Self conceited and self opinionated are like bonded sister and brother
One might say of them they do go well together
Humility with them is way out of fashion
The love of self only is their only passion
Conceited and opinionated in the ego created
The sole property of those by self over-rated
They think their opinions are all that should matter
And on the praises of others their egos grow fatter
Some of them even pretend for to be kind and caring
I find them to say the least quite over-bearing
I may sound like one into generalizing
I too have my human flaws that should not seem surprising
But still self conceited and self opinionated people are bonded sister and brother
But then suppose what i dislike in myself i would not like in another.
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
Millstreet's Last Old Fashioned Rhymer
I may die as I live without much to my name
To be Millstreet's last old fashioned rhymer my one claim to minor fame
The word poet never does apply to such as me
The stuff i pen born to mortality.
From the countryside by Clara I've been too long away
I would feel a stranger in Millstreet today
A stranger in Claraghatlea and Millstreet Town
Where i once did know of some local renown.
When Clara wore a hat of December snow
I left the old Parish twenty three years ago
A cold wintery wind from the mountains did blow
And Finnow in brown flood waters bank high did flow.
Through rushy fields wet after recent heavy rain
The old river swollen by dyke and by drain
In old places that often inspired me to rhyme
But that is going back a few decades in time.
The babes of the eighties into adults did grow
And in Millstreet nowadays many i would not know
From the fields he once loved far south and far away
Millstreet's last old fashioned rhymer is aging and gray
To be Millstreet's last old fashioned rhymer my one claim to minor fame
The word poet never does apply to such as me
The stuff i pen born to mortality.
From the countryside by Clara I've been too long away
I would feel a stranger in Millstreet today
A stranger in Claraghatlea and Millstreet Town
Where i once did know of some local renown.
When Clara wore a hat of December snow
I left the old Parish twenty three years ago
A cold wintery wind from the mountains did blow
And Finnow in brown flood waters bank high did flow.
Through rushy fields wet after recent heavy rain
The old river swollen by dyke and by drain
In old places that often inspired me to rhyme
But that is going back a few decades in time.
The babes of the eighties into adults did grow
And in Millstreet nowadays many i would not know
From the fields he once loved far south and far away
Millstreet's last old fashioned rhymer is aging and gray
A Silent Relationship
A non speaking relationship is with one by sight you know
Though not any form of recognition between you does show
Between you and him or her it is never good evening, night or good day
You both pass by in silence with nothing to say
They have never harmed you in any way
Yet he or she pass you in silence and for their silence them you repay
Is this a karmic connection or what might it be
Or is the fault for this a flaw that is in me?
Yet people who greet me with a cheerful hello
Are people that i do feel happy to know
Wherever i do see them in the park or the street
They are people i do feel happy to meet
But a silent relationship i have with a few
Though to that some might say tell us something that's new.
Though not any form of recognition between you does show
Between you and him or her it is never good evening, night or good day
You both pass by in silence with nothing to say
They have never harmed you in any way
Yet he or she pass you in silence and for their silence them you repay
Is this a karmic connection or what might it be
Or is the fault for this a flaw that is in me?
Yet people who greet me with a cheerful hello
Are people that i do feel happy to know
Wherever i do see them in the park or the street
They are people i do feel happy to meet
But a silent relationship i have with a few
Though to that some might say tell us something that's new.
The Coorong In Climate Change
In the bare lands of saltpans where the brown Murray flow
Where few creatures live and only saltbush grow
Where Australia's First people lived in the Dreamtime
Long before the first book was written and the birth of rhyme
On this ancient Land Climate Change has taken toll
Too late for the Coorong now damage control
The saltpans growing bigger saltbush everywhere
The Coorong more drought stricken and drier since i last was there
The creeks that used to feed the Murray are lifeless and dry
And the sun like a furnace blaze in the blue sky
Apart from the saltbush the Coorong looks bare
And there's not enough of grass here for to feed a hare
Where the first Australians lived and hunted and had their Corroborees
Only dry lakes, dry creeks and saltpans and stunted dead trees.
Where few creatures live and only saltbush grow
Where Australia's First people lived in the Dreamtime
Long before the first book was written and the birth of rhyme
On this ancient Land Climate Change has taken toll
Too late for the Coorong now damage control
The saltpans growing bigger saltbush everywhere
The Coorong more drought stricken and drier since i last was there
The creeks that used to feed the Murray are lifeless and dry
And the sun like a furnace blaze in the blue sky
Apart from the saltbush the Coorong looks bare
And there's not enough of grass here for to feed a hare
Where the first Australians lived and hunted and had their Corroborees
Only dry lakes, dry creeks and saltpans and stunted dead trees.
Since I Left Millstreet In Duhallow
It has been many years since i left Millstreet in Duhallow
To travel far south my life's dreams for to follow
Yet I'm poorer than ever and far off of glory
Though like all others to tell i too have a life story.
In fancy on Clara in July's warm weather
I eat ripened whortleberries the blue fruits of the heather
The skylark above me towards the cloud World is winging
The mountain air full of his beautiful singing.
On a stone midst the stream that babbles to the river
The white breasted dipper his song does deliver
His kind swim underwater in search of tiny life forms
They sing before rain and they sing in the storms.
Far from old friends and family in this Land of the great Southern ocean
Of making a name for myself i had this silly notion
From the old ties that bound me to Millstreet i choose for to sever
But my life's destiny has left me poorer than ever.
To travel far south my life's dreams for to follow
Yet I'm poorer than ever and far off of glory
Though like all others to tell i too have a life story.
In fancy on Clara in July's warm weather
I eat ripened whortleberries the blue fruits of the heather
The skylark above me towards the cloud World is winging
The mountain air full of his beautiful singing.
On a stone midst the stream that babbles to the river
The white breasted dipper his song does deliver
His kind swim underwater in search of tiny life forms
They sing before rain and they sing in the storms.
Far from old friends and family in this Land of the great Southern ocean
Of making a name for myself i had this silly notion
From the old ties that bound me to Millstreet i choose for to sever
But my life's destiny has left me poorer than ever.
Monday, July 29, 2013
Cliques
Apart in my ways from cliques i have grown
one reason perhaps to many I'm not known
I respect everybody though disrespect to me by some shown
I live in my own way and my life is my own
You may be the nicest person in the town
But always a few there for to drag you down
Who of you will find negative things for to say
It is part of Humanity some are that way
In every village, town and city in the big World out there
Cliques are a thing you will find everywhere
They live all around the Globe from Timbuctoo to Rome
And even on the Worldwide web they do seem quite at home
To my individuality i try my best to cling
I live in my own way and i do my own thing.
one reason perhaps to many I'm not known
I respect everybody though disrespect to me by some shown
I live in my own way and my life is my own
You may be the nicest person in the town
But always a few there for to drag you down
Who of you will find negative things for to say
It is part of Humanity some are that way
In every village, town and city in the big World out there
Cliques are a thing you will find everywhere
They live all around the Globe from Timbuctoo to Rome
And even on the Worldwide web they do seem quite at home
To my individuality i try my best to cling
I live in my own way and i do my own thing.
The Wonderful Lady
She is not young and pretty and flushed by conceit
The wonderful lady the pride of our street
To help others out she goes out of her way
And ill words of anyone you never hear her say
A grandmother four times her husband long dead
But she does not dwell in the past nor does she look ahead
Her hair silver gray to pride she does not bow
One who lives in the moment the here and the now
On any poor person's face she would not slam her door
At every local charity fund raiser she is to the fore
She does not need others her praises to sing
Just helping the needy joy to her does bring
A true unsung heroine in her own quiet way
One i do see often though not every day.
The wonderful lady the pride of our street
To help others out she goes out of her way
And ill words of anyone you never hear her say
A grandmother four times her husband long dead
But she does not dwell in the past nor does she look ahead
Her hair silver gray to pride she does not bow
One who lives in the moment the here and the now
On any poor person's face she would not slam her door
At every local charity fund raiser she is to the fore
She does not need others her praises to sing
Just helping the needy joy to her does bring
A true unsung heroine in her own quiet way
One i do see often though not every day.
My Mum Was From Kerry
My mum was from Kerry from near the Town of Rathmore
But when Cork against the Kingdom kick a winning score
I do feel delighted and so full of cheer
That i mark the occasion with a Carlton beer,
When Kerry beat Cork in the All Ireland Final last year
At the news i felt so disappointed that i shed a quiet tear
And though they lost to the far better team on the day
That was not a consolation not in any way
Like i say by the better team on the day we were beat
But most Corkonians are known to be graceful in defeat
In the veins of Cork people the rebel blood flow
And the white flag of surrender they never do show
It will not be too long till The Rebels win Sam Maguire
And in every Cork town and village there will be a bonfire.
But when Cork against the Kingdom kick a winning score
I do feel delighted and so full of cheer
That i mark the occasion with a Carlton beer,
When Kerry beat Cork in the All Ireland Final last year
At the news i felt so disappointed that i shed a quiet tear
And though they lost to the far better team on the day
That was not a consolation not in any way
Like i say by the better team on the day we were beat
But most Corkonians are known to be graceful in defeat
In the veins of Cork people the rebel blood flow
And the white flag of surrender they never do show
It will not be too long till The Rebels win Sam Maguire
And in every Cork town and village there will be a bonfire.
He Is Surfing Again
He miss the surf beach of the town by the sea
Where he surfed with his mates when younger and carefree
Often tossed from his surfboard covered in the big wave
Nowadays he feels that he might not be so brave
In fancy he can hear the mighty waves roar
As they splash on the volcanic rocks on the shore
His Hometown from where he live may be far away
But great love of the coastal lands in him does stay
In his early forties with a wife and two teenage daughters a decade past his prime
His once brown hair graying and receding he's showing the wear of time
On our journeys through life destiny has a say
He feels he might feel a stranger in his Hometown today
But in his flights of fancy he is surfing again
And fond memories of what was with him does remain.
Where he surfed with his mates when younger and carefree
Often tossed from his surfboard covered in the big wave
Nowadays he feels that he might not be so brave
In fancy he can hear the mighty waves roar
As they splash on the volcanic rocks on the shore
His Hometown from where he live may be far away
But great love of the coastal lands in him does stay
In his early forties with a wife and two teenage daughters a decade past his prime
His once brown hair graying and receding he's showing the wear of time
On our journeys through life destiny has a say
He feels he might feel a stranger in his Hometown today
But in his flights of fancy he is surfing again
And fond memories of what was with him does remain.
John Twomey Was Duhallow's Poet Laureate
John Twomey was Duhallow's Poet Laureate when i was a primary school-going boy
And his songs and poems of local successes filled many local hearts with joy
We missed him when he emigrated for there was none to take his place
His rhyming lines were full of beauty the last of an old bardic race
A natural poet in the true sense the rhymes from his pen seemed to flow
In Duhallow in the nineteen fifties as a poet his stature did grow
But the lust of the wander was in him the lure of the big World out there
And sad to say our poet he did leave us he went off for to live elsewhere
The best of his time in Duhallow in that I'm not saying anything new
John Twomey was poet of the people and poets as we know are quite few
He did pen some memorable poetry the best of the best in his day
And we missed him when he left Duhallow where he would not grow old and gray
It must be quite close to five decades since John Twomey was in his prime
To when he was Duhallow's Poet Laureate one has to go far back in time.
And his songs and poems of local successes filled many local hearts with joy
We missed him when he emigrated for there was none to take his place
His rhyming lines were full of beauty the last of an old bardic race
A natural poet in the true sense the rhymes from his pen seemed to flow
In Duhallow in the nineteen fifties as a poet his stature did grow
But the lust of the wander was in him the lure of the big World out there
And sad to say our poet he did leave us he went off for to live elsewhere
The best of his time in Duhallow in that I'm not saying anything new
John Twomey was poet of the people and poets as we know are quite few
He did pen some memorable poetry the best of the best in his day
And we missed him when he left Duhallow where he would not grow old and gray
It must be quite close to five decades since John Twomey was in his prime
To when he was Duhallow's Poet Laureate one has to go far back in time.
Sunday, July 28, 2013
On Yellow Tail Black Cockatoos
The funeral birds known to some as whilst others do call them weerloo
But the name they are known to by many is the yellow tail black cockatoo
They live mostly on the dark seeds of the pine cones that they shred with their strong thick bills
Their familiar wee yu calls unmistakeable as they fly above the wooded hills
Big dark brown parrots with yellow outer tail feathers not at all hard to recognize
In small flocks they fly at a slow pace unmistakeable in their familiar cries
They brood their white eggs high in a tree cavity only one chick out of two does survive
It does seem the law of their Nature that the weak must die for the strong to thrive
Their calls never do seem to vary wee yu is all they seem to say
They are birds that i do see often though of the week not every day
To make way for development too many pines are being removed developers about wild life don't care
And it is said that the yellow tail black cockies because of this becoming rare
Many creatures are becoming endangered and all because of human greed
Those who for financial gain destroy habitat for wild-life are guilty of a grave crime indeed.
But the name they are known to by many is the yellow tail black cockatoo
They live mostly on the dark seeds of the pine cones that they shred with their strong thick bills
Their familiar wee yu calls unmistakeable as they fly above the wooded hills
Big dark brown parrots with yellow outer tail feathers not at all hard to recognize
In small flocks they fly at a slow pace unmistakeable in their familiar cries
They brood their white eggs high in a tree cavity only one chick out of two does survive
It does seem the law of their Nature that the weak must die for the strong to thrive
Their calls never do seem to vary wee yu is all they seem to say
They are birds that i do see often though of the week not every day
To make way for development too many pines are being removed developers about wild life don't care
And it is said that the yellow tail black cockies because of this becoming rare
Many creatures are becoming endangered and all because of human greed
Those who for financial gain destroy habitat for wild-life are guilty of a grave crime indeed.
John Mullane
John Mullane was a Coolikerane farmer where he lived with his three daughters and his wife
He was a fellow with a love of horses the equines played a large part in his life
'Twas sad enough for to read of his passing amongst the deceased of Millstreet his remains now lay
But none of us are born to live forever for all of us a final night and day
The World was better for him living in it of him that would be a fair thing to say
If there's a Horses Heaven he is nearby from equines he could not live far away
I have known a few people who have loved horses with dog people they do share common ground
And the John Mullanes who trade in and love horses in every part of Ireland to be found
He will never more be seen at the horse fairs in September and March in nearby Millstreet Town
Or in his car on the Coolikerane road where with horses in horse box he often drove up and down
Our different interests do make us more interesting we would seem boring if our interests were the same
In my younger years when people talked of horse people John Mullane's was an often mentioned name
He will not be seen again at Millstreet horse fairs on the first day of Spring or the first day of The Fall
Perhaps he's living now near Horses Heaven for such a place would suit him best of all.
He was a fellow with a love of horses the equines played a large part in his life
'Twas sad enough for to read of his passing amongst the deceased of Millstreet his remains now lay
But none of us are born to live forever for all of us a final night and day
The World was better for him living in it of him that would be a fair thing to say
If there's a Horses Heaven he is nearby from equines he could not live far away
I have known a few people who have loved horses with dog people they do share common ground
And the John Mullanes who trade in and love horses in every part of Ireland to be found
He will never more be seen at the horse fairs in September and March in nearby Millstreet Town
Or in his car on the Coolikerane road where with horses in horse box he often drove up and down
Our different interests do make us more interesting we would seem boring if our interests were the same
In my younger years when people talked of horse people John Mullane's was an often mentioned name
He will not be seen again at Millstreet horse fairs on the first day of Spring or the first day of The Fall
Perhaps he's living now near Horses Heaven for such a place would suit him best of all.
Showing Off His Affluence
Showing off his affluence on the streets of the town
In his brand new mercedes he drives up and down
The smug look on his face is not hard for to see
Even for one not very observant like me
For his affluent lifestyle credit he is due
And of him if i sound a bit jealous this well might be true
But the smug look on his face to me only does say
That her feels superior to me in every way
Suppose i ought not to judge him for the expensive car he does drive
But in a World where millions struggle to survive
I can't help but feeling that with a less expensive car he might do
Since his wife and their only offspring a daughter of twenty drive expensive cars too
Showing off his expensive new model he looks self satisfied
But then he is entitled to his sense of pride.
In his brand new mercedes he drives up and down
The smug look on his face is not hard for to see
Even for one not very observant like me
For his affluent lifestyle credit he is due
And of him if i sound a bit jealous this well might be true
But the smug look on his face to me only does say
That her feels superior to me in every way
Suppose i ought not to judge him for the expensive car he does drive
But in a World where millions struggle to survive
I can't help but feeling that with a less expensive car he might do
Since his wife and their only offspring a daughter of twenty drive expensive cars too
Showing off his expensive new model he looks self satisfied
But then he is entitled to his sense of pride.
Yes Money Speaks Every Language
Before you go there a fee in money to pay
For your small square of ground where the dead people lay
That money speaks every language is surely not a lie
You need it to live and you need it to die
Some people say all people are equal in God's eyes maybe
Though the God they talk of is the God we can't see
But in reality equality does not exist
The pauper's name is not on the successful list
To those who dream of an egalitarian Human World respect is due
But sad for them their dream will never come true
The cause of the widening social divide
Is money and that never can be denied
Yes money speaks every language despite what some do say
That is how it is and that is how it will stay.
For your small square of ground where the dead people lay
That money speaks every language is surely not a lie
You need it to live and you need it to die
Some people say all people are equal in God's eyes maybe
Though the God they talk of is the God we can't see
But in reality equality does not exist
The pauper's name is not on the successful list
To those who dream of an egalitarian Human World respect is due
But sad for them their dream will never come true
The cause of the widening social divide
Is money and that never can be denied
Yes money speaks every language despite what some do say
That is how it is and that is how it will stay.
