait it ticks and ticks away
The one with the most money does not always laugh loud
And you'll even see a sad face in a happy crowd
And brief enough indeed is the human life span
So try to enjoy life for as long as you can
So laugh and be merry when all is said and done
Not many do wish to know the sad faced one.

Since Many Of Their Kind

Since many of their kind live longer than a century
The cockatoos and corellas outlive you and me
When what is left of us is in forever ground
For decades of years they will still be around
And though my better years by now are long gone
For as long as I can I will keep living on
And since death is forever and life it is great
I do hope that the Reaper for me has to wait
Many people daydream of this place in the sky
Where the words 'happy forever after' does surely apply
Yet some albeit a minority to get there kill themselves for others to kill
They more than impose on others their own will
And though crimes of the past may seem hard to forgive
As for me I believe on live and let live.

The White Waves At Port Fairy

The white waves at Port Fairy they make a loud din
As on to the long beach the tide does roll in
And the dainty looking silver gulls mew as they fly
As the sun disappears in the gray evening sky
Thousands of centuries before the first Humans came to this great Land
The tide at Port Fairy rolled up the gray sand
Long before the first dinosaurs from their eggs pecked their way free
The huge white waves rolled in the Southern Sea
Though to the Port Fairy locals mine is a strange face
I do feel at home in this beautiful place
The artists have sketched it, the writers of it write
Their stories and poems for to read and recite
A special place to many and a special place to me
Port Fairy where the land does meet with the sea.

What Have We Got To Learn From Nature

What have we got to learn from Nature the more arrogant and ignorant do say
But from the life forms that live all around us we learn something new every day
'Tis not out of love or of passion that the songbird does bother to sing
But to defend his Nesting borders with him song is a territorial thing.

So little we know about Nature of her so much to learn and know
And the more that we do learn of her the more our awe of her does grow
The migratory birds from their Wintering grounds in Spring do fly home for to breed
The map of the World in their small brains a mystery of Nature indeed.

I believe us Humans too are Nature's life forms though many may say that is wrong
That only to Animists and Atheists such thinking could only belong
But everyone's entitled to their opinion and most believe their opinion to be right
and opinions are just that opinions to argue about not to fight.

Yet what have we got to learn from Nature from that point let us not stray
From her something new we can learn every day
And no greater teacher than her 'twould seem fair to say
Though her secrets from us she keeps hidden away.

Of Living Life We Stress And Worry

Of living life we stress and worry till the Reaper of lives seals our fate
For to die is part of our life's destiny and with destiny we have a date
The greatest of us Humans are mortals but then I ask you what is great
The poor who struggle to provide for their families their lives should we not celebrate?

In a World ruled by big corporations big egos do come into play
Where greed for money gives rise to corruption we read about it every day
Where big company C E O's are paid millions in annual salaries whilst in Countries ravaged by drought
Poor people are dying of malnutrition is this what life is all about?

I do not have a good education for my outlook on life to expand
And the workings of the Human World we live in I do struggle for to understand
Why some people have a good feeling about having their monarch's photo on their bedroom wall
When privilege of birth does not fit well in the idea of a 'fair go for all'.

Of living life we stress and worry one wonders why this has to be
since the Reaper of lives who claims all lives will lay claim to the lives of you and me
But with what I say here there are many who assuredly would disagree
And such is what it takes to be Human we all look at life differently.

The Hills Overlooking The Old Country Town

The hills overlooking the old country town
From months of warm weather looking dry bare and brown
And the drought ravaged paddocks are thirsting for rain
And not a drop of water in the roadside drain
And for their poor financial year the local farmers complain
The good times they fear they may not see again
The best of their breeding stock cattle and sheep
They took to the market and had to sell cheap
Their poor quality stock they could not give away
For Climate Change for them the price huge to pay
The sun o'er the western hill is setting red
A sign of more dry and warm weather ahead
And on the main street few cars pass up and down
But life does go on in the quiet country town.

You Feel Sad And Down

You feel sad and down life is not always fair
And of hope for the future you are in despair
In that you are not alone people like you everywhere
But when the going gets tough the tough hang in there
'Life is not meant to be easy' according to George Bernard Shaw
Though on life your own conclusions you can draw
Life is never easy for those on the poor side of the town
Where many do only know of ill renown
The victims of poverty due to birth circumstance
At any success in life they do stand little chance
Out of work and the economy at present doing quite bad
But at least you were born to a good mum amd dad
And you've never once been to Poverty Street
Where many are Homeless without food to eat.

Drought In The Amazon

I have heard on the radio news of today
Of a drought in the Amazon Forest from here far away
Such sad news the worst news one could wish to hear
Than terrorism to Humanity a far greater fear
The Amazon Rainforest is the World's Environmental Soul
And with that in strife Climate Change is out of control
As much of the World's carbon emissions are absorbed by healthy Rainforest trees
And without them the World Climate will grow warmer by many degrees
Though the gravity in such news for Humanity none ought to deny
That it was not a news headliner I do wonder why?
Do we believe in not highlighting Climate Change and Global Warming that they will go away
Than war or terrorism a far greater threat to Human existence and it seems sad to say
That in tackling Climate Change our resolve is in doubt
Only hunger and death in a World ravaged by drought.

Rhymeraphobia

I suffer of rhymeraphobia a fear that all rhymers are better than me
In the words of the average rhymer the words of a poet I do see
Suppose that comes from writing for decades without any success for to show
And that's what happens when you are addictive with your self esteem very low
For years I've been an addictive rhymer that's how rhymeraphobia set in
Suppose that's what happens after years of rhyming if you never do have a win
You feel that you will never make it but to quit would be for to lose face
And that's why I carry on writing and for my worth as a writer try to build a case
I've never been published in a big way one might call me a stranger to fame
But there are many so many like me who carry on writing just the same
Not every writer can become famous or from writing become a millionaire
In fact the very successful writers to say the least do seem quite rare
I suffer of rhymeraphobia I fear all other rhymers write better than me
But for as long as I can I'll keep rhyming for however long that may be.

The River From The High Country

Through dry and brown paddocks and many a bush town
The river from the high country babbles on down
In the darkness of night and the bright lamp of day
To the Pacific Ocean many miles away
In Summer when the sun's lamp is glowing in the sky
And most of the creeks that do feed it are dry
The river from the high country at it's most low
Still down the brown gravel it ripples on slow
In heavy drought breaking rains it does overflow
And into a huge body of water does grow
It floods the bush town and the flat countryside for miles around
And animals for their safety move to the higher ground
From the high paddocks by the hill that are shrubby and brown
It flows to the sea by many a bush town.

The Kind Of Person You Are

I do not care where you come from what Country or place
Of your gender or Nationality or your color or Race
Of the size of your house or of your business or car
I just want to know of the person you are
You are seen by many as successful with me that's okay
But having said that what is success anyway
Many seen as successful are not good people at all
And in their own small ways they are very small
For many it is a hard old World the big Woirld out there
Where hundreds are homeless and hungry for every millionaire
If you own a big swimming pool and drink the most expensive wine
I do say 'good on you' though that's no business of mine
Or of how much money you have accumulated or of the size of your car
I would prefer to know of the kind of person you are.

Memories Of The Glasheen Rill

Time brings with it changes as some are known to say
I wonder do young boys catch eels in the Glasheen today
As I did with my school-friends a long time ago
Though of eels and their ways little I can claim to know
The boys I went to school with aging men of today
And some from the Glasheen Rill many miles away
And some live in Millstreet they love the Homeplace
Where mine even nowadays might be a strange face
But life goes on back there by old Clara Hill
And doubtless the eels come to the Glasheen Rill
The beauty of Nature I learned to enjoy
In the old rushy fields when I was a young boy
Where the Glasheen through Inchaleigh babbles on down
And flows into the Finnow just west of Millstreet Town.

Our Biological Clock

Our biological clock on us ticks time away
We grow a bit older every night and day
Whoever said time flies did not have it wrong
And in time a hundred years is not that long
An octogenarian is old as most would agree
Yet not many do live for a century
It is a fact of life and facts never lie
That like all other life forms us Humans must die
For every life form there is a final Spring
The little songbird has his last song to sing
And from the grove he lives in long after he has gone
His song in the males of his descendants destined to live on
The ticking of our biological clock we never do hear
But each tick that it gives to it's last tick is near.

What Will Rogers Said

When he lived the most popular means of transport was the pushbike
Will Rogers who said he never met a man that he did not like
But had the great man being living today
He may look at life in a different way.

To Humanity with his words an honour he did pay
Yet in fairness of him 'twas a big thing to say
To the higher self he was one who was true
And he was a great man to give him his due.

Since Will Rogers lived many Seasons have come and gone
But the words of the great man today living on
He must have loved Humanity to say such a thing
And the praises of such a man we ought to sing.