An Act Of Nature Gave Life To Me
An act of Nature gave life to me and my remains with Nature will lay
For i feel the years catching up on me i have known a far better day
That death is part of life and Nature is factual and fact as we know never lie
The clock on our lives ever ticking like all mortals we are born to die
Some famous people for centuries live on in human history but history too has it's use by date
They too died like all other mortals though they were looked up to as great
Only Nature herself lives forever her Seasons to her come and go
The wildflower that bloom in late Summer will have died weeks before the sloe
Will have ripened to blue on the blackthorn in the chilly days of late Fall
The fate of the sloe and the wildflower is the fate that awaits us all
Some might say that going back three decades does seem a far bit back in time
But on looking back three decade not long when i was just beyond life's prime
The clock on my life keeps on ticking and ticking and ticking away
And for me like all other life forms there will be a last night and last day.
For i feel the years catching up on me i have known a far better day
That death is part of life and Nature is factual and fact as we know never lie
The clock on our lives ever ticking like all mortals we are born to die
Some famous people for centuries live on in human history but history too has it's use by date
They too died like all other mortals though they were looked up to as great
Only Nature herself lives forever her Seasons to her come and go
The wildflower that bloom in late Summer will have died weeks before the sloe
Will have ripened to blue on the blackthorn in the chilly days of late Fall
The fate of the sloe and the wildflower is the fate that awaits us all
Some might say that going back three decades does seem a far bit back in time
But on looking back three decade not long when i was just beyond life's prime
The clock on my life keeps on ticking and ticking and ticking away
And for me like all other life forms there will be a last night and last day.
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Those Wonderful Portuguese Dancers
Those wonderful Portuguese dancers to the music of the Portuguese band dance and sway
In Warrnambool in Park Lake Pertobe on beautiful Portuguese Day
Some of them well beyond their twenties and showing their Seasons in gray
Compared to their's my legs seem leaden as if they are moulded to clay.
On the very last day of Summer the weather is breezy and bright
It sure is a pleasure to watch them dancing in the evening sunlight
They dance not for money but pleasure dance is such a marvelous thing
Just watching them is so enjoyable their praises i feel glad to sing.
The Portuguese music so lively it floats in the Lake Pertobe air
The Portuguese musicians outstanding the Portuguese dancers have flair
So much beauty in their every movement each dance ends to a lusty cheer
For the enjoyment of their audience they have traveled miles to reach here.
Those wonderful Portuguese dancers for them let us hear the hooray
In these simple lines i do thank them for bringing such joy to my day
Dancing to lively Portuguese music a beauty lovely to behold
The descendants of great musicians and dancers their's is a beauty that never grows old.
In Warrnambool in Park Lake Pertobe on beautiful Portuguese Day
Some of them well beyond their twenties and showing their Seasons in gray
Compared to their's my legs seem leaden as if they are moulded to clay.
On the very last day of Summer the weather is breezy and bright
It sure is a pleasure to watch them dancing in the evening sunlight
They dance not for money but pleasure dance is such a marvelous thing
Just watching them is so enjoyable their praises i feel glad to sing.
The Portuguese music so lively it floats in the Lake Pertobe air
The Portuguese musicians outstanding the Portuguese dancers have flair
So much beauty in their every movement each dance ends to a lusty cheer
For the enjoyment of their audience they have traveled miles to reach here.
Those wonderful Portuguese dancers for them let us hear the hooray
In these simple lines i do thank them for bringing such joy to my day
Dancing to lively Portuguese music a beauty lovely to behold
The descendants of great musicians and dancers their's is a beauty that never grows old.
Of Her One Can't Say I've Said All I Can Say
Of her one can't say I've said all i can say
From Nature we learn something new every day
Her beauty we don't have to pay for to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
Her beauty the writers and artists inspire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
The songbird who sings high on the leafy tree
Does not sing for joy but to proclaim territory
All of life forms including humans off of her do live
From her we take and take and to her little give
Disrespect to her other life forms we are known to show
But the Karma we'll reap is the Karma we'll sow
Her secrets are many and her wonders not few
And every day from her we do learn something new.
From Nature we learn something new every day
Her beauty we don't have to pay for to see
It is all around you and it is all around me
Her beauty the writers and artists inspire
And of singing her praises one never could tire
The songbird who sings high on the leafy tree
Does not sing for joy but to proclaim territory
All of life forms including humans off of her do live
From her we take and take and to her little give
Disrespect to her other life forms we are known to show
But the Karma we'll reap is the Karma we'll sow
Her secrets are many and her wonders not few
And every day from her we do learn something new.
The Very Thought Of Death I Do Fear
The very thought of death I do fear
And i welcome the birth of every new year
For i know it might well be my last
As time it keeps on ticking fast
Yes time it does keep ticking away
And for all of us a last night and day
Many believe in a life after death
Or is that it when we draw our last breath?
Though death brings an end to life's worries and stress,
I fear the darkness of nothingness
It is a fact and facts don't lie
That humans are born to die
Just like the cow or dog or sheep
Each sleep nearer to our last sleep.
And i welcome the birth of every new year
For i know it might well be my last
As time it keeps on ticking fast
Yes time it does keep ticking away
And for all of us a last night and day
Many believe in a life after death
Or is that it when we draw our last breath?
Though death brings an end to life's worries and stress,
I fear the darkness of nothingness
It is a fact and facts don't lie
That humans are born to die
Just like the cow or dog or sheep
Each sleep nearer to our last sleep.
Whoever Said The World Is Small
I've traveled far from my old home
Yet I've not been to Paris or Rome
Just two of the many Cities i have not seen
Yet I have traveled in places brown and green
Though many have seen far more than me
I write of the beauty i see
Though time on my life ticks on ceaselessly
I'm getting on in years sixty three
It is a big World the World out there
And not one who has been to everywhere
Whoever said the World is small
When it is quite huge overall
From the stream of the brown mountain trout
One might say I've ventured far south.
Yet I've not been to Paris or Rome
Just two of the many Cities i have not seen
Yet I have traveled in places brown and green
Though many have seen far more than me
I write of the beauty i see
Though time on my life ticks on ceaselessly
I'm getting on in years sixty three
It is a big World the World out there
And not one who has been to everywhere
Whoever said the World is small
When it is quite huge overall
From the stream of the brown mountain trout
One might say I've ventured far south.
Just Some Names Of Sports Legends
The G A A fans have their own heroes of for to sing
In Gaelic Football Mick O Connell in Hurling Christy Ring
In Boxing Sugar Ray Robinson knew of Worldwide fame
And Babe Ruth's lives on as a great Baseball name
In Soccer Maradona and Pele and George Best
Were never found to be wanting when put to the test
And in Tennis Maureen Connolly the legendary Little Mo
The greatest of her time six decades ago
The A F L fans have Leigh Matthews for to talk about
Their game's greatest player though that not without doubt
And golf has Norman, Nicklaus, Woods, Watson and Gary Player
Of their game's major honors they took the lion's share
And athletics have Nurmi and Zatopek, Owens and Flo Jo
Legends that most sports fans of surely would know.
In Gaelic Football Mick O Connell in Hurling Christy Ring
In Boxing Sugar Ray Robinson knew of Worldwide fame
And Babe Ruth's lives on as a great Baseball name
In Soccer Maradona and Pele and George Best
Were never found to be wanting when put to the test
And in Tennis Maureen Connolly the legendary Little Mo
The greatest of her time six decades ago
The A F L fans have Leigh Matthews for to talk about
Their game's greatest player though that not without doubt
And golf has Norman, Nicklaus, Woods, Watson and Gary Player
Of their game's major honors they took the lion's share
And athletics have Nurmi and Zatopek, Owens and Flo Jo
Legends that most sports fans of surely would know.
Friday, July 26, 2013
Crickets Singing
With their long thin hind legs music they do create
And from late Summer to early Fall they sing for a mate
The mating calls of the crickets one cannot get wrong
To the grasshopper family they do belong
Quite black for to look at of them i recall
They hide in long grass and in cracks in a wall
In their breeding Season the males venture out
To sing mate and leap high and go on hop about
My wonder of them only does seem to grow
Yet little of their ways i can claim to know
Their life span is brief born to sing, mate and die
And they are mere mortals just like you and i
They can jump to a great height though they cannot fly
The dark crickets that sing in the long grass nearby.
And from late Summer to early Fall they sing for a mate
The mating calls of the crickets one cannot get wrong
To the grasshopper family they do belong
Quite black for to look at of them i recall
They hide in long grass and in cracks in a wall
In their breeding Season the males venture out
To sing mate and leap high and go on hop about
My wonder of them only does seem to grow
Yet little of their ways i can claim to know
Their life span is brief born to sing, mate and die
And they are mere mortals just like you and i
They can jump to a great height though they cannot fly
The dark crickets that sing in the long grass nearby.
A Poet I Am Not
Though something few bother to read or recite
The stuff i do pen anybody could write
To rhyme is so easy as easy as can be
Most words can be used as rhyming words as most would agree
Yet good rhymers like anything good are quite rare
And with the best poets they do favorably compare
I loved reading good rhyming poems when i was a boy
And to this day rhyme poems i read and enjoy
Though my worth as a rhymer i often do doubt
So much in Life and Nature for to write about
And though I've written a lot of rhymes more than a few
For to write of always there is something new
A poet i am not though i pen heaps of stuff
And for many years now I've been a rhyming buff.
The stuff i do pen anybody could write
To rhyme is so easy as easy as can be
Most words can be used as rhyming words as most would agree
Yet good rhymers like anything good are quite rare
And with the best poets they do favorably compare
I loved reading good rhyming poems when i was a boy
And to this day rhyme poems i read and enjoy
Though my worth as a rhymer i often do doubt
So much in Life and Nature for to write about
And though I've written a lot of rhymes more than a few
For to write of always there is something new
A poet i am not though i pen heaps of stuff
And for many years now I've been a rhyming buff.
It Is Only In Fancy I See Clara Hill
It is only in fancy i see Clara Hill
And hear the babble of the silver tongued rill
That flow down the high fields of green Claramore
At the start of it's journey to the Atlantic Shore.
I do recall Winters of storm, rain, frost and snow
But in April's milder weather grass commenced to grow
And the hawthorns looked resplendent in their white blooms of the May
And the nesting birds chirped and sung through the day.
The song of the dipper i can visualize
He sings in the river even before sunrise
And the tiny brown bird who has the big bird song
The voice of the wren one could never get wrong.
In the Claraghatlea fields wildflowers bloom after rain
Where the voice of the cuckoo can be heard again
And the dark winged swallows are low in the sky
In pursuit of flying insects they chirp as they fly.
The clock on my life it is ticking on fast
And it is only in fancy i go to the past
On a leafy birch tree the male robin sing
On a beautiful day in the prime of the Spring.
And hear the babble of the silver tongued rill
That flow down the high fields of green Claramore
At the start of it's journey to the Atlantic Shore.
I do recall Winters of storm, rain, frost and snow
But in April's milder weather grass commenced to grow
And the hawthorns looked resplendent in their white blooms of the May
And the nesting birds chirped and sung through the day.
The song of the dipper i can visualize
He sings in the river even before sunrise
And the tiny brown bird who has the big bird song
The voice of the wren one could never get wrong.
In the Claraghatlea fields wildflowers bloom after rain
Where the voice of the cuckoo can be heard again
And the dark winged swallows are low in the sky
In pursuit of flying insects they chirp as they fly.
The clock on my life it is ticking on fast
And it is only in fancy i go to the past
On a leafy birch tree the male robin sing
On a beautiful day in the prime of the Spring.
Conchubar O hEalaithe
A member of the Irish Workers Party and a Socialist and a true Republican
And he loved Ireland and the Irish Language Neil Healy was a very special man
A family person and a quiet achiever he was one worthy of far greater note
I'd like to write a poem in his honor were i born with the genius of a poet.
One who did speak the Irish Language fluently not many like him that seems sad to say
In the changing face of twenty first century Ireland in the ever changing World of today
A loyal supporter of Joe Sherlock of the Workers Party to the colors he believed in he was true
To many one who did choose to be different for that alone great credit is his due.
People like he was make a case for re-incarnation I'm only saying how it does seem to me
He did love places distant from Duhallow old towns in France in Celtic Brittany
His passing a huge loss to Celtic Culture he is one who will be hard to replace
In Millstreet he will always be remembered where his will live as a remembered face.
He always stood for what he did believe in one who was as honest as the word can be
And it is sad to think that on the streets of Millstreet he is one that in the flesh we never more will see
But the World was better for him living in it of him that would be a fair thing to say
Conchubar O hEalaithe is one well worth remembering and good memories of him will live for many a day.
And he loved Ireland and the Irish Language Neil Healy was a very special man
A family person and a quiet achiever he was one worthy of far greater note
I'd like to write a poem in his honor were i born with the genius of a poet.
One who did speak the Irish Language fluently not many like him that seems sad to say
In the changing face of twenty first century Ireland in the ever changing World of today
A loyal supporter of Joe Sherlock of the Workers Party to the colors he believed in he was true
To many one who did choose to be different for that alone great credit is his due.
People like he was make a case for re-incarnation I'm only saying how it does seem to me
He did love places distant from Duhallow old towns in France in Celtic Brittany
His passing a huge loss to Celtic Culture he is one who will be hard to replace
In Millstreet he will always be remembered where his will live as a remembered face.
He always stood for what he did believe in one who was as honest as the word can be
And it is sad to think that on the streets of Millstreet he is one that in the flesh we never more will see
But the World was better for him living in it of him that would be a fair thing to say
Conchubar O hEalaithe is one well worth remembering and good memories of him will live for many a day.
The One Who Knows All About Nature
The one who knows all about Nature in the Human World you won't find
For her secrets and they are many she does not share with human kind
And though some many things of her and her knowledge on her like to recall
But if with you they are quite honest they will tell you they know little of her at all
To live we depend on our Earth Mother but without us she would get along fine
And few of us bother to thank her when we sit for to wine and to dine
The food and water we need for to survive and the clothes we wear comes from her she supplies us with everything
But too few of us bother to thank her and too few of us her praises do sing
To be the World's one and only true immortal is her eternal claim to fame
Earth Mother or Mother Nature she is known by and referred to by either name
Her wonders as we know are many and her secrets are more than a few
But on our every walk in her quiet places from her we do learn something new
And those who claim to know all about Nature are those who believe their own lie
Our Earth Mother the only immortal her life forms were all born for to die.
For her secrets and they are many she does not share with human kind
And though some many things of her and her knowledge on her like to recall
But if with you they are quite honest they will tell you they know little of her at all
To live we depend on our Earth Mother but without us she would get along fine
And few of us bother to thank her when we sit for to wine and to dine
The food and water we need for to survive and the clothes we wear comes from her she supplies us with everything
But too few of us bother to thank her and too few of us her praises do sing
To be the World's one and only true immortal is her eternal claim to fame
Earth Mother or Mother Nature she is known by and referred to by either name
Her wonders as we know are many and her secrets are more than a few
But on our every walk in her quiet places from her we do learn something new
And those who claim to know all about Nature are those who believe their own lie
Our Earth Mother the only immortal her life forms were all born for to die.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
I Like The Rhymes
I like the rhymes of the old fashioned rhymers the men and women of ballad and song
One can sense the rhythm and music in their verses to the bardic tradition they belong
Though in the twenty first century seen by many as out of fashion reading the rhyming stuff i still enjoy
Easy to understand not esoteric I've loved them since i was a school going boy
I cannot claim to be a judge of poetry since I'm not one with literary degrees
I just like rhyming stuff with lots of rhythm perhaps i am an easy one to please
The stuff quite popular in the nineteen fifties now seen as doggerel since the death of rhyme
What's fashionable now in ten years may seem outdated suppose that everything does have it's time
I loved the rhyming poems of my schooldays though that was years ago and far away
Perhaps I'm behind the times in my thinking since i enjoy reading old rhymes today
But then it is our different ways that makes us more interesting if we all thought the same how boring we would be
For it surely would be the death of discussion if everyone on all things did agree.
One can sense the rhythm and music in their verses to the bardic tradition they belong
Though in the twenty first century seen by many as out of fashion reading the rhyming stuff i still enjoy
Easy to understand not esoteric I've loved them since i was a school going boy
I cannot claim to be a judge of poetry since I'm not one with literary degrees
I just like rhyming stuff with lots of rhythm perhaps i am an easy one to please
The stuff quite popular in the nineteen fifties now seen as doggerel since the death of rhyme
What's fashionable now in ten years may seem outdated suppose that everything does have it's time
I loved the rhyming poems of my schooldays though that was years ago and far away
Perhaps I'm behind the times in my thinking since i enjoy reading old rhymes today
But then it is our different ways that makes us more interesting if we all thought the same how boring we would be
For it surely would be the death of discussion if everyone on all things did agree.
The Great Muhammad Ali
He called himself the greatest in that he wasn't wrong
For in the Boxing Hall of Fame Muhammad Ali does belong
In his prime he floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee
One of the all time boxing greats with that most would agree
He moved fast and he talked fast when in his glorious prime
At his best in the mid sixties to the late seventies and that's going back in time
His great fights against Liston, Frazier and Foreman boxing fans love to recall
He was one of the greatest if not the best of all,
The great Muhammad Ali is aging gracefully
Though clearly he is not the man that he once used to be
Despite developing Parkinson Disease and time not on his side
The great Muhammad Ali loved and respected Worldwide
For his charisma and humanity he is loved and admired
And a role model for young people Worldwide millions to better things he has inspired.
For in the Boxing Hall of Fame Muhammad Ali does belong
In his prime he floated like a butterfly and stung like a bee
One of the all time boxing greats with that most would agree
He moved fast and he talked fast when in his glorious prime
At his best in the mid sixties to the late seventies and that's going back in time
His great fights against Liston, Frazier and Foreman boxing fans love to recall
He was one of the greatest if not the best of all,
The great Muhammad Ali is aging gracefully
Though clearly he is not the man that he once used to be
Despite developing Parkinson Disease and time not on his side
The great Muhammad Ali loved and respected Worldwide
For his charisma and humanity he is loved and admired
And a role model for young people Worldwide millions to better things he has inspired.
Phil McCarthy
The eldest daughter of Denis and Elizabeth McCarthy her beauty i recall
When she was young in Pound Hill the fairest one of all
Though the years go by so quickly and fleeting is our prime
The memories of her beauty remain undimmed by time
Tall and blond and young and graceful in my mind she remain
Such lovely mental pictures of Phil to retain
She rests at peace in Dublin well north of Millstreet Town
Far from the streets where with her young friends she often walked up and down
Unaffected by her beauty she was free of conceit
What was a win for Dublin was a loss to Millstreet
She would have been in her sixties as far as i know
One can only hope her end was peaceful and not painful and slow
The years go by so quickly and time does not stand still
May she rest in peace in Dublin far from the Town by Clara Hill.
When she was young in Pound Hill the fairest one of all
Though the years go by so quickly and fleeting is our prime
The memories of her beauty remain undimmed by time
Tall and blond and young and graceful in my mind she remain
Such lovely mental pictures of Phil to retain
She rests at peace in Dublin well north of Millstreet Town
Far from the streets where with her young friends she often walked up and down
Unaffected by her beauty she was free of conceit
What was a win for Dublin was a loss to Millstreet
She would have been in her sixties as far as i know
One can only hope her end was peaceful and not painful and slow
The years go by so quickly and time does not stand still
May she rest in peace in Dublin far from the Town by Clara Hill.
Every Day From Her
In life we never stop learning as some like to say
And from Nature we learn something new every day
As a teacher any human with her could not hope to compare
Though with us her secrets she never will share
I have loved her since i was a very young boy
And learning about her i still do enjoy
Great artists and writers by her are inspired
And of singing her praises some never grow tired
When i was a youngster that's going back in time
Some fifteen years or more short of my life's prime
The love i have for her did commence to grow
Yet little of her ways i can claim to know
Her wonders are many her secrets not few
And every day from her i learn something new.
And from Nature we learn something new every day
As a teacher any human with her could not hope to compare
Though with us her secrets she never will share
I have loved her since i was a very young boy
And learning about her i still do enjoy
Great artists and writers by her are inspired
And of singing her praises some never grow tired
When i was a youngster that's going back in time
Some fifteen years or more short of my life's prime
The love i have for her did commence to grow
Yet little of her ways i can claim to know
Her wonders are many her secrets not few
And every day from her i learn something new.
Far Too Many Civilians
Far too many civilians in war zones have died
Their gift of life of them by misadventure denied
It is happening where wars are fought every day
Far too many civilians are dying in this way
Civilians are dying in almost every aerial attack
And life from once taken cannot be given back
In every war human life is taken as cheap
But those who start war the karma they sow they must reap
And karma it surely will not pass them by
For what goes around comes around to them apply
Old patriots past battles do love to recall
And from the past many have not learned at all
And more civilians are dying in war zones every day
For wars far too many innocent civilians with their lives do pay.
Their gift of life of them by misadventure denied
It is happening where wars are fought every day
Far too many civilians are dying in this way
Civilians are dying in almost every aerial attack
And life from once taken cannot be given back
In every war human life is taken as cheap
But those who start war the karma they sow they must reap
And karma it surely will not pass them by
For what goes around comes around to them apply
Old patriots past battles do love to recall
And from the past many have not learned at all
And more civilians are dying in war zones every day
For wars far too many innocent civilians with their lives do pay.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
The Poor Homeless Alcoholic
He does not have stories to tell of battles fought and won
Or of any great things in his life he has done
The poor homeless alcoholic has turned sixty one
Yet his deceased mum loved him and was proud of her son.
Not what one does call a great success in life
He has never had children or never had a wife
Yet he has never harmed anyone in any way
And he is a good person despite what some of him might say.
In life we do follow our life's destiny
And with the saying of judge not and thou shalt not be judged i for one do agree
The real person in him not for our eyes to see
At least anyway that's how it seems to me.
The day it is warm and in the sunshine
He sits on the park bench drinking from his bottle of cheap wine
Some of the more judge-mental whilst walking by at him do stare
But of their looks of disapproval he seems unaware.
Or of any great things in his life he has done
The poor homeless alcoholic has turned sixty one
Yet his deceased mum loved him and was proud of her son.
Not what one does call a great success in life
He has never had children or never had a wife
Yet he has never harmed anyone in any way
And he is a good person despite what some of him might say.
In life we do follow our life's destiny
And with the saying of judge not and thou shalt not be judged i for one do agree
The real person in him not for our eyes to see
At least anyway that's how it seems to me.
The day it is warm and in the sunshine
He sits on the park bench drinking from his bottle of cheap wine
Some of the more judge-mental whilst walking by at him do stare
But of their looks of disapproval he seems unaware.
Leave It To Others
When i tell you what i think you go off in a huff
Only few can write poetry anyone can pen stuff
You tell everyone you are a great poet though that should not be for you to say
You should leave it to others to praise you it sounds better that way
Self praise it is no praise happens to be true
But what we receive from life perhaps it is our due
And when i do say that poets are only few
I am not saying anything that is new
Out of millions of writers only a small percentage make the grade
But everyone needed in the Wordsmith trade
The poems that you write do not seem great to me
Though others I'm sure would see it differently
Leave it to others to praise you it sounds better that way
But when i say that you don't like what i say.
Only few can write poetry anyone can pen stuff
You tell everyone you are a great poet though that should not be for you to say
You should leave it to others to praise you it sounds better that way
Self praise it is no praise happens to be true
But what we receive from life perhaps it is our due
And when i do say that poets are only few
I am not saying anything that is new
Out of millions of writers only a small percentage make the grade
But everyone needed in the Wordsmith trade
The poems that you write do not seem great to me
Though others I'm sure would see it differently
Leave it to others to praise you it sounds better that way
But when i say that you don't like what i say.
The Old Pale Eyed Crow
On top of the gum tree the old pale eyed crow
Is talking to his neighbors of his kind of what they would know
Perhaps he is saying to them if this way you do fly
I will show you where food is to here it is nearby
Low in rank as songsters but of corvids it is known
That when it comes to intelligence in a class of their own
All species of corvids are clever most bird lovers agree
They will not have an argument on that from me
The survival skills of corvids never cease to surprise
Proof of such i have seen with my own eyes
To soften to eat I've seen them soaking hard bread in water believe that if you may
From Nature we learn something new every day
And the pale eyed crow cawing atop the tall gum tree
There's more to it far more than the eyes can see.
Is talking to his neighbors of his kind of what they would know
Perhaps he is saying to them if this way you do fly
I will show you where food is to here it is nearby
Low in rank as songsters but of corvids it is known
That when it comes to intelligence in a class of their own
All species of corvids are clever most bird lovers agree
They will not have an argument on that from me
The survival skills of corvids never cease to surprise
Proof of such i have seen with my own eyes
To soften to eat I've seen them soaking hard bread in water believe that if you may
From Nature we learn something new every day
And the pale eyed crow cawing atop the tall gum tree
There's more to it far more than the eyes can see.
Mick Kelleher's Happy Memories
He came to Melbourne in his late teens at the threshold of his prime
Forty two years in Australia that does seem a long time
Mick Kelleher is a young grandfather but time does not stand still
It has been awhile he will tell you since he last climbed Clara Hill
He still recalls his younger years in Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town
Where he lived and felt quite happy when his hair was chestnut brown
And though he is still quite happy in the life he leads today
He still likes to talk of the home fields and his old friends far away
In and near the Town by Clara Mountain where he lived as a boy
Recalling his boyhood memories is a thing he does enjoy
It was the lust for wander took him from his old Home-place
Where despite his years of absence his would still be a known face
And his distinctive Duhallow accent to this day he does retain
Something he was born into that till death with him will remain.
Forty two years in Australia that does seem a long time
Mick Kelleher is a young grandfather but time does not stand still
It has been awhile he will tell you since he last climbed Clara Hill
He still recalls his younger years in Claraghatlea near Millstreet Town
Where he lived and felt quite happy when his hair was chestnut brown
And though he is still quite happy in the life he leads today
He still likes to talk of the home fields and his old friends far away
In and near the Town by Clara Mountain where he lived as a boy
Recalling his boyhood memories is a thing he does enjoy
It was the lust for wander took him from his old Home-place
Where despite his years of absence his would still be a known face
And his distinctive Duhallow accent to this day he does retain
Something he was born into that till death with him will remain.
Far Too Late For Helpston's John Clare
He is arguably England's greatest Nature poet
Yet in his lifetime not seen as one worthy of note
He died in the Northampton Asylum where he had lived for years
But his passing did not stir a Nation to tears
Of his worth as a poet poetry lovers aware
But all that far too late for Helpston's John Clare
Sad and poor and demented when he drew his last breath
But a legend of literature decades after his death.
Forgotten in life after a brief spell of fame
He died without any money to his name
For one self educated great poems he did write
A pleasure to read and a joy to recite.
His verses on the ladybird named Clock A Clay
Is one of the World's great poems of today
And I Am and The Badger and The Thrush's Nest
Better poems than most and as good as the best.
Yet in his lifetime not seen as one worthy of note
He died in the Northampton Asylum where he had lived for years
But his passing did not stir a Nation to tears
Of his worth as a poet poetry lovers aware
But all that far too late for Helpston's John Clare
Sad and poor and demented when he drew his last breath
But a legend of literature decades after his death.
Forgotten in life after a brief spell of fame
He died without any money to his name
For one self educated great poems he did write
A pleasure to read and a joy to recite.
His verses on the ladybird named Clock A Clay
Is one of the World's great poems of today
And I Am and The Badger and The Thrush's Nest
Better poems than most and as good as the best.
Tuesday, July 23, 2013
A Stranger In Wonthaggi
Where coalminers for safer working conditions and higher pay earned their place in renown
Today he says he'd be a stranger in old Wonthaggi Town
He left it forty five years ago when he was in his life's prime
It's been thirty years since he was last back there and that's going back in time
He says today I'd feel a stranger in Wonthaggi and not one there would know of me
In the Town that is my Hometown just a short drive from the sea
The wanderlust was in him when he was twenty three
And some of the bigger World out there he yearned for to see
A balding man in his late sixties his once brown hair silver gray
And clearly he has known a far better day
His oldest grandchild a young woman of twenty one
Is the proud mother of a baby son
And he is growing older with his aging wife
Far from where he began his great journey in life.
Today he says he'd be a stranger in old Wonthaggi Town
He left it forty five years ago when he was in his life's prime
It's been thirty years since he was last back there and that's going back in time
He says today I'd feel a stranger in Wonthaggi and not one there would know of me
In the Town that is my Hometown just a short drive from the sea
The wanderlust was in him when he was twenty three
And some of the bigger World out there he yearned for to see
A balding man in his late sixties his once brown hair silver gray
And clearly he has known a far better day
His oldest grandchild a young woman of twenty one
Is the proud mother of a baby son
And he is growing older with his aging wife
Far from where he began his great journey in life.
For Friendships To Be Formed
They have so much in common they love to talk football
And big names of their favorite sport they do love to recall
Though not everyone in their drinking group barracks for the same club
Football the main topic of conversation when they meet in the pub,
Birds of a feather flock together as some do like to say
And that too applies to people or so it would seem that way
The one interested in art does not have one who loves sports as a friend
They would find each other boring why otherwise pretend,
For friendships to be formed there must be common ground
Amongst a group of football fans a tennis fan won't be found
It is out of common interests that the seeds of mate-ship are sown
Perhaps it is from there the saying was born that he or she is one of our own
If we all had the same hobby how boring we would be
Our different ways makes us more interesting or so it would seem to me.
And big names of their favorite sport they do love to recall
Though not everyone in their drinking group barracks for the same club
Football the main topic of conversation when they meet in the pub,
Birds of a feather flock together as some do like to say
And that too applies to people or so it would seem that way
The one interested in art does not have one who loves sports as a friend
They would find each other boring why otherwise pretend,
For friendships to be formed there must be common ground
Amongst a group of football fans a tennis fan won't be found
It is out of common interests that the seeds of mate-ship are sown
Perhaps it is from there the saying was born that he or she is one of our own
If we all had the same hobby how boring we would be
Our different ways makes us more interesting or so it would seem to me.
Where The Merri Flows Into The Sea
In Summer where the Merri flows into the sea
Parents with their children one often does see
Relaxing and swimming on a nice sunny day
In the cool and shallow waters of old Lady Bay
A beautiful place to relax and keep cool
In the warmth of the Summer in breezy Warrnambool
I fancy Utopia to this place is near
Where the laughter of happy young people i hear
Where the waters of the Merri into saltwater flow
A safe place for their children to swim as many local parents do know
The sun blazing brightly in the clear Summer sky
And the roar of the big waves in the ocean nearby
But in the shallow waters children laugh and play
Of the Merri River at lovely Lady Bay.
Parents with their children one often does see
Relaxing and swimming on a nice sunny day
In the cool and shallow waters of old Lady Bay
A beautiful place to relax and keep cool
In the warmth of the Summer in breezy Warrnambool
I fancy Utopia to this place is near
Where the laughter of happy young people i hear
Where the waters of the Merri into saltwater flow
A safe place for their children to swim as many local parents do know
The sun blazing brightly in the clear Summer sky
And the roar of the big waves in the ocean nearby
But in the shallow waters children laugh and play
Of the Merri River at lovely Lady Bay.
Enjoy Your Life
Enjoy your life try to make the most of every day
For time on us never stops ticking away
It will not wait for you it did not wait for me
I wish i were your age again twenty three
I'd like to be like you in your life's glorious prime
Though one day you too will feel the wear of time
Young people will one day say of you he is over the hill
For the hands of time never ever stand still
Why allow life's small worries for to get you down
Few wish for to know the sad sack of the town
Though compassion in their words some for you may show
Of your worries most others do not wish to know
The average human life in time not a lengthy span
So make the most of your life as a healthy and fit young man.
For time on us never stops ticking away
It will not wait for you it did not wait for me
I wish i were your age again twenty three
I'd like to be like you in your life's glorious prime
Though one day you too will feel the wear of time
Young people will one day say of you he is over the hill
For the hands of time never ever stand still
Why allow life's small worries for to get you down
Few wish for to know the sad sack of the town
Though compassion in their words some for you may show
Of your worries most others do not wish to know
The average human life in time not a lengthy span
So make the most of your life as a healthy and fit young man.
On The Day That Mum Died
The weather was wintery on the day that Mum died
The cold winds of February blew across the countryside
For years ailing of lung cancer her end painful and slow
Of suffering in her life she surely did know
Back in nineteen sixty six that is going back in time
When i was a few years short of my life's prime
Since then many Seasons have come and have gone
But memories of that day in me living on
Not one leaf to be seen on any deciduous tree
On that sad day for Dad and my siblings and me
Though we'd never see her in the flesh again
Her life's struggles over she was free of pain
The heavy gray clouds were pregnant with rain
And only sad memories of that sad day with me remain.
The cold winds of February blew across the countryside
For years ailing of lung cancer her end painful and slow
Of suffering in her life she surely did know
Back in nineteen sixty six that is going back in time
When i was a few years short of my life's prime
Since then many Seasons have come and have gone
But memories of that day in me living on
Not one leaf to be seen on any deciduous tree
On that sad day for Dad and my siblings and me
Though we'd never see her in the flesh again
Her life's struggles over she was free of pain
The heavy gray clouds were pregnant with rain
And only sad memories of that sad day with me remain.
Sunday, July 21, 2013
Of Any Success In My Life
Of any success in my life of such i can't name
I'm just a rhymer from Millstreet who will never know of fame
A bloke from Claraghatlea close to Millstreet Town
Though that would not rate as a claim to renown.
Now in the late Autumn of my living span
I live far from where i grew into a man
And the old fields that often inspired me to rhyme
Eventually we all become victims of time.
It has been awhile since I've heard the robin sing
In a leafy grove in the northern Spring
When the lush green fields wore their wildflowers of May
North of this Southern Country in miles far away.
Where dark brown white breasted dipper often sings in the rill
That babbles to the river down the field by the hill
I grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning about her i still do enjoy.
The word poet was not meant for a rhymer like me
A fellow from Millstreet is all i can wish to be
My best days in life to the forever gone
But for as long as i can rhyme I'll keep rhyming on.
I'm just a rhymer from Millstreet who will never know of fame
A bloke from Claraghatlea close to Millstreet Town
Though that would not rate as a claim to renown.
Now in the late Autumn of my living span
I live far from where i grew into a man
And the old fields that often inspired me to rhyme
Eventually we all become victims of time.
It has been awhile since I've heard the robin sing
In a leafy grove in the northern Spring
When the lush green fields wore their wildflowers of May
North of this Southern Country in miles far away.