The good in Humanity he seemed to see
Such words could not come from a cynic like me
With the dead of his Country Will Rogers remains lay
But his name lives as a legend of the U S of A.

In The Age Of Terrorism

In every act of terrorism the innocent do die
And that a fundamentalist can become a terrorist is surely not a lie
A lack of respect for those they see as different lead some to serious crime
In the age of the suicide bomber we live in such a time
The one you look on as an enemy may never become your best friend
But for one to deliberately kill people is something I cannot comprehend
That war and exploitation give rise to acts of terrorism so happens to be true
But to those who deliberately kill civilians the worst karma is due
In killing the defenceless their crimes are worse than bad
To commit such atrocities these people must be mad
We live in the age of terrorism and on the news every day
We hear of people killed by terrorists in cities far away
And for the sins of others the innocents with their lives do pay
For being in the wrong place at the wrong time that does seem sad to say.

So Much On Human Nature

So much on Human Nature that one ought to believe
Such as the thing known as perfection none can hope to achieve
You may be a good person you may be even great
And others may look up to you and your achievements celebrate
But those we see as extraordinary in some ways are ordinary
Even those we look up to are flawed that's how 'twould seem to me
I have known many people I have walked on many a street
But the one who is near perfect is the one I have yet to meet
If we look for flaws in others the flaws not hard to see
The most perfect not perfect that's how 'twould seem to be
The more I learn of Human Nature the less of it I know I know
And knowledge as well as wisdom on bushes does not grow
And some things on Human Nature that one ought to believe
Such as the thing known as perfection none can hope to achieve.

A Rainy Evening In March

After months of drought conditions so welcome is the rain
And nice to see the brown stormwater running in the open drain
It may not be the drought breaking heavy rains that we so badly need
But every drop is welcome very welcome indeed
Up north there has been huge floods and months of drought down here
In Climate Change the weather patterns to say the least severe
Either too much rain or no rain in the Land of flood, drought and fire
The weather patterns do seem strange they change from Shire to Shire
The landscape looking dry and bare and as brown as it has ever been
It will take more than a few hours rain for to turn the paddocks green
A wet and windy evening in early March in the first week of the Fall
A few hours rain hardly a drought breaker but better than no rain at all
And nice to see the open drain in flood waters of brown
Flowing downhill to it's destination the lake in the park of the town.

The Former Dunce Of The Classroom

The dunce of the Classroom in Primary School
Just due to lack of interest yet nobody's fool
One of the wealthiest people in his Hometown today
Wonders never cease as some are known to say
Big Brothers disciples he sure does impress
All of his business ventures have proved a success,
The smartest boy of the Classroom is not doing well
Of his life without success stories to tell
The former dunce of the Classrooom is a multi millionaire
His business thriving in a Worldwide economic depression such success stories are rare
He did come up the hard way to eventually succeed
A book on his rise to prominence would make a marvelous read
The dunce of his Classroom in the eighties and a multi millionaire today
A good one he cannot be kept down he came up the hard way.

Fundamentalists And Fundamentalism

Though of it the Human World is not in need
It does not have a Race or it does not have a Creed
In religion or atheism you can find it there
It does not have a home feels at home anywhere
To the most arrogant of people it does only belong
Fundamentalists in their thinking feel they cannot be wrong
Their contempt for those different they cannot even hide
They feel they alone do have truth on their side
As fundamentalists can only see things in their own way
Fundamentalism does not work well in the World of today
With their own kind they socialize and with their own kind they do pray
And to those of different thinking disrespect they do pay
You are for or against us that's what they do say
Though such thinking does not gain them many friends in the World of today.

By The Cliffs Of The Sea

The magpie he pipes on the black wattle tree
In the gray of twilight by the cliffs of the sea
The temperatures nice around 18 degrees
And the evening is calm with only a slight breeze
The sky seems to meet the World where the ocean is deep
And the huge mass of saltwater appears to be asleep
The crow on the fence post he caws loud and long
His is a familiar though not pleasant song
In the twilight of an evening in the early Fall
Above the volcanic cliffs the silver gulls call
And birds in small flocks to their roosting trees fly
As darkness descends on the calm coastal sky
The darkening shades of twilight are all around me
And all is so quiet by the cliffs of the sea.

To Them We Are Food

Since they cannot eat grass or seeds they can only eat meat
The animals, reptiles, fish and birds of prey they must kill for to eat
And if they they don't eat then they will not live
The innocent killers don't have sins to forgive
The big cats and hyaenas, the fierce crocodile
The human eating reptile with death in it's smile
'Tis not for the joy of it or 'tis not for the thrill
But for their own survival these creatures do kill
To the great sharks of the ocean many humans fall prey
To them we are food and to kill to them to survive is their natural way.
For self preservation it does seem to me
That to keep out of their waters does seem a good idea
The eagles they soar in the calm of the day
With their eyes towards the ground on their lookout for prey.

An Unsuccessful Fellow

An unsuccesful fellow I've written reams of bad rhyme
And I would be in prison if penning doggerel was a crime
As gray as a badger and years past my life's prime
Though we all become victims of old Father time.

I now live far south of my old Homeland shore
Ten thousand miles having said that maybe more
From where I grew to love Nature as a young Schoolboy
A walk in the old fields I used to enjoy.

The old fields that from me are now far away
Yet in fancy I visit them every day
The old fields resplendent in their wildflowers of May
The beauty we once knew in memory stay.

Though they do still retain a place in my heart
From my friends of the past I have drifted apart
Perhaps some of them try to hide time's decay
Pride comes before a fall as some are known to say.

All I ask out of life now is to live free of stress
And enjoy just a little share of happiness
And of cares and worries feel reasonably free
This is what success does mean to one such as me.

Between Wrong And Right

Though some put their point across by force of might
There is a great difference between wrong and right
And force of might never can make right out of wrong
To the arrogant and ignorant such thinking belong.

For to prove how right they are some get into a fisticuff fight
But their sort of people are not very bright
And arrogant leaders of powerful Nations send their war planes to war
For to bomb foreign cities from their home shores afar.

Though their kind of people are not in the few
I admire those who argue their point of view
And do not dismiss those they are arguing with point of view offhand
Of people skills such people do have command.

Those who think they are never wrong have never been rare
Of their own sense of self they are only aware
Their attitude to dislike only does amount
Since they never take others points of view into account.

A Tragic Story From Kinglake

So many sad and tragic stories from the ashes of Nature's fierce ire
From places such as Marysville and Kinglake of the merciless fire
That burnt it's way through woodland and town
And blackened the landscape that was once green or brown.

In Victoria's tragic fires many stories of heartbreak
Such as the mother and father and their two young daughters and their dogs who died at Kinglake
Such stories of tragedy lives on for years
And in the hardest of hearts even can stir up tears.

For families and relatives and friends of the fire dead only memories remain
Of people they loved never to meet again
And where the fires have been through only blackness today
And that life must go on seems so sad for to say.

A tragic story from Kinglake that was so sad to hear
Of a family and their pets for them I've shed a tear
Their life story in book form may never be told
Suppose Nature did not wish them for to grow old.

Why Nature Can Only Tame Nature

Humans have walked on the Moon's surface and sent spaceships to Mars
And Humans have probed for life in Worlds beyond the Stars
But despite our Human achievements and our great lust for fame
The great force of Nature we never will tame
The fires in Victoria Humans cannot put out
They burn through the scrublands that are ravaged by drought
Leaving death and destruction and woe and heartbreak
And grieving survivors in their blackened wake
The fires that will only be put out by rain
Why Nature can only tame Nature is beyond me to explain
Of Nature and her ways so little we know
And yet our wonder of her only does seem to grow
And if the fires in Victoria they cannot put out
The greatness of Human-kind one has to doubt.

George Crabbe Wrote Of

George Crabbe wrote of hardship and poverty and woe
In the England he lived in a long time ago
But perhaps his poems might be more popular today
Had he looked at life in a less truthful way.

George Crabbe wrote of children in dire poverty
The poor sad victims of Human cruelty
And the poems full of pathos and the poems full of truth
Of a poet who was blessed with the great gift of ruth.

He wrote of human cruelty to their own kind
A God in the soul of such a person you'll find
He did not write of mythological figures or monarch or squire
He wrote for the poor his type I do admire.

Of the poverty around him he was all too aware
But poets like George Crabbe they have always been rare
Though if you feel a bit down and a good laugh you do need
His poems lacking in Humor are not for you to read.

Of the poor souls of England George Crabbe did write
His poems not hard to understand or to read or recite
And though as a person and poet he was great
Such poets the masses never do celebrate.