Where dark brown white breasted dipper often sings in the rill
That babbles to the river down the field by the hill
I grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning about her i still do enjoy.
The word poet was not meant for a rhymer like me
A fellow from Millstreet is all i can wish to be
My best days in life to the forever gone
But for as long as i can rhyme I'll keep rhyming on.
All Of Those Who Love Nature
All of those who love Nature i greatly admire
And of singing their praises i for one cannot tire
But sad to say Nature's friends do seem too few
In saying that i am not saying anything that is new
Far too many trees every day are cut down
To make room for more factories in the industrial town
And Nature's creatures seem to suffer for every millionaire
And due to habitat destruction many creatures now rare
In the woods of Spring not many birds left to sing
And without birdsong it would be a very sad Spring
Those who stand up for Nature respect and credit are due
I only say here what i feel to be true
To those who love Nature my toasting glass i raise
I feel that such people are well worthy of praise.
And of singing their praises i for one cannot tire
But sad to say Nature's friends do seem too few
In saying that i am not saying anything that is new
Far too many trees every day are cut down
To make room for more factories in the industrial town
And Nature's creatures seem to suffer for every millionaire
And due to habitat destruction many creatures now rare
In the woods of Spring not many birds left to sing
And without birdsong it would be a very sad Spring
Those who stand up for Nature respect and credit are due
I only say here what i feel to be true
To those who love Nature my toasting glass i raise
I feel that such people are well worthy of praise.
Just One More Dead Hero
So much about his courage we have heard of and read
So sad about the brave man so sad to hear he's dead
A decorated soldier from a war far away
The Reaper claimed the life from him suppose he had his day
One the nationalists and patriots used to celebrate
But with the coward and the traitor he shared a common fate
Not one to respect money or bravery or fame
To the Reaper the life of the coward and the hero are equal and the same
Though memories of the man he was will take some time to fade
Next year he won't be around to march in the war veterans parade
Ninety two when he died his best days long gone
Just one more dead hero and life does go on
The coward and the hero and those of wealth and fame
Are made equal by the Reaper he treats them as the same.
So sad about the brave man so sad to hear he's dead
A decorated soldier from a war far away
The Reaper claimed the life from him suppose he had his day
One the nationalists and patriots used to celebrate
But with the coward and the traitor he shared a common fate
Not one to respect money or bravery or fame
To the Reaper the life of the coward and the hero are equal and the same
Though memories of the man he was will take some time to fade
Next year he won't be around to march in the war veterans parade
Ninety two when he died his best days long gone
Just one more dead hero and life does go on
The coward and the hero and those of wealth and fame
Are made equal by the Reaper he treats them as the same.
I Live In The South
I live in the south most of my memories are of elsewhere
And though I've seen a little of the World out there
Many people have traveled far more widely than me
And so much in the big World there is for to see.
But in my flights of fancy i go to the past
Where Araglen waters are babbling on fast
The dark brown white breasted dipper of the waterways sing
On a pleasant evening in the prime of the Spring.
The hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And the sparrows under the house eaves build their nests of hay
That they line with small feathers where their tiny eggs they lay
Of Nature we learn something new every day.
The swallows home to breed from warm Lands far away
On the old shed rafters build their cup shaped nests of clay
And above the old fields they chase flies and bees
When pink blossoms are blooming on the fruit bearing trees.
I visualize the old fields in their April flowers
And birds in the leafy groves singing in the sun showers
I memorize only things i once used to know
Though the clock on our lives never seems to tick slow.
And though I've seen a little of the World out there
Many people have traveled far more widely than me
And so much in the big World there is for to see.
But in my flights of fancy i go to the past
Where Araglen waters are babbling on fast
The dark brown white breasted dipper of the waterways sing
On a pleasant evening in the prime of the Spring.
The hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And the sparrows under the house eaves build their nests of hay
That they line with small feathers where their tiny eggs they lay
Of Nature we learn something new every day.
The swallows home to breed from warm Lands far away
On the old shed rafters build their cup shaped nests of clay
And above the old fields they chase flies and bees
When pink blossoms are blooming on the fruit bearing trees.
I visualize the old fields in their April flowers
And birds in the leafy groves singing in the sun showers
I memorize only things i once used to know
Though the clock on our lives never seems to tick slow.
Ruby Hunter
In Killarney in Victoria Ruby Hunter passed away
She was only fifty five years young to die as some would say
A legendary singer and Archie Roach's soul-mate
Australia's greatest Indigenous singing duo together they were great.
Survived by her beloved Archie and their sons Amos and Eban
It is sad to think that she died young her's not a long life span
A renowned member of the Ngarrindjerri Tribe she scaled the heights of fame
An Australian cultural icon and a legendary name.
Like Archie Roach one of Australia's stolen generation at a young age taken from her family
They met and fell in love when they were young and homeless and knew of poverty
She was a special person to her higher self quite true
And for the success she made of her life to her great credit is due.
It is sad to think together we'll never more hear them sing
But for each and everyone of us there is a final Spring
A marvelous Australian and a credit to her tribe and race
In the lives of her many friends and family there is none to take her place.
She was only fifty five years young to die as some would say
A legendary singer and Archie Roach's soul-mate
Australia's greatest Indigenous singing duo together they were great.
Survived by her beloved Archie and their sons Amos and Eban
It is sad to think that she died young her's not a long life span
A renowned member of the Ngarrindjerri Tribe she scaled the heights of fame
An Australian cultural icon and a legendary name.
Like Archie Roach one of Australia's stolen generation at a young age taken from her family
They met and fell in love when they were young and homeless and knew of poverty
She was a special person to her higher self quite true
And for the success she made of her life to her great credit is due.
It is sad to think together we'll never more hear them sing
But for each and everyone of us there is a final Spring
A marvelous Australian and a credit to her tribe and race
In the lives of her many friends and family there is none to take her place.
Saturday, July 20, 2013
When I Am Gone Forever
When i am gone forever and not one memory of me remain
The birds will chirp and whistle in the Spring before the rain
And Nature's flowers will be blooming and on every fruit bearing tree
The clusters of pink blossoms so pretty for to see
It is a simple fact of life and facts do never lie
That us humans like all other life forms are born for to die
Some great names live on for centuries after the body has died
But eventually they fade away like footprints on the beach do in the tide
But Nature will still be around in the World on every shore
The only known immortal who will live forever more
Us humans like every other life form to the Reaper's scythe must fall
From the humblest to the greatest death does await us all
When i am gone and forgotten and in Nature's bosom lay
The birds will chirp and whistle at the dawning of the day.
The birds will chirp and whistle in the Spring before the rain
And Nature's flowers will be blooming and on every fruit bearing tree
The clusters of pink blossoms so pretty for to see
It is a simple fact of life and facts do never lie
That us humans like all other life forms are born for to die
Some great names live on for centuries after the body has died
But eventually they fade away like footprints on the beach do in the tide
But Nature will still be around in the World on every shore
The only known immortal who will live forever more
Us humans like every other life form to the Reaper's scythe must fall
From the humblest to the greatest death does await us all
When i am gone and forgotten and in Nature's bosom lay
The birds will chirp and whistle at the dawning of the day.
All I Can Wish To Be
Till the one known as the Reaper claims the breath of life from me
For to be a better person is all i can wish to be
And try not to be judgemental and of others negative things not say
And believe in a fair go for all people we ought to live that way
Far too many judgemental people in every village, city and town
It is easy very easy in words to put someone down
On negative thoughts of others anyone ought not to dwell
If you only look for the good in others in life you are doing well,
Never judge other people by their creed, religion or race
Make yourself a better person make the World to live in a better place
Try not to harbor grudges and forget and forgive
There's so much truth in the old saying of live and let live
I just want to be happy for the rest of my life span
And be kinder to others and live as a better man.
For to be a better person is all i can wish to be
And try not to be judgemental and of others negative things not say
And believe in a fair go for all people we ought to live that way
Far too many judgemental people in every village, city and town
It is easy very easy in words to put someone down
On negative thoughts of others anyone ought not to dwell
If you only look for the good in others in life you are doing well,
Never judge other people by their creed, religion or race
Make yourself a better person make the World to live in a better place
Try not to harbor grudges and forget and forgive
There's so much truth in the old saying of live and let live
I just want to be happy for the rest of my life span
And be kinder to others and live as a better man.
For Every Bird
Like for all of us there is a final Spring
For every bird a final song to sing
So enjoy your walks in Nature for as long as you can
For short in time the longest lifetime span
The bird who chirps upon the leafy tree
Is not aware of death like you and me
But he too has his borders to defend
And at breeding time his wife his only friend
Our lives in time far longer than the flowers
That bloom in Spring in the life giving showers
But it is a fact of life and facts don't lie
That like Nature's flowers we too are born to die
And for every bird there is a final song
Whoever said that did not have it wrong.
For every bird a final song to sing
So enjoy your walks in Nature for as long as you can
For short in time the longest lifetime span
The bird who chirps upon the leafy tree
Is not aware of death like you and me
But he too has his borders to defend
And at breeding time his wife his only friend
Our lives in time far longer than the flowers
That bloom in Spring in the life giving showers
But it is a fact of life and facts don't lie
That like Nature's flowers we too are born to die
And for every bird there is a final song
Whoever said that did not have it wrong.
Bill In His Fifties
He has never helped for to bring a child to life
And Bill in his fifties never had a wife
And it is said by some that he is gay
But if this be so then that too is okay
There is so much to like about the man
He is one of those to help you if he can
And negative things of others you won't hear him say
A quiet achiever in his own nice way
If he cannot help you in words he will not put you down
One of the nicest people in his side of the town
Though his is not a celebrated face
The Human World for him in it a far better place
For to live a good life he does the best he can
There is so much to like of in the man.
And Bill in his fifties never had a wife
And it is said by some that he is gay
But if this be so then that too is okay
There is so much to like about the man
He is one of those to help you if he can
And negative things of others you won't hear him say
A quiet achiever in his own nice way
If he cannot help you in words he will not put you down
One of the nicest people in his side of the town
Though his is not a celebrated face
The Human World for him in it a far better place
For to live a good life he does the best he can
There is so much to like of in the man.
The Man Who Beats His Wife
He has lived in the southern suburb for the most of his life
One looked up to by many the man who beats his wife
She often wears dark glasses to hide the bruising around her eyes
More women abused by their partners and their husbands than one does realize.
With their two primary school-going daughters in church on Sunday
To the God they believe in they sing hymns to and pray
In his public face his falseness to the World he does portray
It is part of their makeup that some people are this way.
That she puts up with his abuse and with him chooses to stay
And from the law and public signs of bruising hide away
Does sadly only tell us of her sense of low self esteem
In our public faces to others most of us not what we seem.
The man who beats his wife is one who is well known
And some proudly claim him as one of our own
His good public image his false sense of pride
Whilst his wife in dark glasses her bruises does hide.
One looked up to by many the man who beats his wife
She often wears dark glasses to hide the bruising around her eyes
More women abused by their partners and their husbands than one does realize.
With their two primary school-going daughters in church on Sunday
To the God they believe in they sing hymns to and pray
In his public face his falseness to the World he does portray
It is part of their makeup that some people are this way.
That she puts up with his abuse and with him chooses to stay
And from the law and public signs of bruising hide away
Does sadly only tell us of her sense of low self esteem
In our public faces to others most of us not what we seem.
The man who beats his wife is one who is well known
And some proudly claim him as one of our own
His good public image his false sense of pride
Whilst his wife in dark glasses her bruises does hide.
Friday, July 19, 2013
In Kippagh By The Hills
High above the lake where the Cails waters rise
The lark in the May towards the cloud World flies
Like a musical speck in the sky he does sing
Proclaiming his territory in latter Spring.
The hawthorns are cloaked in their blooms white to gray
When wildflowers are in bloom in high fields far away
And nesting songbirds sing for to greet the day
In Kippagh by the hills in the prime of the May.
Were i a poet of such beauty i would write
A poem for lovers of poetry for to read and recite
When the nesting wild birds of Nature are on song
Even sight unseen by their voices one cannot get them wrong.
In fancy I'm back in the old fields again
And Kippagh is looking lusher and greener after recent rain
And the dipper is singing where the Cails waters flow
Inland from the bracken by ditch and hedgerow.
The lark in the May towards the cloud World flies
Like a musical speck in the sky he does sing
Proclaiming his territory in latter Spring.
The hawthorns are cloaked in their blooms white to gray
When wildflowers are in bloom in high fields far away
And nesting songbirds sing for to greet the day
In Kippagh by the hills in the prime of the May.
Were i a poet of such beauty i would write
A poem for lovers of poetry for to read and recite
When the nesting wild birds of Nature are on song
Even sight unseen by their voices one cannot get them wrong.
In fancy I'm back in the old fields again
And Kippagh is looking lusher and greener after recent rain
And the dipper is singing where the Cails waters flow
Inland from the bracken by ditch and hedgerow.
I Do Know Where My Journey
I do know where my journey through life began
In the Townland where i did grow into a man
In Claraghatlea a mile west of Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
I've lived in Australia for the past twenty three years
And for Ireland I've shed my last nostalgic tears
The shores of Hibernia i may never more see
But then one would have to suppose what's to be it will be
I never may see old Claraghatlea again
And hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain
When the mild winds of April blow from Clara Hill
And the buttercups bloom by the silver tongued rill
That flows down the high fields of green Claramore
At the start of it's journey to the Atlantic Shore.
In the Townland where i did grow into a man
In Claraghatlea a mile west of Millstreet Town
Where i used to live when my hair was dark brown
I've lived in Australia for the past twenty three years
And for Ireland I've shed my last nostalgic tears
The shores of Hibernia i may never more see
But then one would have to suppose what's to be it will be
I never may see old Claraghatlea again
And hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain
When the mild winds of April blow from Clara Hill
And the buttercups bloom by the silver tongued rill
That flows down the high fields of green Claramore
At the start of it's journey to the Atlantic Shore.
Have You Ever Thought
Have you ever thought about who you might be
Do you know the real you the one you call me?
For the real self is one few are privileged to know
We all do grow older but few of us spiritually do grow.
Without proclaiming your good deed all over the town
Can you help someone who is financially down
And not even mention to one of your good deed
Of how you did help one of help quite in need.
On how we grow older we choose our own way
Some in hair dyes and anti aging creams cover their wrinkles and gray
Whilst some with less pride like to age naturally
The physical type of person they are not at all hard to see.
To your higher self you can only be true
And always give credit to where credit is due
Your humility and kindness joy to you will bring
And leave it to others your praises to sing.
Do you know the real you the one you call me?
For the real self is one few are privileged to know
We all do grow older but few of us spiritually do grow.
Without proclaiming your good deed all over the town
Can you help someone who is financially down
And not even mention to one of your good deed
Of how you did help one of help quite in need.
On how we grow older we choose our own way
Some in hair dyes and anti aging creams cover their wrinkles and gray
Whilst some with less pride like to age naturally
The physical type of person they are not at all hard to see.
To your higher self you can only be true
And always give credit to where credit is due
Your humility and kindness joy to you will bring
And leave it to others your praises to sing.
He Is As Hard As Nails Old Billy
He is hard as nails old Billy tough times he's had to survive
You ask him how is he faring he'll say good to be alive
Good to watch another sunset behind the far western hill
As the magpie he is fluting the one with the silver bill
Twenty years ago he lost his wife and teenage son and daughter when their home burnt to the ground
They were almost burnt to ashes only charred bones of them found
All he had loved from him was taken to him lost and forever gone
He recovered from his heartbreak like he says life does go on
Billy is in his mid sixties many years past his life's prime
He says the past has gone forever no holding back the hands of time
He says everything happens for a reason and life for him goes on somehow
We cannot live in the past or plan for the future we can only live in the now
He is one of life's survivors and at heart he is so kind
Yet one with a more tragic life story than his would be quite hard to find.
You ask him how is he faring he'll say good to be alive
Good to watch another sunset behind the far western hill
As the magpie he is fluting the one with the silver bill
Twenty years ago he lost his wife and teenage son and daughter when their home burnt to the ground
They were almost burnt to ashes only charred bones of them found
All he had loved from him was taken to him lost and forever gone
He recovered from his heartbreak like he says life does go on
Billy is in his mid sixties many years past his life's prime
He says the past has gone forever no holding back the hands of time
He says everything happens for a reason and life for him goes on somehow
We cannot live in the past or plan for the future we can only live in the now
He is one of life's survivors and at heart he is so kind
Yet one with a more tragic life story than his would be quite hard to find.
From The Gougane Barra He Made Famous
From the Gougane Barra he made famous his bones lay far away
But the poems of J J Callanan alive and well today
Buried in distant Portugal the translator and poet
In Ireland's literary history remains as one of note
The poems of the great Bard of Cork have survived the test of time
Though he did not live to grow old he died in his life's prime
His name lives on in Ireland as a literary man of note
A renowned Gaelic translator and a very famous poet
The Recluse Of Inchydoney and The Convict Of Clonmel are two of the great poems he did write
And his Outlaw Of Lough Lene and Gougane Barra beautiful to read and to recite
As a poet and translator his remains a well known name
And his poems of great beauty live to his enduring fame
He lived in a different Ireland than the Ireland of today
And from his beloved Country he is buried far away.
But the poems of J J Callanan alive and well today
Buried in distant Portugal the translator and poet
In Ireland's literary history remains as one of note
The poems of the great Bard of Cork have survived the test of time
Though he did not live to grow old he died in his life's prime
His name lives on in Ireland as a literary man of note
A renowned Gaelic translator and a very famous poet
The Recluse Of Inchydoney and The Convict Of Clonmel are two of the great poems he did write
And his Outlaw Of Lough Lene and Gougane Barra beautiful to read and to recite
As a poet and translator his remains a well known name
And his poems of great beauty live to his enduring fame
He lived in a different Ireland than the Ireland of today
And from his beloved Country he is buried far away.