The First Of March 09

There's scarce enough of grass here for to feed a hare
The paddocks for miles around are dry, brown and bare
The farm water dams almost empty the creek beds bone dry
And not a rain cloud in the blue sunny sky
Not a drop of water in the roadside drain
And the farmers have grown tired of praying for rain
The cattle for weeks have been living on hay
The rain that is badly needed not coming this way
The first day of March and the first day of the Southern Fall
And the longest drought that the old man can recall
For eighty two years he has lived around here
He says Climate Change on the landscape severe
The sheep from the sun shelter by the gum trees
And butterflies flit in the warm morning breeze.

Time

They are the greats of Human History and their names to this day we recall
And though great time than them is far greater and time does take care of all
In time they too will be forgotten for time keeps on ticking away
For Time like Nature is forever and human bones to dust decay
Caesar once conquered part of the World and though his name lives in history today
In time he too will be forgotten time on that too will have the say
The human life span goes so quickly and we age quickly beyond our life's prime
The billionaire dies like the pauper money cannot bribe the Father of Time
So make the most of every moment for time it just keeps ticking on
the aging on looking back will tell you how quickly that time has gone
the biological clock keeps on ticking away the seconds of our mortality
Time does not wait for anybody and that also does include me
So make the most of every moment and living life try to enjoy
A half of a century seemed to pass quickly since I was a Primary Schoolgoing boy.

Harold Wilson

Harold Wilson was Britain's pipe smoking Prime Minister a smart politician as I do recall
He was a champion of Britain's Labor voters to many their Nation's best P M of all
A stocky round faced man he was as cool as an ice cube about him he did have quite a charming way
So clever yet he never did show much emotion he always seemed calm he was quite a man in his day

In refusing to commit British troops to the Vietnam war the wily one from Huddersfield was thinking ahead
As was proven by the Allies failure in Vietnam with thousands of their brave soldiers dead
But Britain was in economic depression and Wilson's Government went down to defeat
To the right wing Conservative Party led by the ambitious Ted Heath.

In March 1974 Wilson again became Prime Minister but in 1976 he called it a day
The pipe smoking Prime Minister of Britain gave his Nation's top job away
He retired with his poet wife Mary but alzheimer's did quickly set in
And it stripped the great genius of all of his memory in life it is so hard to win.

Harold Wilson was a British Prime Minister who later lost his memory
But he was a wily campaigner as wily as wily can be
He smoked his pipe in his relaxed way in Britain a Labor Party great
Till alzheimer's robbed him of his memory who could wish on anyone such a fate.

If You Want An Honest Opinion On Your Poetry

Since I have never been to Uni and I do not have a Literary Degree
If you want to know about poetry go ask someone other than me
I doubt my own worth as a writer I've never said I was a poet
Ask someone other for an opinion on your writing a literary critic or one of literary note
One who knows what they are on about it can be a he or a she
Though on who is or is not a good writer the experts don't always agree
As for me I'm just your average old fashioned rhymer and though I've written a whole heap of stuff
I've always liked verse with rhyme in it one might say I am a rhyme buff
I am not into modern poetry such does not interest me at all
But the names of the famous dead rhyming poets are names that I love to recall
But having said that I am not a judge of rhyme verse for such I am not qualified
That I am not well educated is a fact I never try to hide
So if you want an honest opinion on your poetry I am one that you ought to ignore
For I am just your average rhyme buff that's all I am and nothing more.

Are You One Of

Are you one of the not so confident people and your own worth you often do doubt
That on the gifts and talents some others are bestowed with you feel you somehow seems to have missed out
But for one to be lacking in self confidence is not such a bad thing at all
In a World of many super confident and arrogant people who in their own small ways are small
You have what it takes to be Human to you is all that I can say
For far too many with inflated egos in the Human World of today
So full of their own self importance their body language says look at me
We need far more of the not so self confident they display more of their humanity
We all need some ego for survival at least that is what we are told
But some people do not learn from living they grow more arrogant as they grow old
Suppose they cannot help the way they are and though some self confidence is not a bad thing
Some get carried away in their own self adulation and of their own praises they only wish to sing
So why doubt yourself as a person and worry for your lack of success
You too have your gifts like all others though others you do not wish to impress.

Gerald McCarthy's Pride

The man who believes he has right on his side
Gerald McCarthy who talks of red jersey pride
But since Cork's finest hurlers for him refuse to play
His sense of right does seem all wrong anyway.

The coaches of the County teams the County Board Executives decide
And behind Gerald their appointee his County Board hide
They maintain their silence and back him all of the way
That poor Gerald is the fall guy does seem sad to say.

Since the County Board executives knew all along
That to re-appoint Gerald as County Team manager with Cork's best hurlers all wrong
They have got into a power struggle that they cannot hope to win
What a mess it does seem they have put themselves in.

It is only for the honours that hurlers do play
And since their County Board cannot deduct money from those they never do pay
In the non physical war for pride Gerald and the County Board will lose out
Of that I do feel there should not be any doubt.

For Gerald a former All Ireland Medallist it is a fading dream
Of coaching to Liam McCarthy Cup glory a Cork Hurling team
Cork's best hurlers did not want him so he should have stood aside
But Gerald believes he is right and has self belief in his pride.

Why Worry About It

Since those who care about you for you do not love you less
Why worry about it your lack of success
On the true meaning of success many would disagree
And since you speak about it please define it for me
Many successful people feel worried and depressed
And though many by their achievements are impressed
They always look serious never crack a joke
Of humor and laughter they surely seem broke
Yet many on low incomes who struggle to survive
The humor and laughter in them is alive
Yes what is success does seem hard to define
It is how you do see it your opinion is as good as mine
The one on a low income who hasn't a care
Or the sad faced and depressed multi millionaire.

A Stranger By Clara Today

The years seem to fly and time ticking away
And what hair I have left on my head silver gray
And it goes without joy for me for to say
That I would be a stranger in Clara Today.

Perhaps even in Claraghatlea my old Homeplace
To many who live there mine would be a strange face
But the old fields I loved they would look much the same
I recall some of them even had their own name.

A migrant in this sunny Southern Land
Where my accent many struggle for to understand
A migrant here and a stranger by Clara is all I could be
And only the memories now live on with me

Of the very old fields where the rank rushes grow
In a place I once loved where many I did know
But the past is the past and life goes on somehow
And the future is ahead and we live in the now.

The Aging American

He comes from the Land of the brown grizzly bear
The aging American with silver gray hair
From western Nebraska a long way from here
He looks fit and well for one in his seventieth year
In the pub he talks of his homeplace far away
His State of Nebraska in the U S of A
And though his wife and children and grandchildren are Aussies like it has been said before
The migrant will always recall the Homeland Shore
The songs that he loved as a Nebraska boy
Of the great Stephen Foster he still does enjoy
A nice enough old bloke locally well known
And to his local community he is one of their own
The accent he was born into he does retain
That bit of his Homeland with him does remain.

The Fires In Victoria

The fires in Victoria burning night and day
Through wooded and dry countryside they burn their way
For many fire affected Victorians it has been a terrible year
Of death and destruction such bad news to hear
The countryside very dry after long months of drought
And only heavy rains now will put the flames out
Hundreds of Human lives have been lost and thousands of homes burnt down
In Gippsland and Kinglake and Marysville Town
And more than a million animals have died
Their blackened remains in the blackened countryside
To Nature death and destruction are one of the same
Her anger is too great for Humans to tame
And nothing will stop the fires only heavy rain
And only sad memories of February 09 with us will remain.

Not Two Of A Kind

Are you one who tends to ridicule others when them you criticize
Or above such ordinary behaviour are you one who tries to rise
And use your criticisms in a constructive way
Personal verbal attacks and criticism are different one might say.

Those who ridicule are arrogant and for arrogance no prize
And the arrogant are ordinary they never do grow wise
Yet some they insult do look up to them and to befriend them do try
Why sometimes the offended party behaves in such a way I often wonder why?

Though the complexities of human behaviour seems too big a thing for me
The arrogant I do know do remain as ordinary
And though many of them seen as successful with that one must agree
They do sadly lack in wisdom compassion and empathy.

Criticism and insult are not two of a kind
In those who criticize you some compassion you may find
But the one who insults you only cause you offense
Such people are very ignorant and lack in common sense.

The Young Man and the OId Man

A difference in thinking between one of eighty and one of twenty three
The old man and the young man look at life differently
The young man looks forward to decades ahead
But the old man knows he soon will be with the dead
The old man always tired sits at home every day
And the biological clock on his life it keeps ticking away
His only life ambition now is to live for as long as he can
And die without pain as a very old man
The young man he dreams of success in his life
Healthy children, a new home, great job, new car and a beautiful wife
The old man and his old wife at each other swear
The mutual love they enjoyed it is no longer there
The ambitious young bloke he is full of elan
But the same cannot be said of the weary old man.

Our Marvelous Earth Mother

We are part of her and to her we belong
And if you cannot love her with you something wrong
Every life form in the world she is known for to feed
We cannot live without her though us she does not need
She rules all of the World the land and the sea
Our marvelous Earth Mother a great Goddess to me
From a tiny dark seed she can grow a great tree
Her powers are amazing do you not agree
So little about her I can claim to know
Though us Humans like her Seasons to life come and go
Since the facts tell us we are mortals and facts never lie
And all mortals as we know are born to die
But our marvelous Earth Mother will live forever more
In every Country and on every shore.

With Many With Money

With many with money it is much wants more
I'm sure that's a saying you've often heard before
And many with enough are not satisfied
That greed is addictive cannot be denied
That the gap between the haves and the have nots is widening does seem sad to say
And millions of people are hungry and homeless in the World of today
And for every millionaire hundreds in poverty
Lack of money is the source of inequality
Not all very wealthy people suffer of financial greed
Of wealthy philanthropists we so often do read
With the poor of the World some of their wealth they do share
So great is the kind and generous billionaire
The words much wants more to them does not apply
And credit of them we should never deny.

Back There Near Ballydaly

Back there near Ballydaly the rain is drizzling down
And few cars on the roadway that leads to Millstreet Town
And though only a few days now from the first of the calendar Spring
The songbirds yet not nesting though they soon will start to sing
The weather cold and wet and windy though the first of March is near
And soon in Ballydaly the Cuckoo's voice they'll hear
And the swallows will be home to breed from warm climes far away
And o'er the rushy old fields chase insects in the lamp of day
Clara and Caherbarnagh cloaked in the fogs of rain
And the brown flood waters gurgling in the flooded roadside drain
But soon the birds will be singing and nesting as the warmer winds do blow
Nature's wildflowers will deck the fields as the grass begins to grow
And the deciduous trees in Winter that looked ugly and bare
Will be looking quite beautiful when their Summer green they will wear.

In Big Brother's Eyes

You hang in there in life's battle though the going for you is tough
But to say the least you feel sad to know you are not good enough
To be rated by Big Brother as one who has achieved
For being a battler recognition as of yet you've not received
Battlers not seen as successful in the World of today
They are looked upon as losers that does seem quite sad to say
You do work hard for a living for very low take home pay
And to help out those in need of help you go out of your way
But in Big Brother's eyes you are a loser though your very best you try
'Tis a fact of life I speak of and facts one cannot deny
Big Brother disciples are judgemental and though you work hard they see that as to no avail
Every battler in the World their type have condemned to fail
But in the eyes of the non judgemental your life is a success
Though Big Brother and his disciples you have failed to impress.

So Much To Write About

I commenced penning stuff when in my life's prime
And I've never written poetry I only pen rhyme
Not hard for to pen and easy to recite
And the type of stuff anybody could write
And though my worth as a rhymer I have reason to doubt
In Nature and life so much to write about
The flora and fauna the flowers and the trees
The animals and birds and the insects and bees
The fishes and mammals of river and sea
The wonders of Nature amazing to me
With rhyming words I am one who likes to play
I write about people I meet every day
old age is approaching my best years long gone
But I am determined to keep penning on.

We Reap What We Sow

The writers of it write and the singers of it sing
The great gift of life is a marvellous thing
So precious and beautiful yet so sad to say
That some soul damaged people from others take their gift of life from them away
So many fall victim to bomb, gun and knife
To those who have no respect for human life
But in the Universal Karma we reap what we sow
And the fruits of bad Karma not that hard to grow
I believe karma will judge us for wrongs we have done
And is Karma the Universal God for everyone?
For the answer to that ask one other than me
Though great thinkers on such questions do disagree
Yet the theory of good and bad Karma to me does appeal
And I do believe that it is for real.

If You Pay Respect

If you pay respect to where respect is due
And to your own higher self try to remain true
And treat everyone as an equal and all as the same
Your's ought to live on as a remembered name.

If for everyone you believe on a 'fair go'
And despite their Race or Creed due respect to them show
And never ruin anyone's character with malicious lies
Above the ordinary you are one who does seem to rise.

If you unlike many not addicted to greed
And try to help those of help who are in need
And of your own Human flaws you do feel aware
To say the least people like you are quite rare.

If you do believe in the live and let live
And you are not too proud to receive and generous enough for to give
And respect to the rights of all others you pay
Then as a person you are doing quite okay.

Tiger Woods

He is many times over a multi millionaire
And arguably the World's greatest ever golf player
The golfer most young golfers would love to emulate
The legendary sports star and a golfing great
'Tis true Tiger Woods is the golfer to beat
In every golf tournament in which he compete
For many years now the World's number one
So many golf majors the great champ has won
The golfer who has proved himself in every test
That's why by so many he is rated as the best
Professional golfer in the World of today
By millions beyond the borders of the U S of A
The World's number one golfer for many years now
Though to the father of time he eventually must bow.

The Heroes And The Wise

Only fools do sunbathe in the hot mid-day sun
But a wise one will say sir to the one with the gun
With a gun pointed at you under such circumstance
To be brave with your life would be taking a chance.

Yet for the wise you never see a parade
Suppose 'tis by those who need heroes that heroes are made
The wise are almost anonymous even in their Hometown
They do not even seem interested in local renown.

One seems to go un-noticed the other the masses celebrate
Between the hero and the wise one the difference is great
For the hero there's many a loud hip hooray
And the wise one is one who has little to say.

The heroes of sport and the heroes under fire
Are the type that the masses do tend to admire
But I recall once I heard a wise one say
Why the wise go un-noticed is that they like it that way.

The Consequences Could Be Dire

For the Human World the consequences could be dire
Climate Change all around us in earthquakes, storms, floods, drought and fire
For our abuse of our Natural Envcironment such the price we must pay
Without us Mother Nature would do quite okay
And without us our Earth Mother would get along fine
The more carbon emissions the more fierce when the sun shine
We need our Earth Mother without her we cannot hope to survive
And by our bad Natural Environment practice 'tis ourselves we deprive
We pollute the air and every waterway
And what we do to Nature to our own selves we do that does seem sad to say
To change our way of living it is not yet too late
A healthier Natural Environment for future generations we can help to create
If we will carry on living the way we live we will seal our own fate
As we are putting on Humanity an Extinction Date.

One Who Is Easily Satisfied

He does not wish to buy half of the Countryside
For he is one who is easily satisfied
To provide for his wife and his young family
Is success enough in life for one such as he.

He never daydreams of great wealth and renown
A working class man of the industrial town
That his children are healthy and happy as well as their mother his wife
And he can pay the bills enough for him in life.

The quiet achiever of him one can say
And a fellow who works hard for his take home pay
He has a few beers every saturday
And to help one in need of help he'd go out of his way.

The masses don't look up to him as a great
And though his type of person others don't celebrate
He is one that I cannot help but admire
And of singing his praises I could never tire.

I've Written Of

I've written of Nature and Nature's beauty I've seen
Of the bluebells in Spring on the ditch of the bohreen
And I've written about the paddocks bare and brown
Of the quiet outback far from the nearest town.

I've written of animals, insects and bees
And territorial songbirds singing on sunlit trees
And I've written of fish and amphibians and flowers
And of rivers flowing bank high swollen by heavy showers.

I've written of people I know and have known
And though my rhymes may not be good they are surely my own
For they came from me that I vouch to be true
And I only ask out of life what I am due.

Penning of rhyme is a 'hungry belly game' some are known to say
Yet in Nature and life something to write about every day
And though I am not a poet I have said that before
I write for the love of it and nothing more.

I've written of the fellow who grieves for his wife
And I've written of love and I've written of life
And though my best years to the long forgotten have gone
For as long as I live I will be penning on.

Have You Ever Wondered

Have you ever wondered what life is about
And your worth as a person do you ever doubt?
Such questions as some ask themselves every day
Self doubt born of low self esteem some do say

And some tell you self confidence and self conceit
Are siblings and are living on the one street
Level headed people are hard to be found
One might say of them there's not many around.

Have you ever wondered why life gets you down
And that you are one of the sad souls of the town?
You do blame it on your lack of financial success
Though many with heaps of money don't know of happiness.

Your problems to you they are many and real
But you are not alone in the way that you feel
There are many like you in the big World out there
And people stuggling with their feelings one might say every-where.

It Won't Make Any Difference

To the World it won't make any difference though you may not agree
Of what I think of you or what you think of me
In the flaws of others our own flaws we see
Though with that some may differ and say differently.

I am not what one would call a good soul
For I feel that my ego is out of control
My inflated ego that seem to compel
Me for to keep penning reams of doggerel.

Would to give writing away for me be loss of pride
And is addictive behaviour to the ego tied?
I am just pondering questions to self as I scribble along
To the out of date thinkers perhaps I belong.

I once had a dog she was my greatest friend
She loved me unconditionally until her life's end
But to love in the Human World conditions apply
Why dogs are more loving than us I do wonder why?

Portland

It is Victoria's birthplace or so it has been said
I've been to there a few times and of it I have read
It has inspired the writers stories of it to write
And the poets of old Portland their poems read and recite.