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Her Wonders Are So Many
I've been in love with Nature since i was a young boy
And learning things about her to me a source of joy
Her wonders are so many her secrets are not few
And every day about her we learn something new
Her beauty all around us for to enjoy and see
The honeyeaters chirping on flowering bush and tree
It truly is amazing the beauty she does create
Her Seasons come and go to her but she re-generate
For our very existence to her alone we owe
Yet we only take and take from her and respect to her doesn't show
Yet the one who can create a thing of beauty like a wildborn flower
In her moments of anger becomes the World's most destructive power
And when she has spent her energy she leaves injury, death and heartbreak
And great buildings reduced to rubble by her anger in her wake.
And learning things about her to me a source of joy
Her wonders are so many her secrets are not few
And every day about her we learn something new
Her beauty all around us for to enjoy and see
The honeyeaters chirping on flowering bush and tree
It truly is amazing the beauty she does create
Her Seasons come and go to her but she re-generate
For our very existence to her alone we owe
Yet we only take and take from her and respect to her doesn't show
Yet the one who can create a thing of beauty like a wildborn flower
In her moments of anger becomes the World's most destructive power
And when she has spent her energy she leaves injury, death and heartbreak
And great buildings reduced to rubble by her anger in her wake.
Anger And Jealousy
Anger and jealousy are siblings both self destructive in their own way
Of the damage they give rise to we hear and read of every day
In assaults and murder and every violent sort of crime
So many people because of them in prison serving time
Anger and jealousy to assertiveness different in every way
That only does seem a fair thing to say
Those who are assertive speak with a clear mind
To outbursts of anger they are not inclined
Jealousy and anger out of control
Blocks out the light from the windows of the soul
Non human friendly that cannot be denied
Worse flaws by far than even arrogance and pride
To violence and crimes against others they do lead
Anger and jealousy are siblings indeed.
Of the damage they give rise to we hear and read of every day
In assaults and murder and every violent sort of crime
So many people because of them in prison serving time
Anger and jealousy to assertiveness different in every way
That only does seem a fair thing to say
Those who are assertive speak with a clear mind
To outbursts of anger they are not inclined
Jealousy and anger out of control
Blocks out the light from the windows of the soul
Non human friendly that cannot be denied
Worse flaws by far than even arrogance and pride
To violence and crimes against others they do lead
Anger and jealousy are siblings indeed.
Another Door Opens
Another door opens when one door does close
That saying in it's own way refer to human life one suppose
More life opportunities for some anyway
Do come with the dawning of every new day
But human life in itself is a temporary thing
Though the praises of those they see as idols many like to sing
We live in the now and the past is the past
And each day that we wake to is one nearer to our last
When one door does close another open wide
And life can be marvelous with luck on your side
And luck in life one ought not to under-rate
It can be your worst enemy or your best mate
In life one door does open when another does close
And your friends of today could be your future foes.
That saying in it's own way refer to human life one suppose
More life opportunities for some anyway
Do come with the dawning of every new day
But human life in itself is a temporary thing
Though the praises of those they see as idols many like to sing
We live in the now and the past is the past
And each day that we wake to is one nearer to our last
When one door does close another open wide
And life can be marvelous with luck on your side
And luck in life one ought not to under-rate
It can be your worst enemy or your best mate
In life one door does open when another does close
And your friends of today could be your future foes.
In The Grayness Of The Twilight
The corellas are squawking just after sundown
In the grayness of twilight in the park of the town
The crickets are singing in the cracks in the garden wall
In their breeding Season from late Summer to early Autumn to daylight from nightfall
They never stop singing perhaps calling for a mate
All life forms in Nature have their ways to inter-relate
In the hour after darkness the night creatures venture out
To hunt and search for food in the parks and paddocks and the woods for miles about
Whilst day creatures are resting in the still of the night
They mate and they eat under the moonlight,
The corellas cry out on the high gums in the park
As they roost for the night in the gathering dark
A near perfect ending to a near perfect day
And the first day of Autumn just a fortnight away.
In the grayness of twilight in the park of the town
The crickets are singing in the cracks in the garden wall
In their breeding Season from late Summer to early Autumn to daylight from nightfall
They never stop singing perhaps calling for a mate
All life forms in Nature have their ways to inter-relate
In the hour after darkness the night creatures venture out
To hunt and search for food in the parks and paddocks and the woods for miles about
Whilst day creatures are resting in the still of the night
They mate and they eat under the moonlight,
The corellas cry out on the high gums in the park
As they roost for the night in the gathering dark
A near perfect ending to a near perfect day
And the first day of Autumn just a fortnight away.
There Is An Earthly Heaven And Hell
Can't say of an afterlife hell or heaven but there is an Earthly heaven and hell
Whilst many are homeless and hungry some for themselves doing well
And some are very wealthy and getting wealthier by the day
And a huge gap between the haves and have nots it has always been this way
That a minority own the majority of the wealth in the Human World does not seem fair at all
And though the billionaire just like the pauper to the Reaper's scythe does fall
And though the praises of egalatarianism some are happy to sing
Of equality amongst the living there is no such a thing
So many hungry and homeless in the bigger World out there
And the poor and the forgotten are to be found everywhere
Life choices we hear so much of to everyone does not apply
And why so many are poor and homeless one has to wonder why
Could it be for some to grow wealthier many must know of poverty
There is nothing fair about that at least that's how it seems to me.
Whilst many are homeless and hungry some for themselves doing well
And some are very wealthy and getting wealthier by the day
And a huge gap between the haves and have nots it has always been this way
That a minority own the majority of the wealth in the Human World does not seem fair at all
And though the billionaire just like the pauper to the Reaper's scythe does fall
And though the praises of egalatarianism some are happy to sing
Of equality amongst the living there is no such a thing
So many hungry and homeless in the bigger World out there
And the poor and the forgotten are to be found everywhere
Life choices we hear so much of to everyone does not apply
And why so many are poor and homeless one has to wonder why
Could it be for some to grow wealthier many must know of poverty
There is nothing fair about that at least that's how it seems to me.
Wednesday, July 17, 2013
It Is Beyond Any Human Being
It is beyond any human being for to explain
How such a tiny insect could have such a great brain
Such beautiful webs with their silk they create
Though i have yet to hear one say that spiders are great
Arachnophobia as we know is a common fear
Of people who panic when they see a spider near
They scream out in fear as they run away
And their fear of spiders till death with them stay
Though some spider bites leave people feeling ill
Few spiders have enough toxin in them a human being for to kill
A dangerous human being than a dangerous spider far easier to find
As humans have killed millions of their own kind
Yet the beauty a spider from it's tiny self can create
Than anything a human can do is perhaps far more great.
How such a tiny insect could have such a great brain
Such beautiful webs with their silk they create
Though i have yet to hear one say that spiders are great
Arachnophobia as we know is a common fear
Of people who panic when they see a spider near
They scream out in fear as they run away
And their fear of spiders till death with them stay
Though some spider bites leave people feeling ill
Few spiders have enough toxin in them a human being for to kill
A dangerous human being than a dangerous spider far easier to find
As humans have killed millions of their own kind
Yet the beauty a spider from it's tiny self can create
Than anything a human can do is perhaps far more great.
A Scottish Migrant
He has lived in Australia for thirty five years
And for Scotland his old Homeland he has no more tears
He will never again climb the steep heather hill
Or hear the babble of the silver tongued rill
That flows from the lake where grass to bracken yield
By ditches and wildwoods and through many a field
And rough and damp moorland where rank rushes grow
On to the big river it ever does flow
In his fifty fifth year his once brown hair silver gray
One might say of him he has known a better day
Thirty two years married to his Aussie wife she's my soulmate he does say
And their only child a son his daughter will be seven in May
And though he may never see his old Homeland again
The accent of Scotland with him does remain.
And for Scotland his old Homeland he has no more tears
He will never again climb the steep heather hill
Or hear the babble of the silver tongued rill
That flows from the lake where grass to bracken yield
By ditches and wildwoods and through many a field
And rough and damp moorland where rank rushes grow
On to the big river it ever does flow
In his fifty fifth year his once brown hair silver gray
One might say of him he has known a better day
Thirty two years married to his Aussie wife she's my soulmate he does say
And their only child a son his daughter will be seven in May
And though he may never see his old Homeland again
The accent of Scotland with him does remain.
Just A Friendly Small Dog
Just a small brown and white jack russell with a stub for a tail
Yet when it comes to trust and loyalty his master he never fail
One who will never know of canine renown
Yet to his mentor he is the best dog in the town
With a ball or a stick he loves for to play
Just a friendly terrier friendly in every way
Yet his master with his life he'd defend
It is true what is said of a four legged friend
Respect for his master in love and devotion he does pay
At the gate to greet him home from work every day
With wagging stumpy tail and an excited bark
As if to say master take me to fetch ball in the park
Just a friendly small dog with a stump of a tail
But when it comes to devotion and loyalty he never does fail.
Yet when it comes to trust and loyalty his master he never fail
One who will never know of canine renown
Yet to his mentor he is the best dog in the town
With a ball or a stick he loves for to play
Just a friendly terrier friendly in every way
Yet his master with his life he'd defend
It is true what is said of a four legged friend
Respect for his master in love and devotion he does pay
At the gate to greet him home from work every day
With wagging stumpy tail and an excited bark
As if to say master take me to fetch ball in the park
Just a friendly small dog with a stump of a tail
But when it comes to devotion and loyalty he never does fail.
Nice People
Your attitude to others is of your choice
It never does cost anything to be nice
Some spread the glow of joy in their friendly way
With their happy smile as they bid you good day
With what i say here most would surely agree
I do like the people who are not nice to me
Why should i like those who try to drag me down
Who would if they could run me out of the town
I do like people who have the inner glow
Nice people are people i do like to know
Those negative to me I'd rather not meet
Their arrogance born of too much self conceit
A smile and hello as they pass on their way
Nice people they help to bring joy to your day.
It never does cost anything to be nice
Some spread the glow of joy in their friendly way
With their happy smile as they bid you good day
With what i say here most would surely agree
I do like the people who are not nice to me
Why should i like those who try to drag me down
Who would if they could run me out of the town
I do like people who have the inner glow
Nice people are people i do like to know
Those negative to me I'd rather not meet
Their arrogance born of too much self conceit
A smile and hello as they pass on their way
Nice people they help to bring joy to your day.
Of Their Negativity In General
Of their negativity in general one cannot help but note
But the politician who says positive things about political opponents would deserve one's vote
So many negative politicians in the World of today
So ordinary indeed in their ordinary way
Of their political opponents nothing good for to say
And respect to those of different viewpoints they refuse for to pay
They twist and bend words and with words like to play
And far too many people see that as okay
That they are our reflective mirror happens to be true
And what we receive from life is only our due
It does seem their ticket to success and renown
To bad mouth and keep running their opponents down
Most of their statements ambiguous are hard to believe
It is hard to trust those who like to deceive.
But the politician who says positive things about political opponents would deserve one's vote
So many negative politicians in the World of today
So ordinary indeed in their ordinary way
Of their political opponents nothing good for to say
And respect to those of different viewpoints they refuse for to pay
They twist and bend words and with words like to play
And far too many people see that as okay
That they are our reflective mirror happens to be true
And what we receive from life is only our due
It does seem their ticket to success and renown
To bad mouth and keep running their opponents down
Most of their statements ambiguous are hard to believe
It is hard to trust those who like to deceive.
Sunday, July 14, 2013
Your Daughter Was A Good Person
Your daughter was a good person i believe that to be true
And the fate that was her's surely was not her due
By bullies in the workplace she was driven to suicide
In such a tragic way your beloved young daughter died
For their part in her death a heavy fine they have paid
Though a greater example of them ought to be made
Workplace bullying ought to be looked on as a serious crime
And those found guilty of it serve at least two years of prison time
The bullies by all account have relocated to Interstate
If they feel sorry now it is sorry too late
Their behavior unmanly and cowardly and bad
Of their beautiful daughter they robbed a mum and dad
For the death of a young woman they must take the blame
And for the rest of their lives they must live with their shame.
And the fate that was her's surely was not her due
By bullies in the workplace she was driven to suicide
In such a tragic way your beloved young daughter died
For their part in her death a heavy fine they have paid
Though a greater example of them ought to be made
Workplace bullying ought to be looked on as a serious crime
And those found guilty of it serve at least two years of prison time
The bullies by all account have relocated to Interstate
If they feel sorry now it is sorry too late
Their behavior unmanly and cowardly and bad
Of their beautiful daughter they robbed a mum and dad
For the death of a young woman they must take the blame
And for the rest of their lives they must live with their shame.
For Our Ignorance And Stupidity
What we do to our natural environment to our own selves we do
To our Earth Mother who feeds us we owe it to her to
Respect her other life forms and their habitat not to destroy
We owe that to the children of the future every young girl and boy
Have we the right to deprive them of birdsong in the Spring?
For their won't be birdsong without birds for to sing
Far too many trees already been cut down
For to build polluting factories in the industrial town
The food that feeds every life form including humans on Mother Earth grow
But due to our greed for money disrespect to her we do show
Our behavior to the one we live off of is to say the least strange
In our abuse of our natural environment we hurry on Climate Change
For our ignorance and stupidity it does seem sad to say
That the children of the future will be made for to pay.
To our Earth Mother who feeds us we owe it to her to
Respect her other life forms and their habitat not to destroy
We owe that to the children of the future every young girl and boy
Have we the right to deprive them of birdsong in the Spring?
For their won't be birdsong without birds for to sing
Far too many trees already been cut down
For to build polluting factories in the industrial town
The food that feeds every life form including humans on Mother Earth grow
But due to our greed for money disrespect to her we do show
Our behavior to the one we live off of is to say the least strange
In our abuse of our natural environment we hurry on Climate Change
For our ignorance and stupidity it does seem sad to say
That the children of the future will be made for to pay.
To Be A Good Person
To be a good person is not that hard at all
Though your every good deed few may wish to recall
The praises of good people few ever do sing
But praise to a good person does not mean a thing
Good people help people for love not for greed
And they will stand by you when you are in need
You never do hear them put another down
The quiet achievers of their side of the town
Lets hear it for every good woman and man
The people who will help you out if they can
When you are in financial difficulties they come to your aid
And if you cannot repay them they do not ask to be repaid
They are indeed worthy of our unreserved praise
To every good person my toasting glass i raise.
Though your every good deed few may wish to recall
The praises of good people few ever do sing
But praise to a good person does not mean a thing
Good people help people for love not for greed
And they will stand by you when you are in need
You never do hear them put another down
The quiet achievers of their side of the town
Lets hear it for every good woman and man
The people who will help you out if they can
When you are in financial difficulties they come to your aid
And if you cannot repay them they do not ask to be repaid
They are indeed worthy of our unreserved praise
To every good person my toasting glass i raise.
Peg Coleman
She was mother of Billy and John Coleman two Millstreet sportsmen of sporting renown
And wife of Paddy of the Coleman Brothers reputable busisnessmen of Millstreet Town
A family woman devoted to her husband and children in life her friends in numbers they did grow
Peg Coleman will be missed by all who knew her and by her many friends in Minor Row,
She lived to be a good age in her nineties in nine decades there's many a night and day
Amongst the dead of Millstreet Town and Parish Peg Coleman now at peace forever lay
A good person she deserves to be remembered memories of her will outlive this simple rhyme
When i was a boy she was a mature woman and that is going back many years in time
Most of the adults of my childhood are now deceased and our biological clocks on our lives tick away
It would be great if we could live forever but for all of us a final night and day
Yes it would be nice if we could live forever but only Nature lives forever more
Peg Coleman she did live to be a great age for a decade of years at least with four score
To live that long in itself an achievement but she did live quite a successful life
A good mother to her sons John and Billy and to Paddy Coleman a devoted wife.
And wife of Paddy of the Coleman Brothers reputable busisnessmen of Millstreet Town
A family woman devoted to her husband and children in life her friends in numbers they did grow
Peg Coleman will be missed by all who knew her and by her many friends in Minor Row,
She lived to be a good age in her nineties in nine decades there's many a night and day
Amongst the dead of Millstreet Town and Parish Peg Coleman now at peace forever lay
A good person she deserves to be remembered memories of her will outlive this simple rhyme
When i was a boy she was a mature woman and that is going back many years in time
Most of the adults of my childhood are now deceased and our biological clocks on our lives tick away
It would be great if we could live forever but for all of us a final night and day
Yes it would be nice if we could live forever but only Nature lives forever more
Peg Coleman she did live to be a great age for a decade of years at least with four score
To live that long in itself an achievement but she did live quite a successful life
A good mother to her sons John and Billy and to Paddy Coleman a devoted wife.
Breda Broderick
She was Breda O Connor before becoming Pat Broderick's wife
In Millstreet she raised her children and lived there for the most of her life
But a heart that was full of kindness sad to say forever still
And she will be missed by many in the Town by Clara Hill,
In Millstreet in Duhallow the changes happening fast
And memories of times gone by are all that seem to last
Yet in memory she has not died as she was she does remain
And in our mental pictures of her she looks well and young again
I last saw Breda Broderick years ago and far away
In the West End of Millstreet Town on a cold November day
A harsh wind blew from Clara Hill quite cold enough to snow
But as ever she was happy she possessed the inner glow
In the minds of those who knew her she's still living and she hasn't aged a day
It is only her mortal remains in the Millstreet graveyard lay.
In Millstreet she raised her children and lived there for the most of her life
But a heart that was full of kindness sad to say forever still
And she will be missed by many in the Town by Clara Hill,
In Millstreet in Duhallow the changes happening fast
And memories of times gone by are all that seem to last
Yet in memory she has not died as she was she does remain
And in our mental pictures of her she looks well and young again
I last saw Breda Broderick years ago and far away
In the West End of Millstreet Town on a cold November day
A harsh wind blew from Clara Hill quite cold enough to snow
But as ever she was happy she possessed the inner glow
In the minds of those who knew her she's still living and she hasn't aged a day
It is only her mortal remains in the Millstreet graveyard lay.
Saturday, July 13, 2013
My Worth As A Rhymer
My worth as a rhymer i often do doubt
But in Nature i find heaps for to write about
The soughing sound the wind makes in the trees
And the buzzing of the flying insects and bees
Familiar to many and familiar to me
The song of the magpie the call of the pee wee
The beauty of Nature inspires me to rhyme
I loved her long before i reached my life's prime
I've loved her since i was a young school-going boy
And learning about her i still do enjoy
And my wonder of her only does seem to grow
Yet so little of her ways i know i do know
So much beauty in Nature to love and admire
And of singing her praises i never do tire.
But in Nature i find heaps for to write about
The soughing sound the wind makes in the trees
And the buzzing of the flying insects and bees
Familiar to many and familiar to me
The song of the magpie the call of the pee wee
The beauty of Nature inspires me to rhyme
I loved her long before i reached my life's prime
I've loved her since i was a young school-going boy
And learning about her i still do enjoy
And my wonder of her only does seem to grow
Yet so little of her ways i know i do know
So much beauty in Nature to love and admire
And of singing her praises i never do tire.
The Grieving Mother
The grieving mother liters of tears have shed
Since she found her lone child in the garage dead
From a rope tied to a steel beam by the neck he hung
To die for some it is never too young.
His first anniversary he died this day last year
And why he choose to end his life the reason not even clear
His father left her for another before their boy had reached the age of one
And on her own she had to raise her son.
In his eighteenth year he choose his way to die
That life can be cruel is surely not a lie
He did not live for to cast his first vote
And he did not even leave a suicide note.
From her the grief of loss it has not gone away
Today for her another tearful day
Single in her forty sixth year with her cross of grief to bear
It is true indeed that life can be unfair.
Since she found her lone child in the garage dead
From a rope tied to a steel beam by the neck he hung
To die for some it is never too young.
His first anniversary he died this day last year
And why he choose to end his life the reason not even clear
His father left her for another before their boy had reached the age of one
And on her own she had to raise her son.
In his eighteenth year he choose his way to die
That life can be cruel is surely not a lie
He did not live for to cast his first vote
And he did not even leave a suicide note.
From her the grief of loss it has not gone away
Today for her another tearful day
Single in her forty sixth year with her cross of grief to bear
It is true indeed that life can be unfair.
Couldn't Care Less
He is one who will never be burdened by stress
The one known to many as Couldn't Care Less
So happy go lucky and always carefree
To him laughter does seem to come easily
There is such great warmth in his cheerful hello
And joy seems to go with him to where-ever he go
The one who does a few good deeds every day
To help others he does go out of his way
The worst day for him he does not see as bad
I've yet to see him feeling moody or sad
Respect to the feelings of others he does pay
An inspirational sort of a character in his own happy way
Well liked by all who know him in his side of the town
If he cannot help you he will not drag you down.
The one known to many as Couldn't Care Less
So happy go lucky and always carefree
To him laughter does seem to come easily
There is such great warmth in his cheerful hello
And joy seems to go with him to where-ever he go
The one who does a few good deeds every day
To help others he does go out of his way
The worst day for him he does not see as bad
I've yet to see him feeling moody or sad
Respect to the feelings of others he does pay
An inspirational sort of a character in his own happy way
Well liked by all who know him in his side of the town
If he cannot help you he will not drag you down.
She Is The One
She is the one who inspires the bards to rhyme
To pen songs for Nature never a waste of time
The birds by their voices one seldom gets wrong
Each species of bird becomes known by it's song
Yet our wonder of Nature it only does grow
And so much about her to learn and to know
And though we learn new things of her every day
Her secrets from us she keeps hidden away
The writers and artists and poets she inspire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire?
She is one I have loved since I was a young boy
And singing her praises a thing i enjoy
The one true immortal the facts never lie
Since all other life forms eventually do die.
To pen songs for Nature never a waste of time
The birds by their voices one seldom gets wrong
Each species of bird becomes known by it's song
Yet our wonder of Nature it only does grow
And so much about her to learn and to know
And though we learn new things of her every day
Her secrets from us she keeps hidden away
The writers and artists and poets she inspire
And of singing her praises could one ever tire?
She is one I have loved since I was a young boy
And singing her praises a thing i enjoy
The one true immortal the facts never lie
Since all other life forms eventually do die.
I Used To Daydream
I used to daydream i might be a poet
Or even one of minor literary note
And though our life aspirations we pursue
Daydreams for many never do come true
And though the years have left me balder, older and gray
I keep on penning more stuff every day
I hope to write until the day i die
If I told you otherwise it would be a lie
And though of my value as a writer i do doubt
Of life and Nature so much to write about
And though from my penning efforts no financial gain
The rhymes are always stirring in my brain
And on paper my simple rhymes i do jot down
Rhymers like me in every country town.
Or even one of minor literary note
And though our life aspirations we pursue
Daydreams for many never do come true
And though the years have left me balder, older and gray
I keep on penning more stuff every day
I hope to write until the day i die
If I told you otherwise it would be a lie
And though of my value as a writer i do doubt
Of life and Nature so much to write about
And though from my penning efforts no financial gain
The rhymes are always stirring in my brain
And on paper my simple rhymes i do jot down
Rhymers like me in every country town.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Ballydaly In Early February
A cold start to another cold Winter's day
From the overnight frost the old fields looking gray
A cold wind is blowing from Caherbarnagh Hill
And the Cails bank high from Kippagh flows with a will
To join with Finnow In flood waters of brown
In Claraghatlea a mile from Millstreet Town
As a result of yesterday's heavy rain
Flood waters are babbling in the roadside drain
And hungry redwings chirping on the leafless trees
In temperatures of minus one degrees
In the farmyard in galvanize cattle shed
The hungry cows and bullocks bellow to be fed
And February is blowing out a cold chill
In the harsh wind from Caherbarnagh Hill.
From the overnight frost the old fields looking gray
A cold wind is blowing from Caherbarnagh Hill
And the Cails bank high from Kippagh flows with a will
To join with Finnow In flood waters of brown
In Claraghatlea a mile from Millstreet Town
As a result of yesterday's heavy rain
Flood waters are babbling in the roadside drain
And hungry redwings chirping on the leafless trees
In temperatures of minus one degrees
In the farmyard in galvanize cattle shed
The hungry cows and bullocks bellow to be fed
And February is blowing out a cold chill
In the harsh wind from Caherbarnagh Hill.
The Hard Working Fellow
In his working life for him never an easy pay
The hard working fellow was buried today
A victim of cancer he lived for forty one years
His wife and two teenage daughters at his graveside in tears.
As human life go his was not a long span
The hard working fellow a good family man
He always did have a big smile on his face
In the lives of his family none to take his place.
He did not live on to grow bald old and gray
After a year of great suffering at peace he now lay
Many who knew and loved him of his passing said
He had already suffered too much and is better off dead.
To his gift of life to the end he did cling
The hard working fellow has lived his last Spring
He will not be seen in the flesh in his neighborhood again
But amongst family and friends good memories of him will remain.
The hard working fellow was buried today
A victim of cancer he lived for forty one years
His wife and two teenage daughters at his graveside in tears.
As human life go his was not a long span
The hard working fellow a good family man
He always did have a big smile on his face
In the lives of his family none to take his place.
He did not live on to grow bald old and gray
After a year of great suffering at peace he now lay
Many who knew and loved him of his passing said
He had already suffered too much and is better off dead.
To his gift of life to the end he did cling
The hard working fellow has lived his last Spring
He will not be seen in the flesh in his neighborhood again
But amongst family and friends good memories of him will remain.
Try To Make The Most Of Life
Try to make the most of life and enjoy every day
Before time it does catch up on you it ticks and ticks away
Yes time does not wait for anyone it did not wait for me
My best years are behind me i now am sixty three
The years have left me older and wrinkled balder and gray
My best years are behind me i have known a better day
Some that i went to school with in eternal rest now lay
On how long we live and when we die the Reaper has the say
Why ruin the good health that you have with hours of needless stress
A few good hearty laughs a day can give rise to happiness
The longest lived human being in time does not have a long span
So enjoy life and make the most of every day for as long as you can
The heaviest troubles that you have to the troubles of some seem light
And just live every day as if it is your last and one day you will be right.
Before time it does catch up on you it ticks and ticks away
Yes time does not wait for anyone it did not wait for me
My best years are behind me i now am sixty three
The years have left me older and wrinkled balder and gray
My best years are behind me i have known a better day
Some that i went to school with in eternal rest now lay
On how long we live and when we die the Reaper has the say
Why ruin the good health that you have with hours of needless stress
A few good hearty laughs a day can give rise to happiness
The longest lived human being in time does not have a long span
So enjoy life and make the most of every day for as long as you can
The heaviest troubles that you have to the troubles of some seem light
And just live every day as if it is your last and one day you will be right.
The death Penaly Is Murder
You go to your house of worship to your God to pray
But that your Government execute people with you is okay
When you tell me that all bad people deserve to die
Are you trying to say Moses Fifth Commandment is a lie?
You tell me you live in a democracy
But it does not seem too democratic to me
All murder is wrong that you do not deny
But in the laws of your Government a life for a life does apply
And since with so called lawful executions you wholeheartedly agree
You are guilty like many of hypocrisy,
The blessings of a God i do not ask to receive
But the death penalty is murder that's what i believe
And those who believe every murderer should be made to die
Without saying so are saying Moses Fifth Commandment is a lie.
But that your Government execute people with you is okay
When you tell me that all bad people deserve to die
Are you trying to say Moses Fifth Commandment is a lie?
You tell me you live in a democracy
But it does not seem too democratic to me
All murder is wrong that you do not deny
But in the laws of your Government a life for a life does apply
And since with so called lawful executions you wholeheartedly agree
You are guilty like many of hypocrisy,
The blessings of a God i do not ask to receive
But the death penalty is murder that's what i believe
And those who believe every murderer should be made to die
Without saying so are saying Moses Fifth Commandment is a lie.
The Woods Around Old Marysville
The woods around old Marysville are looking green again
Though bad memories of the massive fire with the survivors will remain
Of family members friends and neighbors that they never more will see
Black Saturday February the seventh 2009 etched in their memory
Of the day the huge fire came to Marysville burning homes to the ground
Bringing death and leaving blackness in the countryside for miles around
A tragic day for Marysville where many lives were lost
And to add to the grief of the survivors the huge financial cost
Marysville legacy of Black Saturday of Nature's deadly ire
Death, heartbreak and financial ruin through the medium of fire
Grief for the dead in Marysville as well as in Kinglake
When Nature she grows angry she leaves sorrow in her wake
Blackness and desolation where the fires had burnt their way
But the woods are looking greener in Marysville today.
Though bad memories of the massive fire with the survivors will remain
Of family members friends and neighbors that they never more will see
Black Saturday February the seventh 2009 etched in their memory
Of the day the huge fire came to Marysville burning homes to the ground
Bringing death and leaving blackness in the countryside for miles around
A tragic day for Marysville where many lives were lost
And to add to the grief of the survivors the huge financial cost
Marysville legacy of Black Saturday of Nature's deadly ire
Death, heartbreak and financial ruin through the medium of fire
Grief for the dead in Marysville as well as in Kinglake
When Nature she grows angry she leaves sorrow in her wake
Blackness and desolation where the fires had burnt their way
But the woods are looking greener in Marysville today.
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Bill In His Days As A Farm-worker
Bill in his days as a farm-worker witnessed many plagues of mice
He said the damage done by the tiny creatures it wasn't very nice
For the farmer to look at some of his grain crop by them destroyed
To the huge dent in his profit he wasn't overjoyed.
Until in his forty fifth year he married Katie his now devoted wife
He was an itinerant farmworker for twenty five years of his life
From shearing to other Seasonal work, horsebreaker and Jackaroo
When it came to farm and ranch work not one thing he could not do.
His stories of the mice plagues in the Fall of the year
Are truly quite amazing good as one could wish to hear
On mostly every ear of wheat in the wheat fields a nibbling mouse to see
They multiplied in millions to the farmers poverty.
A mouse plague in the Autumn is every wheat farmer's fear
But in a span of three to four weeks most of the mice seemed to disappear
Just one of the many stories from his farm working days that old Bill loves to tell
If a publisher would publish them from book sales he'd do well.
He said the damage done by the tiny creatures it wasn't very nice
For the farmer to look at some of his grain crop by them destroyed
To the huge dent in his profit he wasn't overjoyed.
Until in his forty fifth year he married Katie his now devoted wife
He was an itinerant farmworker for twenty five years of his life
From shearing to other Seasonal work, horsebreaker and Jackaroo
When it came to farm and ranch work not one thing he could not do.
His stories of the mice plagues in the Fall of the year
Are truly quite amazing good as one could wish to hear
On mostly every ear of wheat in the wheat fields a nibbling mouse to see
They multiplied in millions to the farmers poverty.
A mouse plague in the Autumn is every wheat farmer's fear
But in a span of three to four weeks most of the mice seemed to disappear
Just one of the many stories from his farm working days that old Bill loves to tell
If a publisher would publish them from book sales he'd do well.
I Once Was A Boy As You Are Now
I once was a boy as you are now when my hair was dark brown
In Claraghatlea far north of here near famous Millstreet Town
The sports i played and that you play as different as can be
But your strong bond to Nature makes you similar to me
The yellow robin and the rufous whistler, the magpie and the pale eyed crow
Birds that live in the nearby wood by their voices you know
When i was young in Claraghatlea i knew most birds by their song
The dunnock, chaffinch and goldfinch one never could get wrong,
In a World of billions of people the Human World of today
Nature in need of every friend that would seem fair to say
Due to habitat destruction due to financial greed wild creatures becoming rare
More species nearer to extinction for every new millionaire
I once was a boy as you are now but that was long ago
Far north of here near Millstreet Town where Finnow waters flow.
In Claraghatlea far north of here near famous Millstreet Town
The sports i played and that you play as different as can be
But your strong bond to Nature makes you similar to me
The yellow robin and the rufous whistler, the magpie and the pale eyed crow
Birds that live in the nearby wood by their voices you know
When i was young in Claraghatlea i knew most birds by their song
The dunnock, chaffinch and goldfinch one never could get wrong,
In a World of billions of people the Human World of today
Nature in need of every friend that would seem fair to say
Due to habitat destruction due to financial greed wild creatures becoming rare
More species nearer to extinction for every new millionaire
I once was a boy as you are now but that was long ago
Far north of here near Millstreet Town where Finnow waters flow.
Rick From Portsmouth
Not one recognized him on the street as he walked up and down
He felt like a stranger in his old Hometown
A stranger to everyone that he did meet
And even a stranger on his old home street
When he went for a holiday to there last year in May
Rick from Portsmouth had been forty years away
He says i will never go back there again
But fond memories of what used to be i retain
He says in this Country till i die i will stay
And under Australian earth my remains will lay
I'll never again hear Atlantic waves roar
And crash against the rocky cliffs of England's shore
And Portsmouth now to him just a memory
The Town he was raised in by the Atlantic Sea.
He felt like a stranger in his old Hometown
A stranger to everyone that he did meet
And even a stranger on his old home street
When he went for a holiday to there last year in May
Rick from Portsmouth had been forty years away
He says i will never go back there again
But fond memories of what used to be i retain
He says in this Country till i die i will stay
And under Australian earth my remains will lay
I'll never again hear Atlantic waves roar
And crash against the rocky cliffs of England's shore
And Portsmouth now to him just a memory
The Town he was raised in by the Atlantic Sea.
Like Many The Very Thought Of Death
Like many the very thought of death i fear
Yet for me with each ticks of the clock that moment draws near
The moment when the last life sustaining breath of air i will draw
To be born to die that is Nature's law
Is this what life's about to be born to die
Though religious people are convinced the life hereafter is not based on a lie
They believe that in God's Paradise they will live in eternal happiness
If on Earth by their devotion the supreme one they impress
And what hope for me a sort of infidel
Who does not believe in a heaven or a hell
Most religious people would only foresee
A hereafter of unhappiness for one such as me
But like the words in the song whatever will be will be
And hell cannot be much worse than Earthly poverty.
Yet for me with each ticks of the clock that moment draws near
The moment when the last life sustaining breath of air i will draw
To be born to die that is Nature's law
Is this what life's about to be born to die
Though religious people are convinced the life hereafter is not based on a lie
They believe that in God's Paradise they will live in eternal happiness
If on Earth by their devotion the supreme one they impress
And what hope for me a sort of infidel
Who does not believe in a heaven or a hell
Most religious people would only foresee
A hereafter of unhappiness for one such as me
But like the words in the song whatever will be will be
And hell cannot be much worse than Earthly poverty.