The locals there are friendly a welcoming sort of place
On the wide streets of Portland many a friendly face
A place where manmy visit the big Town by the sea
In and around the City so much to do and see.

A livable City Portland I know some who live there
And they could not imagine themselves living anywhere
Else other than their beloved Portland they do love their Hometown
To be born raised and raise their children there for them enough of renown.

I have been there a few times and good memories I retain
Of a coastal pioneer rural City to where I will return to again
For I was made to feel welcome there on every Portland street
Many friendly and smiling faces I happened for to meet.

Louis Rams

Poemhunter's most improved poet that does seem fair to say
Like good wine he keeps on getting better he matures by the day
A mentor for Poemhunter's younger poets by good example he does lead
Every new poem by Louis Rams is always worth the read
The likes of Louis an asset to any literary site
He keeps on getting better such good poems he does write
A person who knows about life he is a wise old sage
Though well beyond his prime years of life he does improve with age
Louis Rams the quiet achiever a good man and a good poet
His poetry is so readable he is one worthy of note
One who does live his verses to his higher self he is true
And far greater recognition he is long overdue
On poetry such as Louis Rams writes there is never a use by date
He is a very good poet and good poets become great.

Where Everyone Knows Everyone

Where everyone knows everyone your business not your own
And every thing about you by everyone is known
And even family secrets cannot be kept ahide
From your own small community in the quiet countryside
To where everyone knows everyone the Seasons come and go
And everything about you others do seem to know
And about them you know everything that's how it seems to be
And you feel happy to live in your small community
Where everyone knows everyone it does come as no surprise
That everyone grows older but few seem to grow wise
Where everyone knows everyone newcomers feel out of place
And there's a latent mistrust of those of different Race
And everything about you is known by everyone
'Tis a small World we live in when all is said and done.

I Remember The Time

I remember the time when the Gaelic Footballers of Millstreet
In the Cork County Senior Championship for the best were a hard team to beat
But time does bring change as some like to say so
And that is going back a few decades ago.

Nowadays with Duhallow's best junior footballers Millstreet cannot compete
The downturn for them one can say is complete
But in sport as in life few things stay the same
And Gaelic Football after all is only a game.

The glory days for Millstreet Gaelic Football may be gone
But in the Town in view of Clara life as usual goes on
Though Millstreet glory days in sport Millstreet people like to recall
There is far more to life than Gaelic Football.

Of the North Cork Gaelic Football Clubs Millstreet were to the fore
And against the County's best they often kicked a winning score
And though no Gaelic Senior Football team in Millstreet today
Life as usual goes on in the Town far away.

In Nature's There's Beauty

In Nature there's beauty for all to be seen
Her Autumns of brown and her Springs of green
Her Summers of sunshine and beautiful flowers
And her snow capped hills of Winter and her wind driven showers
In Nature there beauty a beauty that's rare
And with her none other can hope to compare
Wherever I turn to look beauty I see
The beauty of Nature is all around me
The fish in the clear pool of the sunlit stream
The pretty red and blue spots in their skins do gleam
Since facts don't deceive and facts never lie
All of her life forms are born to die
But the beauty of Nature will live forever more
From the great inland mountains to the ocean shore.

An Old Man Talks Of The Hopkins

In my youth it flowed clean it was a beautiful waterway
That's what the old Warrnambool local did say
And for human progress he added there is some price to pay
The Hopkins is badly polluted today.

In Warrnambool he said I was born and raised
But at the environmental damage I am quite amazed
As a young person in the Hopkins I used to swim
But a dip in the now polluted river is no longer for him.

In Warrnambool he has spent all of his life
And swimming in the Hopkins he first met his wife
The passing of time has left them looking gray
And their children's children are parents today.

The years had left him and his wife walking slow
As they walked by the dark Hopkins that at a crawling pace flow
Between the brown high paddocks a mile from the sea
To him not the waterway that used to be.

Do Not Take Life Too Seriously

Do not take life too seriuously as time quickly ticks away
And soon you will be older and using hair dye to cloak your gray
Few wish to know the sad faced one as some are known to say
You may as well be happy and laugh all through the day
The happy and the carefree their friends in numbers grow
These are the sort of people that others wish to know
If you tell other people about your bad luck year
They may feign interest but your story they would prefer not to hear
That laughter is the best of medicine to everyone does apply
And those with happy dispositions their friends do multiply
But such is understandable those with the inner glow
Will always be the people that others wish to know
Those who complain of their hard lives others find hard to bear
But everybody seems to like those who seem free of care

That To Many Ignorance Is Bliss

That to many ignorance is bliss does that seem fair to say
Since despite the Worldwide climate change we live in the usual way
We still burn environmentally harmful fuels for that I'm also to blame
What's been happening to our Natural Environment is to Humanity's shame
Governments spending trillions to bolster the sagging economies yet to the Natural Environment Governments are not a friend
We can survive on a depressed economy but on Nature our survival depend
If the Governments spent trillions on Natural energy and on carbon emissions cut back
Then Mother Earth may become far healthier when not under pollutant attack
And a healthy Earth means healthier people we have our priorities wrong
Mother Earth is not for us to destroy since to Mother Earth we belong
If job creation means more carbon emissions then to hell with job creation I say
If we continue to live the way we live we are on the self destruction way
Governments spending trillions in money on the faltering economies more pollution we are trying to create
For to save ourselves from self destruction one can say it is never too late.

An Earthly Utopia This Beautiful Place

The long range weather forecast is for warm and sunny and fine
The spotted doves coo in the morning sunshine
In the coastal park the song of the pee wee
In the warmth and quiet of the town by the sea.

Above the wide white beach in the sunlit sky
The coastal avian food beggars the silver gulls cry
Small waves of saltwater gently to the beach roll
The ocean this morning at peace in it's soul.

An Earthly Utopia this beautiful place
Where life it goes on at a quite relaxed pace
Though homes for to buy in this lovely place dear
I do envy those who can afford to live here.

I do wish that mine could be a longer stay
But tomorrow from here I must be on my way
But memories of the seaside town with me will remain
And in fancy I will visit it once again.

In A Place Far Away

A long way from here this far southern shore
From the high fields of Clara by old Claramore
Yet in my flights of fancy I hear the clear rill
Babble through Claraghatlea from it's home by the hill
The old fields that often inspired me to rhyme
Have not changed that much with the passing of time
And the birds by their song are not hard to recall
In the Natural landscape few changes at all
The scratchy notes one ought to never mistake
Of the dark brown white breasted dipper in the stream at daybreak
And birds in the grove sing in the prime of the May
Far north of this Land in a place far away
The past may be gone but the memories remain
And in fancy I walk in the old fields again.

The True Test Of Love

It is true action speaks louder than words can say
And to show our love each of us has our own way
And true love does not die as you grow old and gray
And a gift of flowers does not prove your love on Valentine's Day.

Of the praises of love you hear many sing
But true love as you know is not a one sided thing
Unrequited love it may linger for years
But for only one there is heartache and tears.

It is easy to say words such as I love you
But that does not prove your love for to be true
Love has inspired artists to sketch and poets to poetry and rhyme
But the true test of love is the great test of time.

It is a nice gesture one would have to suppose
For to give the one you love a flower or a rose
But cut flowers and roses are quiuck to decay
And false love does also quickly fade away.

Racism Is Born Of Ignorance

Wise words from a wise old fellow for as long as I live I'll recall
He said if you are a Racist to one Race then you are a racist to all
You cannot be a racist to one Race and claim you are not racist in any way
Few racists like to be called racist we are not racist you hear them say.

Racism is born of ignorance and ignorance we know to the ignorant is bliss
That difference make people more interesting the point of that some seem to miss
Our days can be measured in minutes and our lives can be measured in hours
And those we look on as different their blood is no less red than ours.

When some people talk of a fair go they do not mean a fair go for all
But a fair go for their own kind only in their ways some are very small
People should not be disadvantaged due to their place of birth or their Race
In the Human World of the future for such there will not be a place.

That I do pity those who are racist may seem quite a strange thing to say
In the darkness they surround themselves with they seem to be losing their way
In shaping the future of the Human World any part they are not destined to play
Their thinking it does seem outdated in the multicultural World of today.

A Visualization Of Semaphore

The wide beach and the long jetty two things I like about Semaphore
A beautiful Town by the ocean I say what has been said by others before
The long Streets of Semaphore Road that end at the beachfront of cafes and community clubs
In a place that is known for it's character and it's famous old hotels and pubs
An old coastal Town in South Australia a historical place worthy of note
Of endearing characters and cultural people and many an artist and musician and poet
A place that has inspired many a story and given rise to song, poetry and rhyme
Not a place for greedy developers it doesn't change much with the passing of time
The cooing of doves and the calls of the silver gulls and the familiar song of the pee wee
And the chattering of the willy wagtail in the sunlit park by the sea
And the beautiful flute like song of the Aussie magpie in the quiet just after sunrise
Great memories of visited beauty comes to me when I visualize
And often in my flights of fancy I return to old Semaphore
An old coastal Town in South Australia where beauty remains to the fore.