Baby Ella Gibson
Cannot understand a word she does say
Yet she is so clever in her baby way
She crawls around the kitchen floor
And opens every cupboard door
The year old daughter of Lisa and Shane
Ella Gibson does try hard to explain
Through her laughter and her tears her sense of joy and pain
Of such beautiful childhood innocence great memories to retain,
Her natural blond hair and big blue eyes
Each new thing for her a big surprise
As she tries to master the art of climbing and speech
High things on shelves she tries to reach,
Their innocence a marvelous thing
Joy to the World young children bring.
Yet she is so clever in her baby way
She crawls around the kitchen floor
And opens every cupboard door
The year old daughter of Lisa and Shane
Ella Gibson does try hard to explain
Through her laughter and her tears her sense of joy and pain
Of such beautiful childhood innocence great memories to retain,
Her natural blond hair and big blue eyes
Each new thing for her a big surprise
As she tries to master the art of climbing and speech
High things on shelves she tries to reach,
Their innocence a marvelous thing
Joy to the World young children bring.
Wednesday, July 10, 2013
What Sounds Good To You
What sounds good to you does not sound good to me
The blare of rock music with my senses does not agree
The loud stereo in your car that you do play
You well may live for to regret one day
Still that is your music the greatest sound you have known
And like it is said by some to each their own
And though in loss of hearing for your love of rock music you may pay
To each their own again to you i do say
Of rock music I've never been a fan
To you I'm just one more old fashioned man
And though i understand your point of view
Hard rock is something that's no longer new
You love hard rock and that does suit me fine
But your sort of music could never be mine.
The blare of rock music with my senses does not agree
The loud stereo in your car that you do play
You well may live for to regret one day
Still that is your music the greatest sound you have known
And like it is said by some to each their own
And though in loss of hearing for your love of rock music you may pay
To each their own again to you i do say
Of rock music I've never been a fan
To you I'm just one more old fashioned man
And though i understand your point of view
Hard rock is something that's no longer new
You love hard rock and that does suit me fine
But your sort of music could never be mine.
Your Business Your Own
It is something i thought for your age you'd have known
Your life is your business and your business your own
What matter if others your praises don't sing
You're not breaking the law and you do your own thing
For collecting the wings of dead butterflies
That your ex mates laugh at you is not a surprise
But they are more silly than you overall
On Saturday with others they kick and chase a ball
In a man's World sport is seen as okay
But that said what is a man's World anyway
To play football with your favorite football club
And guzzle down beer with your mates in the pub
Since they were never your mates going by what they say of you
Keep collecting butterfly wings if that's what you like to do.
Your life is your business and your business your own
What matter if others your praises don't sing
You're not breaking the law and you do your own thing
For collecting the wings of dead butterflies
That your ex mates laugh at you is not a surprise
But they are more silly than you overall
On Saturday with others they kick and chase a ball
In a man's World sport is seen as okay
But that said what is a man's World anyway
To play football with your favorite football club
And guzzle down beer with your mates in the pub
Since they were never your mates going by what they say of you
Keep collecting butterfly wings if that's what you like to do.
Money Surely Does Matter
A beautiful young woman with wavy shoulder length hair of dark brown
She goes by the title of Pride of the Town
In her early twenties yet to be a wife
Though she does have a far older man in her life.
He is in his early seventies those who know him do say
With anti aging creams and blond hair dye he covers his wrinkles and gray
But he has heaps of money a substantial amount
And money to most people does seem to count.
The lover of the former lover of his oldest grandson that does seem a bit sad
That he lost his woman to his dear old grand-dad
Money speaks every language as some like to say
In this instance it surely does seem this way.
For a man who is aging many years past his life's prime
To make love to one in her twenties is never a crime
He wooed her from the arms of his oldest grandson
Money surely does matter when all is said and done.
She goes by the title of Pride of the Town
In her early twenties yet to be a wife
Though she does have a far older man in her life.
He is in his early seventies those who know him do say
With anti aging creams and blond hair dye he covers his wrinkles and gray
But he has heaps of money a substantial amount
And money to most people does seem to count.
The lover of the former lover of his oldest grandson that does seem a bit sad
That he lost his woman to his dear old grand-dad
Money speaks every language as some like to say
In this instance it surely does seem this way.
For a man who is aging many years past his life's prime
To make love to one in her twenties is never a crime
He wooed her from the arms of his oldest grandson
Money surely does matter when all is said and done.
The Young Millionaire May Be Living Today
Of a massive heart attack he did die suddenly
A young enough man with a young wife and family
On his birthday last August he turned thirty three
A young millionaire in ways financially.
His wife and four year old daughter won't be in poverty
In their two storey home in the town by the sea
And you who read this do not pity his wife
For with his money she can enjoy the good life.
Perhaps money the cause of his shorter life span
For though tall and well built he was quite an overweight man
Far too little exercise and too much to drink and eat
Of beer and of chocolate and far too much meat.
The praises of money many well may sing
But too much of anything not a good thing
The young millionaire may be living today
Had he to cycle to work and sweat for his pay.
A young enough man with a young wife and family
On his birthday last August he turned thirty three
A young millionaire in ways financially.
His wife and four year old daughter won't be in poverty
In their two storey home in the town by the sea
And you who read this do not pity his wife
For with his money she can enjoy the good life.
Perhaps money the cause of his shorter life span
For though tall and well built he was quite an overweight man
Far too little exercise and too much to drink and eat
Of beer and of chocolate and far too much meat.
The praises of money many well may sing
But too much of anything not a good thing
The young millionaire may be living today
Had he to cycle to work and sweat for his pay.
Why Talk About War To An Anti War One Like Me
Why talk about war to an anti war one like me
Since you know with what you say of it i won't agree
Since talking of military matters I'd rather decline
And your sort of heroes will never be mine
Your points about war to me you've already made
Though i won't march with you in the war parade
With you the like minded will stand at your side
Whilst you wave the flag with great fervor and pride
It is good in a way we see things differently
If we all thought in the same way how boring we'd be
Waving our National flags as we walk up and down
To the beat of the war drums through the streets of the town
You do love the National flag but so too do i
But for the flag i would not shoot to kill or die.
Since you know with what you say of it i won't agree
Since talking of military matters I'd rather decline
And your sort of heroes will never be mine
Your points about war to me you've already made
Though i won't march with you in the war parade
With you the like minded will stand at your side
Whilst you wave the flag with great fervor and pride
It is good in a way we see things differently
If we all thought in the same way how boring we'd be
Waving our National flags as we walk up and down
To the beat of the war drums through the streets of the town
You do love the National flag but so too do i
But for the flag i would not shoot to kill or die.
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Us Humans Are So Competitive
We were all born of a woman and before we learned to walk we had to crawl
And like all life forms we are mortal and death is for us all
Us humans are so competitive for success with each other we compete
That is why a happy person every day one does not meet
For to get a job promotion the manager you must impress
In the twenty first century you are judged by career success
The values society place on people to me does seem all wrong
Those not seen to be successful to the losers club belong
From the pauper to the billionaire to the person on the dole
For each and everyone of us there is some pigeon hole
Yet for the pauper and the billionaire there is a final Spring
And of the greatest egalitarian the praises we never sing
Yes Nature's own Grim Reaper is an egalitarian beyond compare
The one feared by everybody any life does not spare.
And like all life forms we are mortal and death is for us all
Us humans are so competitive for success with each other we compete
That is why a happy person every day one does not meet
For to get a job promotion the manager you must impress
In the twenty first century you are judged by career success
The values society place on people to me does seem all wrong
Those not seen to be successful to the losers club belong
From the pauper to the billionaire to the person on the dole
For each and everyone of us there is some pigeon hole
Yet for the pauper and the billionaire there is a final Spring
And of the greatest egalitarian the praises we never sing
Yes Nature's own Grim Reaper is an egalitarian beyond compare
The one feared by everybody any life does not spare.
In The Busy Big Town
On the sidewalks many people walk up and down
I am a stranger in the busy big town
Of few happy faces where few say hello
The big town where many come to and from go
In big industrial towns where many reside
There in an abundance of parochial pride
Where the locals without meaning for to be rude
From their social lives non locals tend to exclude
Where every face to you is a stranger's face
In such a surrounding one feels out of place
And where you are a stranger in everyone's eyes
The emptiness of loneliness you come to realize
A town where many stop in passing each day
But a town where few strangers do wish for to stay.
I am a stranger in the busy big town
Of few happy faces where few say hello
The big town where many come to and from go
In big industrial towns where many reside
There in an abundance of parochial pride
Where the locals without meaning for to be rude
From their social lives non locals tend to exclude
Where every face to you is a stranger's face
In such a surrounding one feels out of place
And where you are a stranger in everyone's eyes
The emptiness of loneliness you come to realize
A town where many stop in passing each day
But a town where few strangers do wish for to stay.
The One Who Tells Me
The one who tells me i waste far too much time
On thinking of and composing doggerel rhyme
Is one who does not know of live and let live
And advice never listens to though such he likes to give
Yet to meet one like him one need not have to look far
Suppose like it is said we are what we are
Some men they grow older they never grow wise
And that others too have feelings they never come to realize
They only look for flaws in others and self never come to know
And with the passing of the Seasons sillier they do grow
The beauty in self enlightenment they do seem to miss
It does seem quite true that ignorance can be bliss
To give free advice he goes out of his way
Yet none ever pay heed to what he does say.
On thinking of and composing doggerel rhyme
Is one who does not know of live and let live
And advice never listens to though such he likes to give
Yet to meet one like him one need not have to look far
Suppose like it is said we are what we are
Some men they grow older they never grow wise
And that others too have feelings they never come to realize
They only look for flaws in others and self never come to know
And with the passing of the Seasons sillier they do grow
The beauty in self enlightenment they do seem to miss
It does seem quite true that ignorance can be bliss
To give free advice he goes out of his way
Yet none ever pay heed to what he does say.
I Wonder How A Man
I wonder how a man should behave towards his wife
Should he love her till he draw his last breath of life
And agree with everything that she has to say
And tell her he loves her many times a day?
Or spend far more time with his mates at the pub
Discussing the welfare of the football club
And leave his wife at home of their children to take care?
The ideal sort of husband to say the least rare.
In the company of men i have spent too much time
Played football, worked and drunk alcohol with them back in my life's prime
To females us males are of different kind
To every good man ten good women you'll find.
Respect to all women all men ought to show
But how a man should behave towards his woman i hardly would know
Since i have never been known as a ladies man
And I'm now in the Autumn years of my life's span.
Should he love her till he draw his last breath of life
And agree with everything that she has to say
And tell her he loves her many times a day?
Or spend far more time with his mates at the pub
Discussing the welfare of the football club
And leave his wife at home of their children to take care?
The ideal sort of husband to say the least rare.
In the company of men i have spent too much time
Played football, worked and drunk alcohol with them back in my life's prime
To females us males are of different kind
To every good man ten good women you'll find.
Respect to all women all men ought to show
But how a man should behave towards his woman i hardly would know
Since i have never been known as a ladies man
And I'm now in the Autumn years of my life's span.
It Is Only A Fact We Are Born To Die
It is only a fact we are born to die
The same for the horse and cow as you and i
For the wealthy and famous and the poor strangers to fame
At the end of life's journey it will be the same,
To the scythe of the Reaper the great tree eventually does fall
And what applies to the tree does apply to us all
Immortality not even for human kind
The greats of human history amongst the dead you will find
The sheep in the paddock in many ways similar to me
We both have been born into mortality
The sheep is a herbivore humans like meat
And her kind as mutton we do like to eat
But what goes for her goes for you and i
As mortals like her we were born to die.
The same for the horse and cow as you and i
For the wealthy and famous and the poor strangers to fame
At the end of life's journey it will be the same,
To the scythe of the Reaper the great tree eventually does fall
And what applies to the tree does apply to us all
Immortality not even for human kind
The greats of human history amongst the dead you will find
The sheep in the paddock in many ways similar to me
We both have been born into mortality
The sheep is a herbivore humans like meat
And her kind as mutton we do like to eat
But what goes for her goes for you and i
As mortals like her we were born to die.
Monday, July 8, 2013
So What If I
So what if i am one who pen doggerel
Of my life i too do have stories to tell
If you call yourself poet with me that is okay
We all need to be loved that is our human way
Yet you do not give credit to where credit is due
Judge not and thou shalt not be judged too applies to you
Cruel things about others are not hard to say
With your own sense of self importance you get carried away
Your negative habit of putting others down
Will never make you the best liked one in town
Before running down others look into your own mind
Though you may not like what in there you do find
Of insulting people as you are far too many I've known
My rhymes may not be poetry but they are my own.
Of my life i too do have stories to tell
If you call yourself poet with me that is okay
We all need to be loved that is our human way
Yet you do not give credit to where credit is due
Judge not and thou shalt not be judged too applies to you
Cruel things about others are not hard to say
With your own sense of self importance you get carried away
Your negative habit of putting others down
Will never make you the best liked one in town
Before running down others look into your own mind
Though you may not like what in there you do find
Of insulting people as you are far too many I've known
My rhymes may not be poetry but they are my own.
Mutual Admiration
As a poet you keep getting better like good aging wine
Your work quite outstanding not a slipshod line
Your brilliant comment on my latest poem did suit me fine
It is my turn to praise your poetry since you have praised mine
One good turn deserves another that's how it should be
And now i will praise you since you have praised me
Unlike the roughshod rhymers who recite at the pub
The true poets read at our poetry club
And you do compare with the best
Your poems will survive the time test
And since you told me my poems are great
I look on you now as a mate
It is mutual admiration with us two
You have praised me and now I'll praise you.
Your work quite outstanding not a slipshod line
Your brilliant comment on my latest poem did suit me fine
It is my turn to praise your poetry since you have praised mine
One good turn deserves another that's how it should be
And now i will praise you since you have praised me
Unlike the roughshod rhymers who recite at the pub
The true poets read at our poetry club
And you do compare with the best
Your poems will survive the time test
And since you told me my poems are great
I look on you now as a mate
It is mutual admiration with us two
You have praised me and now I'll praise you.
Like Young John
In your short sleeved shirt and shorts walking in the town
You look relaxed, healthy and brown
From lying in the sun you do have a nice tan
Though hopefully not at the expense of a shorter life span
Young John he was buried today
Far too young to die many did say
Of skin cancer at twenty nine
One more victim of too much sunshine
In height of Summer in shorts and singlets if you jog or run
Or lay in the hot afternoon sun
You may not live to grow old and gray
For to die in a natural way
For too much love of the sun with your life you might pay
Like young John who was buried today.
You look relaxed, healthy and brown
From lying in the sun you do have a nice tan
Though hopefully not at the expense of a shorter life span
Young John he was buried today
Far too young to die many did say
Of skin cancer at twenty nine
One more victim of too much sunshine
In height of Summer in shorts and singlets if you jog or run
Or lay in the hot afternoon sun
You may not live to grow old and gray
For to die in a natural way
For too much love of the sun with your life you might pay
Like young John who was buried today.
Mary Brigid Ring
The gift of memory is a marvelous thing
I still remember Mary Brigid Ring
In all weather sunny, windy, wet and cold and cool
From Coolinarne she cycled to and from the Millstreet Secondary Convent School.
A few years older than me far as I know
Her wavy hair dark as wing of a crow
She had great warmth in her cheerful hello
I am going back some fifty years ago.
Back then a budding rose of beauty rare
Yet of such she did not seem aware
Untainted by conceit and free of guile
I do recall she had a lovely smile.
When she left Coolinarne her I never more did see
But she does live on in my memory
And sad to read that she did pass away
Far from Coolinarne in the U S A.
I still remember Mary Brigid Ring
In all weather sunny, windy, wet and cold and cool
From Coolinarne she cycled to and from the Millstreet Secondary Convent School.
A few years older than me far as I know
Her wavy hair dark as wing of a crow
She had great warmth in her cheerful hello
I am going back some fifty years ago.
Back then a budding rose of beauty rare
Yet of such she did not seem aware
Untainted by conceit and free of guile
I do recall she had a lovely smile.
When she left Coolinarne her I never more did see
But she does live on in my memory
And sad to read that she did pass away
Far from Coolinarne in the U S A.
The Great Footballers Of Brazil
Unrivaled for their football skill
The great footballers of Brazil
And though they too have known of defeat
In the World Cup one of the hardest teams to beat
The present World Champions are Italy
The World's best team as most would agree
But in the showpiece of World Football
Brazil have the best record of all
To Italy the 2006 World Champions well done
They were the best and the best won
But in 2010 their title they defend
A hard task of that why pretend
And one of their main threats is surely Brazil
A team known for their football skill.
The great footballers of Brazil
And though they too have known of defeat
In the World Cup one of the hardest teams to beat
The present World Champions are Italy
The World's best team as most would agree
But in the showpiece of World Football
Brazil have the best record of all
To Italy the 2006 World Champions well done
They were the best and the best won
But in 2010 their title they defend
A hard task of that why pretend
And one of their main threats is surely Brazil
A team known for their football skill.
Sunday, July 7, 2013
To Be A Good Person
One only can hope to live good as one can
To be a good woman or be a good man
To learn how to receive you must know how to give
And live by the moral of live and let live
Most people in their ways can be good and kind
But if you only look for flaws in others then flaws you will find
You never will become the toast of the town
If in your words you do like to put others down
You can only be the best that you can be
And if you look for good in others then good you will see
And if you cannot say good things of others nothing of them say
You are doing well in life if you can live in this way
On learning to walk the child often does fall
And to be a good person not easy at all.