Suppose I Will Be Penning Stuff

What matter for my success or lack of it since I must die anyway
And my biological clock is ticking on I've known a better day
And what use now in any regret since regret is a waste of time
In the many hours I've seemingly wasted in the penning of reams of rhyme
Years ago as a younger person when I lived near Millstreet Town
I often had these foolish daydreams of literary renown
But daydreams from reality in distance far away
And time brings us some wisdom as some are known to say
And yet I go on penning rhyme though bugger all my gain
I have to be an addictive rhymer for how else can I explain
That I should persevere at such a thing when some close friends say to me
'Tis time that you tried your hand at something new and leave the poets to write poetry
But if I told them that I'd give rhyming away then that would be a lie
Suppose I will be penning stuff until the day I die.

We Are Only Human

We are only human when all is said and done
And it is quite impossible to like everyone
But tell me of one completely free of taint
And you are telling me you know of a living saint
What I am about to say here is surely nothing new
We all have our vices some of us have quite a few
And I do believe that 'tis a fair thing to say
That the most perfect of us are most imperfect in some way
And though maybe I'm wrong it does seem to me
That the imperfections we see in others in our own selves we see
We all look at life one might say differently
And our egos the barrier to humility
But we are what we are that is all we can be
And our flaws are a part of our humanity.

What Climate Change Is About

The farm dams low and the creeks are long dry
And no clouds of rain in the blue sunny sky
From the sun the cattle are sheltering in the shade of the trees
On a day in late Summer of thirty degrees
A four hours drive from here bushfires have left hundreds of people dead
And killed at least one million animals or so it is said
Have burnt a few thousand homes to the ground
And blackened the landscape for hundreds of kilometres around
And further north it has rained as never before
And many towns have been flooded for a month or more
In a Land that is ravaged by fire flooding and drought
We have come to know what climate change is about
And this just the start of it some of the well informed say
For carbon emissions the price huge to pay.

She Comes From The Place

She comes from the place where the green rushes grow
Where the Araglen waters to the Blackwater flow
A beautiful young woman in her life's prime
One might say of her on the right side of time
Her eyes are as blue as the ripe Autumn sloe
And her hair is as dark as the wing of a crow
With the warmth of friendliness in her hello
And beauty goes with her to where-ever she go
Young and single and happy and very carefree
Things cannot get much better for one of twenty three
The type who does make a new friend every day
The beautiful one from a place far away
And she never does yearn for the life she did know
In the green rushy fields where the Araglen flow.

Life Can Be Full Of Surprises

In the religious community he is seen as rather odd
He is looked on as a damned one the man without God
Doesn't go to house of worship at the weekend for to pray
For to be looked on as different there's some price for one to pay.

Of how his religious neighbours feel about him he is only too aware
But since he isn't one of their flock of their judgements of him he doesn't care
At the pub when he is merry he joins in the sing along
And he knows the words off by heart of many a bawdy song.

He lives on the street of all church goers which makes him the odd one out
But it doesn't seem to bother him if his neighbours his worth do doubt
In his prime in his mid twenties with many women in his life
And unbeknown to all one of them is the local Minister's wife.

Old enough to be his mother and to a very devout man wed
Her son and daughter in their twenties and her husband useless in bed
And though a religious person the bored housewife likes her fling
For to have a handsome virile younger lover for her an exciting thing.

He doesn't go to the house of worship on saturday evening or sunday
An agnostic or an atheist you can call him what you may
But the local Minister's wife without saying so thinks he is quite okay
Life can be full of surprises it has always been this way.

For As Long As You Give Life

For as long as you give life your very best try
And their right to a fair go others you don't deny
And you believe in the theory of receive and give
And stay loyal to the truth in the live and let live
Then you are one who can feel proud of who you are
And to find one more like you one might have to go far
For to help those in need of help you go out of your way
And you perform a good deed or two every day
There's more to success than becoming a billionaire
Though few of that fact do seem to be aware
Compassion and kindness are gifts that are rare
And those who are blessed with them for others genuinely care
And for as long as you are willing to help those of help in need
Then you are a very good person indeed.

He Lived To A Great Age

He lived to a great age he was ninety four
But sad to think him I will see never more
On the parkland pathway walking quite slow
He greeted friend and stranger with a cheerful hello
Pre-deceased by his wife by two decades of years
Though anytime he spoke of her he seemed close to tears
To him she was devoted and a loving wife
And he loved her as his soul mate and the love of his life
Ten times a great granddad his genes living on
And memories of him will live for years though the breath of life from him gone
He enjoyed human company and he could laugh at a joke
And he will be sadly missed by all who knew him the lovely old bloke
With his wife's remains his remains in the town cemetery lay
And for each one of us there's a last night and day.

To Me Empty Vessels

Though nowadays 'twould seem they are no longer rare
I never do find them that easy to bear
Those who tell everybody of how marvellous they are
And of their great job and their family and of the size of their car
Into self promotion in quite a big way
And though many do look on self praise as okay
To me empty vessels do make the most noise
Whoever said that one first was very wise
Why they even boast of self to strangers I do wonder why?
To them the word wisdom could never apply
No different to their mates at the local pub
They ought to call themselves ' The Self Promoters Club'
Of hearing them boasting I quickly do tire
As in them I don't see anything to admire.

In The Ageless Old Fields

A long way from here this far southern shore
To old Claraghatlea by the road to Rathmore
But the fields of my youth do not seem far away
For in fancy I do visit there every day.

In the ageless old fields where the rank rushes grow
The rivers often bank high to the Blackwater flow
In distance quite far but the memories remain
And in memory I walk on the home ground again.

The stormwater gurgling in the roadside drain
And the robin he sings in the wind and the rain
The Spring brings her wildflowers and blossoms of May
Though we must live in the now as some are known to say.

The silver billed magpie is fluting on the black wattle tree
And in the Townpark the bird known as pee wee
Is singing his song in the morning sunshine
In weather for months that has been warm and fine.

A Difference For The Better

Since to the higher self you are one who is true
Good Karma in plenty you surely are due
You do a good deed often two every day
And to help others out you go out of your way
Compassionate and caring and generous and kind
Your equal as a person would be hard to find
Yet you will never be the toast of the town
It is the arrogant only who do crave renown
Your worth as a good person none ought to deny
For to make a difference in the World your best you do try
Respect to all others you are known to pay
And you are none judgemental in every way
A difference for the better in the World you have made
Yet for you there never will be a parade.

About Her She Has Such A Beautiful Way

About her she has such a beautiful way
And fond memories of meeting her with me will stay
Her wavy hair dark as the wing of a crow
So lovely to look at and pleasant to know
Perhaps in her twenties in her prime of life
For some lucky bloke she will make a great wife
That is if she marries or so she decide
Since one can say of her she has time on her side
She seems quite happy in her nursing career
And her thoughts for her future do seem very clear
To care for the ill is all she does desire
So much about her that there is to admire
Perhaps she is one I may not see again
Though good memories of her with me will remain.

A Very Sad Thing For To Say

I did not cause the human population to grow
As I do not have any biological children of which I do know
But for environmental pollution I too am to blame
What we do to our Earth Mother is to all of our shame.

Climate change is for real but it doesn't cease to amaze
That we live on as usual we do not change our ways
We still drive big cars and we still burn coal
And carbon emissions seem out of control.

The environmental damage around us is not hard to see
And the finger of blame is also pointing at me
Of the black cloud of smog on the city skyline
I cannot say of that the problem is not mine.

Since carbon emissions I too help to create
And with the onset of climate change have we left it too late
To save our own kind from extinction since we are heading that way
And that does seem a very sad thing for to say.

The Human World We Live In

The Human World we live in is made up of every kind
And for every bad person many good you will find
And he or she is a living saint the one who is free of sin
But every good person whether they do or do not believe in God have their own God within
For to live as a good person is to do the best that one can
And that applies to every woman as well as to every man
Treat every person with respect of every Race and creed
You receive the fruits of the good Karma if you plant the good seed
The arrogant and corruptible who seek success by deception and greed
Are surely not the type of people that the Human World does need
But those who never put or try to drag others down and live in a just way
And treat everyone as an equal and respect to everybody pay
And believe in the principle on the 'fair go for all'
This person is worth knowing and his or her name is worthy of recall.

On Where Clara

On where Clara with the bracken face is ever looking down
I was born and raised in Claraghatlea a mile from Millstreet Town
In those old fields I penned my first verses
and daydreamed of renown
In the coolness of October when the leaves were turning brown
Penning rhyme as most will tell you is a hungry belly game
And I've never known of success and I've never known of fame
And though for myself as a rhymer I have never made a name
I keep on penning verses as I like it just the same
The songbirds of Duhallow by their songs I got to know
The tiny brown wren with the big bird song he sang in the hedgerow
And the chaffinch and the robin and the blackbird and the thrush
When the fields wore their wildflowers of April sung on every tree and bush
But far from the countryside near Millstreet Town I may live my final day
From the old fields of my boyhood more than half of a World away.

An Old And A Brown Country

An old and a brown Country in need of every bush and tree
With thistles in abundance and dry and bare as bare can be
Before the arrival of the first people this Land was very old
It's true history on paper it never will be told
Some call it a new Country those who do not understand
That it was even ancient before dinosaurs walked on land
We are like Nature's Seasons to life we come to and from go
And Nature lives forever that much of her we do know
Beneath the dry and hard earth in unmarked graves the Land's first people lay
A different land from their time is the land they knew today
It was a different Land then a Land of many trees
The strong stench of pollution not blowing in the breeze
It is an ancient Country the big Country out there
By the dry winds and warm sun of Summer left looking brown and bare.

Memories Of Largs Bay

A coastal Suburb of Adelaide delightful old Largs Bay
The beach from any street there just a short walk away
Eight months of the year nice warm weather such a livable place
The home of many happy people and many a sun bronzed face
On the long Largs Bay jetty that go one hundred metres out to sea
The cray and lobster fishers with their wire mesh catching pots a familiar sight to see
As above the Suburban coastal Town the shades of darkness crawl
At the quiet time of evening when day yields to nightfall
In Largs Bay in South Australia in the stillness of the night
You see and hear the tide flood the wide beach in the silver moonlight
In a factory free coastal Suburban Town such places nowadays rare
As an Earthly Utopia with any Largs Bay can compare
For as long as I live fond memories of the coastal Town I always will retain
And in my flights of fancy I vist there again.

In The Drought Ravaged Landscape

A landscape where even gums and wattles are rare
The brown and wide paddocks for lack of rain looking bare
The waterless creek bed and bone dry roadside drain
And the parched countryside is in need of rain
Where bush fires have been through survivors count the cost
And they mourn for lives of family and friends in the flames of death lost
Many grieve for burnt homes and dead animals though homes can be re-built
And many suffer from what's known as survivor guilt
Where the fires have been through blackness for miles around
Fire gutted and blackened trees and blackened burnt ground
And where the fires have not been through miles from the nearest town
The countryside looking so bare and so brown
Where the stunted gum trees refuse to grow tall
And where billions of dark ants on the sun baked ground crawl.

True Love In It's Prime

True love in it's prime is a beautiful thing
It's praises in poetry and song we do sing
But the great joy of love sometimes does end in tears
And the ache of lost love it can linger for years
The cross of unrequited love a love that is not rare
Of all of loves crosses the heaviest to bear
Forsaken in love have led some to suicide
And of love ache it is known that some even have died
The joy of love that does begin with a kiss
And that leads to moments of passion joy and bliss
Can often end in heartache and years of woe
Fifty years of love few are privileged to know
True love for many does not last a lifetime
Though love has been honoured in story, song and rhyme.

That Much About Nature

A tiny dark seed to a tall tree can grow
That much about Nature I can claim to know
Her secrets from us she keeps hidden away
Though from her we do learn something new every day.

The beauty of Nature for all to enjoy
And her I have loved since I was a young boy
And for as long as the breath of life in me remain
The love that I feel for her I will retain.

The longest human life in time not a lengthy span
And in ten years from now I will be an old man
But long after the last memory of my existence from memory has gone
Life which is part of Nature in the World will go on.

Deciduous trees lose their leaves in the Fall
But of Nature's ways I do know little at all
Her treasures are many her secrets not few
And each day from her we do learn something new.

Too Old To Work And Too Young To Die

That time catches up on us all is surely not a lie
He is too old to work and he is too young to die
On retirement pension and quite bored with life
He spends much of his time arguing with his wife
On their fortieth year of marriage and love between them long dead
With a son and daughter and seven grandchildren and old age ahead
Since the warm feelings of love in their life has gone cold
They have nothing to look forward to but growing old
He and his wife in their mid to late sixties and their best years long gone
And only the will to live keeps them living on
Years ago they used to walk hand in hand to the park off of the street
But nowadays out walking them one never does meet
On his own in the pub he sits and drinks his beer
Looking rather unhappy and lacking in cheer.

A Legend Of Rhyme

The poetess long dead but her words living on
Since she passed away many Seasons have come and have gone
The one who had penned many a memorable poem and song
To the long deceased legends she now does belong
With words she was one who did have a way
And in her songs and her poems she is living today
Her poetry says more of her than words could ever say
She even penned some marvelous poems when time had left her gray
She died in 1964 in her eighty fourth year
Her musical poetry when recited is such a joy to hear
In death it does seem that her legends does grow
In every line of poetry she penned her genius does show
The style of poetry has changed with the passage of time
But her name will live on as a legend of rhyme.

Down In The Saltpan Country

Down in the Saltpan Country the saltpans white as snow
You won't see many animals where only saltbush grow
All through the thirsty Summer the days are warm and long
In the dry and the bare countryside known as the Coorong
Met an old bloke at Meningie the Coorong countryside he know
He said that old Lake Albert has never been so low
The water has retreated far inland from the shore
He said I've never seen it as low as this before
Down in the Saltpan Country the water birds are rare
Of the dwindling wildlife numbers one cannot help but feel aware
In a healthy Natural environment wildlife numbers do abound
In the Coorong only more and larger saltpans for miles and miles around
Down in the Saltpan Country where only saltbush grow
The saltpans in the sunshine are gleaming white as snow.

You In Your Ways

Should it really matter what you think of me
I am an Irish person that is all I can be
Born and raised in Claraghatlea a mile from Millstreet Town
That remains as my only claim to renown.

In thirty five years of penning a good span of time
One can say I've written a whole heap of rhyme
And though many my stuff may not read or recite
I only write because I do love to write.

To Nature I try my best to be a friend
For our existence on her we do depend
Her secrets from us she has hidden away
And from her we do learn something new every day.

So little in common we have for to share
And what you think of me I am all too aware
We do look at life one can say differently
And you in your ways are quite different to me.

Well That Suits Me Fine

You say I am damned well that suits me fine
Save your own soul mister you cannot save mine
To worship the God you believe in you won't convert me
With your way of thinking I do not agree
The God that you say you serve you do not serve that well
He surely did not tell you to tell me that I am bound for hell
The God that you worship and to whom you are true
One would hope is not as judgemental as you
For my sins I am the one who has to pay
Save your own soul mister for your own salvation pray
I for one cannot say of a life beyond the grave
And I and I only my own soul can save
According to you I am destined for hell
And I must pay the price of the mere infidel.

True Aussie Heroes And Heroines

From Victoria's bushfires great stories we hear
Stories of great courage in the face of fear
Stories of generosity and selflessness of the catastrophe abound
When heroes and heroines are needed they are to be found
Where hundreds of people and more than a million animals have died
And more than two thousand homes have been destroyed
Of courage and generosity the many cannot be denied
The heroes and heroines of Victoria's blackened countryside
The fire fighters and volunteers who risked their lives for others to save
Where courage is needed you will find the brave
The people who gave homes to the homeless the men and women who helped in every way
These are the true heroes and heroines of Australia's blackest ever day
The Aussie generosity and courage one has to admire
It surely did surface in Victoria's monster fire.

On Most Subject Matters

On most subject matters we do disagree
But your life is as important to you as my life is to me
On that one matter there's little doubt you and I
Without reservation do see eye to eye
And though the facts tell us so and facts never lie
That we are mere mortals and born to die
And a century not much more a very long human life span
So one ought to live on for as long as one can
Conservative in your ways and thinking as opposed to me
But suppose we all look at life in ways differently
On few things you and I eye to eye does see
If we all thought in the same way how boring we would be
But even in opposites some sameness is to be found
We both do fear death that is our common ground.

Victoria's Fires

So many with heavy life crosses to bear
Where their homes once were blackness everywhere
And galvanize roofing iron and walls burnt to the ground
And blackness from the fierce flames for many miles around
Tears for family members and friends who died in the huge fire
That burnt it's way through many a town and shire
Tears for dead pets and livestock and possessions lost
The flames of death and destruction had come at a huge cost
Some of the fires the work of arsonists or so it has been said
The one who would do such a thing cannot be right in the head
More than 80 people unaccounted for most of them feared to be dead
Add that to the 210 human lives lost and the burn victims in their hundreds of which I have read
More than a million livestock and pets and wildlife have died
In the great fires that blackened most of Victoria's countryside.

The Price Of Dead Love

His marriage is over but he has no tears
For the woman he was married to for just over two years
Though he miss his baby daughter when he comes home from work at night
In his marriage she was his one source of delight.

She is with his ex wife her mother who lives with her new man
And for him in her life his ex has only one plan
That he pay his alimony to her on Friday of every week
They no longer have common ground on which to speak.

On their wedding day he thought 'twould be for life
He was so in love with his beautiful wife
But just after two years of marriage love between them is dead
That the ways of love can be fickle no truer words said.

That his ex wife has left him for another he finds that as okay
But he misses his baby daughter when he comes home from work every day
That life has it's ups and downs it's always been this way
And the price of dead love it can be high to pay.

Down By The Port River

Down by the Port River on a February day
In the blue sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
The silver gulls called in the fresh coastal air
And a lovely young woman with blond shoulder length hair
Was singing a song of Australia the Land of eucalypt trees
With the lilt of joy in her brown eyes and her hair tossing in the breeze
That blew up from the Pacific Ocean on a beautiful and bright Summer's day
From the famous Town of Port Adelaide the sea is just a short drive away
As I walked by the old Port River I heard the song of the pee wee
And the silver billed magpie was piping on a wattle tree
And I was just a passing stranger a fellow from a distant shore
A long way from Port Adelaide and the beach at Semaphore
But memories last a lifetime and the memory will remain
Of the young beauty by the Port River when I visit the past again.

You Who Give Nasty Comments

You who give nasty comments it does seem to me
That your own shortcomings you do fail to see
To hurt others feelings with your words to you seems okay
The fool never learns as some are known to say
You may think you are clever but you are not wise
That others have feelings you don't seem to realize
For to hurt someone's feelings the chance you don't miss
But ignorance to your sort seems heavenly bliss
Doubtless you are talented but does that give you the right
To look on anyone not blessed as you are as a lesser light
So many look up to you but it does seem sad to say
That for the feelings of others respect you've not yet learned to pay
I recall by a wise woman I was once told
That some people don't grow wise they merely grow old.

The Man From Kanturk

He has shorn in the shearing sheds south east of Burke
The man from far north from the fields of Kanturk
The flat countryside in the heart of Duhallow
Where he left seven years back his life dreams for to follow.

He has worked on building sites in Brisbane, Sydney, Melbourne and Adelaide
And what is known as easy money he has never made
And north west of Perth in the tropics he worked on a water pipe-line
In temperatures that seldom ever dropped below a warm twenty nine.

In Darwin for a spell sewerage pipes he did lay
In humid conditions he sweated for his pay
From the warm Aussie sun his skin is bronzed brown
The man from North Cork from near old Kanturk Town.

A man in his late twenties and in his life's prime
He has made love to his share of women over seven years of time
And since he left Duhallow at the Station at Banteer
He has drunk lots of hard liquor and plenty of beer.

Those You Give An Inch To

Those you give an inch to who do take a yard
Are the self centred people the hardest of the hard
They know how to take and receive but they don't know how to give
This is the only way they do know how to live
For their partners and their children and few friends some thought they do spare
But of the feelings of others they do not seem aware
Their worth to humanity one has to doubt
The people the Human World could do without
They are life's survivors for to give them their due
But to the higher self they could never be true
To hell with all others me and mine are okay
Suppose they cannot help it if they think in this way
In a World where millioins cry out for a feed
They live for themselves and they serve their own need.

It Is A Brown Old Countryside

It is a brown old countryside the countryside out there
As far as the human eyes can see the paddocks brown everywhere
The few stunted growing old green gum trees a contrast midst the brown
Some 40 k's or even more to the nearest country town.

In the bare sun bronzed old countryside few animals to be seen
And by the highway searching for seeds red rumped parrots mostly light green
One of the few species of birds to be seen in a landscape dry and bare
Where save for insects other life forms to say the least seem rare.

The creeks are dry for miles around and bone dry the roadside drain
The drought ravaged bare countryside could do with lots of rain
The landscape artists they have sketched it and it has inspired the bards to rhyme
It was an old Land very old even back in the Dreamtime.

The ways of Nature I admit I struggle to understand
Saltbush, brown shrub and stunted trees in the old sun bronzed Land
In a Land where few birds do reside bird-song is a rare thing
And only the hardiest of wildflowers bloom in the dry country's Spring.

The Tough Old Boy

Too old to jog fast though jogging he enjoy
The one known to many as 'the tough old boy'
And though in his mid seventies and his hair silver gray
He jogs in the park for an hour every day
His wife says of him he's not right in the head
One day whilst out jogging he will surely drop dead
For fifty two years they've lived as man and wife
Though love it does seem has gone out of their life
Their oldest grandchild in her early twenties and their better days gone
And old father time on them is ticking on
Every morning he rises from bed in the dark
And jogs in the dawn for an hour in the park
His wife says he's not grown any wiser only old and gray
He surely will drop dead whilst jogging one day.

No Two Are The Same

A different sort of childhood you and I did know
I am from the place where the Blackwater flow
Through old rushy fields and by ditch and hedgerow
In the land of the rook and the gray hooded crow.

You are from the southern coastal town
Of beautiful women from the sun bronzed brown
Fond memories of such in your thoughts you retain
And you yearn for what was and the old life again.

No two are the same as some are known to say
We all look at life in a different way
You yearn for the town where the silver gulls call
And I for the fields where the rushes grow tall.

Though in some ways similar things we embrace
We both have been blessed with a strong love of place
You visualize your surfing days in your town by the sea
And the northern mountains ever beckoning me.

On The Subject Of An Afterlife

On the subject of an Afterlife of hell
For the earthly sinners I'd rather not dwell
Since billions of poor people do live in their Earthly hell
in a World where some see
It as a sin for to live in poverty they are suffering for their Earthly sins though with that you do not agree
Do you believe that the prophesy of the meek the earth shall inherit to them does not apply
Since any sort of a reasonable existence the greedy super rich of them choose to deny
The minority who live in an Earthly Heaven who take but never give
Those who believe that the World is their's and do not subscribe to live and let live
Hell on Earth for the billions in poverty should be enough punishment for their sins the price they do pay
But you believe in the Hereafter all sinners must suffer whilst their bones here on Earth do decay
And as for the poor man who steals to feed his children the gates of heaven he won't enter in
Than the Corporate crim who out of greed steals millions that his is really not a lesser sin
On the subject of the Afterlife with you I will not argue since you have your opinions and that does suit me fine
And as for me I too have my opinions and your's are very different to mine.

For One In His Mid Seventies

The years are telling on him his balding head is gray
The old man in his seventies from the Northlands far away
The young man of the sixties his better years long gone
And only his great lust for life itself that keeps him living on.

Of life he has many stories at the pub as he drinks his ales
He talks of his shearing days in Northern New South Wales
The shearing sheds were hot and humid as he sweated for his pay
In the pubs at night he slaked his thirst that he'd built up through the day.

He has had his share of women to his life they came and went
And the money that he worked hard for on love and booze he spent
He says he has not fathered children though for sure he does not know
The man who spent his boyhood near the hill where bracken grow.

Of a life of great adventure great stories he has to tell
And as an autobiography thousands of copies it would sell
To a race of survivors he surely does belong
And for one in his mid seventies he is looking fit and strong.

A Great Person Indeed

If there's a God that God in her does live
So much of herself to others she does give
She is always helping those of help in need
Far more than good a great person indeed
Hard knocks in life one can say she has known
Lost her husband in a work related accident raised their child on her own
In her mid forties her work free time she devote
To helping those in need of help she is one worthy of note
She does a good deed or two every day
The quiet achiever in her own quiet way
More than a good person she is truly great
Yet people like her the masses never celebrate
Joy to the hearts of poor souls she does bring
And her praises I am very happy for to sing.

In Fancy The Song Of The Dipper

In fancy the song of the dipper I hear
The river he sings in to my thoughts are near
With snow white breast and mostly dark brown
As he sing on a rock midst the rapids he bobs up and down
A beautiful to look at bird with a plain enough song
Once seen and once heard him you never get wrong
As birds go one might say a stranger to renown
He lives and breeds in the river that flows by the town
It is part of his natural duty for him to help his dipper wife
For to raise their young dippers for a river life
And in Seasons from now when the life from him long gone
The song of the dipper in the river lives on
In fancy I can hear him singing today
And the river he sings in from me doesn't seem far away.

Posthumous Fame

Some become wealthy and famous in the easy way
But for some 'tis much harder that's life as some say
And some are born as anonymous and poor and that's how they remain
In the Human World many destined for to lose for a few for to gain
And one fact of human life since facts never lie
Is that some become famous after they die
But long after you die if many your greatness does recall
To you that will not be of any value at all
What use to the dead when the living remember them for their fame
Since anonymity and renown to them all the same
When their praises are sung the dead cannot hear
They are past joy and laughter and sorrow and fear
Posthumous fame of no use to the dead
I am only saying here what has often been said.