To be a good woman or be a good man
To learn how to receive you must know how to give
And live by the moral of live and let live
Most people in their ways can be good and kind
But if you only look for flaws in others then flaws you will find
You never will become the toast of the town
If in your words you do like to put others down
You can only be the best that you can be
And if you look for good in others then good you will see
And if you cannot say good things of others nothing of them say
You are doing well in life if you can live in this way
On learning to walk the child often does fall
And to be a good person not easy at all.
I Envy Them
I envy them who never yearn for riches and renown
Who with others never compete for success in their side of the town
Quite happy with their lot in life and easily satisfied
The smiling Goddess of Happiness is surely on their side
With others in them they don't have the need for success to compete
For to be best in their neighbourhood or be best on their street
For the demon greed of unhappiness in their minds there's no space
The Human World for them in it is a far happier place
I envy them for their happiness they do know of mind ease
It can be truly said of them that they are not hard to please
At living happy sort of lives they surely do succeed
In that sense one can say of them that they know of success indeed
They feel quite happy in their lives and enjoy every day
And they are successful people in their own sort of way.
Who with others never compete for success in their side of the town
Quite happy with their lot in life and easily satisfied
The smiling Goddess of Happiness is surely on their side
With others in them they don't have the need for success to compete
For to be best in their neighbourhood or be best on their street
For the demon greed of unhappiness in their minds there's no space
The Human World for them in it is a far happier place
I envy them for their happiness they do know of mind ease
It can be truly said of them that they are not hard to please
At living happy sort of lives they surely do succeed
In that sense one can say of them that they know of success indeed
They feel quite happy in their lives and enjoy every day
And they are successful people in their own sort of way.
No Need To Tell Me Of The Death Of Rhyme
No need to tell me of the death of rhyme
Or of the prose like poetry of our time
And when you tell me that poets are only few
You are not saying anything that is new
But when you tell me what is or is not poetry
Then this is where we come to disagree
Your ideas on what is poetry with me fine
Though they are very different to mine
We all do look at life quite differently
And what's great to you may not be so to me
Through our different eyes a different World we do see
That's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
Long before you were born back in my life's prime
In a changing Literary World the death took place of rhyme.
Or of the prose like poetry of our time
And when you tell me that poets are only few
You are not saying anything that is new
But when you tell me what is or is not poetry
Then this is where we come to disagree
Your ideas on what is poetry with me fine
Though they are very different to mine
We all do look at life quite differently
And what's great to you may not be so to me
Through our different eyes a different World we do see
That's how it is and that's how 'twill always be
Long before you were born back in my life's prime
In a changing Literary World the death took place of rhyme.
Though Aging
Though aging I'm fairly healthy fit and strong
And i feel happy i have lived this long
And though my best years long gone and old age near ahead
Some i went to school with are amongst the dead
But memories of what was with me remain
And in fancy i visit the old fields again
When tadpoles are wriggling in the watery drain
And wildflowers bloom after showers of April rain
And in their breeding territories of Spring
The breeding male birds to proclaim their borders sing
I feel happy such things i can still recall
For i am getting older after all.
And i feel happy i have lived this long
And though my best years long gone and old age near ahead
Some i went to school with are amongst the dead
But memories of what was with me remain
And in fancy i visit the old fields again
When tadpoles are wriggling in the watery drain
And wildflowers bloom after showers of April rain
And in their breeding territories of Spring
The breeding male birds to proclaim their borders sing
I feel happy such things i can still recall
For i am getting older after all.
Leave It To Those
Leave it to those with extreme love for their Nation's flag to fight
Leave them to go to war for it since that is their right
Though the reasons for most wars are based on a lie
Leave them to for what they believe in to fight to kill or die
Since the lessons of life he does not wish to know
Leave the one of good health in his eighties his courage to show
In a war zone remove his excuse for not going as his age
Amongst young and aged co warriors leave him to spend his rage
Though getting on in years still not hard to deceive
What their Government leaders tell them without question they believe
Leave the Government leaders who declare war their troops in the war zones lead
Of a President fighting in a war zone we have yet to hear of or read
Remove the excuse of an age barrier for those who want war
Send them with the younger men to fight from home in places far.
Leave them to go to war for it since that is their right
Though the reasons for most wars are based on a lie
Leave them to for what they believe in to fight to kill or die
Since the lessons of life he does not wish to know
Leave the one of good health in his eighties his courage to show
In a war zone remove his excuse for not going as his age
Amongst young and aged co warriors leave him to spend his rage
Though getting on in years still not hard to deceive
What their Government leaders tell them without question they believe
Leave the Government leaders who declare war their troops in the war zones lead
Of a President fighting in a war zone we have yet to hear of or read
Remove the excuse of an age barrier for those who want war
Send them with the younger men to fight from home in places far.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
He Is PoemHunter's Favorite Son
He is PoemHunter's favorite son
And he feels he's God's own chosen one
In P H's forums every day
He surely does love to have his say.
He does not like the poets at Poetfreak
He calls them things far worse than weak
His wishes they do not obey
From P H some of them did stray.
Yet it does not come as a surprise
That at the P H forum some look up to him as wise
To them his is an enlightened mind
Amongst humanity you'll find every kind.
Some of PoemHunter's best to him refused to bow
Their loyalty rest with Poetfreak now
On them a bitter satire he did write
Some of his words come with a nasty bite.
For successfully wooing some of PoemHunter's best
The Poetfreak Webmaster he detest
And by his bitter words not hard to tell
That all with PoemHunter's favourite son of late not well.
The young boy deprived of some of his toys
Naturally complains as do most boys
Just like PoemHunter's favourite son
Who moans about wrongs to him done.
And he feels he's God's own chosen one
In P H's forums every day
He surely does love to have his say.
He does not like the poets at Poetfreak
He calls them things far worse than weak
His wishes they do not obey
From P H some of them did stray.
Yet it does not come as a surprise
That at the P H forum some look up to him as wise
To them his is an enlightened mind
Amongst humanity you'll find every kind.
Some of PoemHunter's best to him refused to bow
Their loyalty rest with Poetfreak now
On them a bitter satire he did write
Some of his words come with a nasty bite.
For successfully wooing some of PoemHunter's best
The Poetfreak Webmaster he detest
And by his bitter words not hard to tell
That all with PoemHunter's favourite son of late not well.
The young boy deprived of some of his toys
Naturally complains as do most boys
Just like PoemHunter's favourite son
Who moans about wrongs to him done.
He's No Less Of A Man Than You Are
He's no less of a man than you are the one who can shed tears
Don't tell me how tough you are I've lived for too many years
And I've known macho types and manly stuff from them i did hear
Though machoism is a thing that i do not hold dear
I've seen brave men far braver than you for to weep
Unafraid to show their feelings their sorrow was deep
You are not man enough your feelings to show
Of what manhood is about you hardly would know
Boasting of how tough you are you seem to enjoy
You do sound a bit like the schoolyard bully boy
Talking tough trying to prove what a brave man you are
But for to find one braver one would not have to look far
In your thirtieth year of life not a twelve year old lad
To think your feelings you cannot show seems a little bit sad.
Don't tell me how tough you are I've lived for too many years
And I've known macho types and manly stuff from them i did hear
Though machoism is a thing that i do not hold dear
I've seen brave men far braver than you for to weep
Unafraid to show their feelings their sorrow was deep
You are not man enough your feelings to show
Of what manhood is about you hardly would know
Boasting of how tough you are you seem to enjoy
You do sound a bit like the schoolyard bully boy
Talking tough trying to prove what a brave man you are
But for to find one braver one would not have to look far
In your thirtieth year of life not a twelve year old lad
To think your feelings you cannot show seems a little bit sad.
The Thing Known As Fear
On the spiritual journey to the higher self many have lost their way
Far too much criminal violence in the Human World of today
Though for their sins they know the price will be quite high to pay
Still old Moses Fifth Commandment some refuse to obey
It should be a basic human right that in the unlit park at night
That one without fear should be able to walk in the moonlight
But even in so called free Countries there is no guarantee
Of harm from another so it does seem to me
Though the people of such Countries live in a democracy
In name and name only they are known as free
To live free of violence from others should be a basic human right
But if without fear you cannot walk the streets at night
Sensing danger to you lurking everywhere near
Then you are a prisoner of the thing known as fear.
Far too much criminal violence in the Human World of today
Though for their sins they know the price will be quite high to pay
Still old Moses Fifth Commandment some refuse to obey
It should be a basic human right that in the unlit park at night
That one without fear should be able to walk in the moonlight
But even in so called free Countries there is no guarantee
Of harm from another so it does seem to me
Though the people of such Countries live in a democracy
In name and name only they are known as free
To live free of violence from others should be a basic human right
But if without fear you cannot walk the streets at night
Sensing danger to you lurking everywhere near
Then you are a prisoner of the thing known as fear.
On A Nice Day In The Parkland
The day is sunny, warm and breezy over thirty degrees
And the pee wee of the magpie lark is floating in the breeze
And children laugh in the playground of the parkland by the sea
And flies and bees are buzzing around flowering bush and tree
The harsh calls of the red wattlebirds a familiar sound to me
Even in the big town parkland Nature's beauty for to see
And every day of Nature we learn something new
Her species of flora and fauna are many and her secrets are not few
From the marvellous book of Nature we are learning every day
One can truly say the monarch of all she does survey
Us humans too are part of her we are her family
But with what I have to say on that many would not agree
The pale eyed crows are cawing atop the norfolk pine
On a nice day in the parkland for to walk in the sunshine.
And the pee wee of the magpie lark is floating in the breeze
And children laugh in the playground of the parkland by the sea
And flies and bees are buzzing around flowering bush and tree
The harsh calls of the red wattlebirds a familiar sound to me
Even in the big town parkland Nature's beauty for to see
And every day of Nature we learn something new
Her species of flora and fauna are many and her secrets are not few
From the marvellous book of Nature we are learning every day
One can truly say the monarch of all she does survey
Us humans too are part of her we are her family
But with what I have to say on that many would not agree
The pale eyed crows are cawing atop the norfolk pine
On a nice day in the parkland for to walk in the sunshine.
Kathleen Corcoran And Peter Dineen
Two good people who in Millstreet Parish will never more be seen
But amongst friends and families and those who knew them memories of them evergreen
Kathleen Corcoran a good woman who lived in Dooneen
And a quiet man from Cloghoula likeable Peter Dineen.
In their Townlands by Millstreet Town they had lived for many years
And doubtless their funeral services did give rise to parting tears
For death is very final that does seem sad to say
And by Cashman's Hill in St Mary's their remains forever lay.
They are only dead physically in spirit they remain
And in our mental pictures we do see them again
From Cloghoula and from Dooneen they may well be gone
But in the minds of friends and families and those who knew them they are living on.
What can anyone ask of any human being only to live as their best
And what it takes to live as a good person Kathleen and Peter passed that test
One can only hope their departure from life was a painless release
And by Cashman's Hill forever their remains rest in peace.
But amongst friends and families and those who knew them memories of them evergreen
Kathleen Corcoran a good woman who lived in Dooneen
And a quiet man from Cloghoula likeable Peter Dineen.
In their Townlands by Millstreet Town they had lived for many years
And doubtless their funeral services did give rise to parting tears
For death is very final that does seem sad to say
And by Cashman's Hill in St Mary's their remains forever lay.
They are only dead physically in spirit they remain
And in our mental pictures we do see them again
From Cloghoula and from Dooneen they may well be gone
But in the minds of friends and families and those who knew them they are living on.
What can anyone ask of any human being only to live as their best
And what it takes to live as a good person Kathleen and Peter passed that test
One can only hope their departure from life was a painless release
And by Cashman's Hill forever their remains rest in peace.
Friday, July 5, 2013
The Children Of Poor And Dysfunctional Parents
The children of poor and dysfunctional parents of any success in life stand little chance
The odds seem stacked against them by their birth circumstance
For them life is an uphill battle a struggle every day
The lady of luck and fortune does never smile their way
Though some wealthy parents can also be dysfunctional it does seem fair to say
That the child born to such parents at least financially will be okay
For those who say money speaks every language are saying what is true
People respect people with money though respect they may not be due,
Pity the poor children who become homeless at a young age and become institutionalized
For most of them their full potential is never realized
In a fair Human World this would never be
By circumstance of birth i feel that good luck was with me
There are millions of homeless children in the World of today
Due to their circumstance of birth in which they had no say.
The odds seem stacked against them by their birth circumstance
For them life is an uphill battle a struggle every day
The lady of luck and fortune does never smile their way
Though some wealthy parents can also be dysfunctional it does seem fair to say
That the child born to such parents at least financially will be okay
For those who say money speaks every language are saying what is true
People respect people with money though respect they may not be due,
Pity the poor children who become homeless at a young age and become institutionalized
For most of them their full potential is never realized
In a fair Human World this would never be
By circumstance of birth i feel that good luck was with me
There are millions of homeless children in the World of today
Due to their circumstance of birth in which they had no say.
It Is Cold Now In Duhallow
The wintery wind from Tullig hill down through Aubane does blow
And the high fields by Mushera Mountain wear their blanket of snow
The wet fields by the river with frost are hoary gray
It is cold in Duhallow so very cold today.
Here in this Southern Country the weather warm and fine
In a forecast low of thirty a high of thirty nine
In the warm sun of the afternoon butterflies dance in the breeze
And the honeyeaters chirping on the blossom laden trees.
I don't think i could live in Ireland now in the cold and frost and rain
With the brown flood waters gurgling in the flooded roadside drain
And the frosted fields of morning gray from the overnight freeze
In temperatures of minus six to minus one degrees.
Still each Winter day in the Northlands is one day nearer Spring
When in the leafy woods and groves the nesting birds will sing
And the hawthorns will look resplendent in their white blooms of the May
Still it is cold now in Duhallow by the mountains far away.
And the high fields by Mushera Mountain wear their blanket of snow
The wet fields by the river with frost are hoary gray
It is cold in Duhallow so very cold today.
Here in this Southern Country the weather warm and fine
In a forecast low of thirty a high of thirty nine
In the warm sun of the afternoon butterflies dance in the breeze
And the honeyeaters chirping on the blossom laden trees.
I don't think i could live in Ireland now in the cold and frost and rain
With the brown flood waters gurgling in the flooded roadside drain
And the frosted fields of morning gray from the overnight freeze
In temperatures of minus six to minus one degrees.
Still each Winter day in the Northlands is one day nearer Spring
When in the leafy woods and groves the nesting birds will sing
And the hawthorns will look resplendent in their white blooms of the May
Still it is cold now in Duhallow by the mountains far away.
The President Of War
With hair dyes and face lifts he covers his wrinkles and gray
The War President is in retirement today
In his beautiful home with his loyal and attractive wife
One of the very privileged minority enjoying the good life.
The President of War known to be guilty of lying
In the wars he created people still suffering and dying
But the Karma he has sown for himself he will receive
Though on such people like him are not known to believe.
To his sort of person human life is cheap
But the Karma we sow is the Karma we will reap
The war mothers grieve at the graves of their dead
Of them years of grieving and sorrow ahead.
What goes around comes around as some like to say
And the President of War for his sins will pay
Because of him many poor mothers for their dead children grieve
And the Karma he has sown for himself he will receive.
The War President is in retirement today
In his beautiful home with his loyal and attractive wife
One of the very privileged minority enjoying the good life.
The President of War known to be guilty of lying
In the wars he created people still suffering and dying
But the Karma he has sown for himself he will receive
Though on such people like him are not known to believe.
To his sort of person human life is cheap
But the Karma we sow is the Karma we will reap
The war mothers grieve at the graves of their dead
Of them years of grieving and sorrow ahead.
What goes around comes around as some like to say
And the President of War for his sins will pay
Because of him many poor mothers for their dead children grieve
And the Karma he has sown for himself he will receive.
Near Port Fairy Town
The sun is glowing brightly in a blue to gray sky
And above the white beach the silver gulls cry
And a freshening sea breeze blowing towards Warrnambool
Is keeping the Summer air pleasantly cool
The paddocks by the sea looking bare, dry and brown
On the last day of January near Port Fairy Town
The temperatures high close to forty degrees
But signs to a cool change in the coastal breeze
The existence of Climate Change only a fool would deny
El Nino of moisture has sucked the ground dry
In a dry landscape of far more brown than green
Smaller salt lakes empty of water a thing seldom seen
And El Nino the thirsty one is lurking around
To suck every drop of moisture from the dry ground.
And above the white beach the silver gulls cry
And a freshening sea breeze blowing towards Warrnambool
Is keeping the Summer air pleasantly cool
The paddocks by the sea looking bare, dry and brown
On the last day of January near Port Fairy Town
The temperatures high close to forty degrees
But signs to a cool change in the coastal breeze
The existence of Climate Change only a fool would deny
El Nino of moisture has sucked the ground dry
In a dry landscape of far more brown than green
Smaller salt lakes empty of water a thing seldom seen
And El Nino the thirsty one is lurking around
To suck every drop of moisture from the dry ground.
Love Upside Down
You cannot love everyone you know in your side of the town
And some say that hate can be love upside down
That when love ends in acrimony ill feelings set in
In love as in life it is not easy to win
Something often said and repeated again
Your best friend today as your best friend may not remain
Though true friendships in death only ever end
Your true friend to you will remain your true friend
Still friendship from love is a different thing
And though of the praises of love many do like to sing
Where love was dislike often does seem to grow
Of the ways of love so little i know
The more we know the less we know we know as some like to say
And from life we do learn something new every day.
And some say that hate can be love upside down
That when love ends in acrimony ill feelings set in
In love as in life it is not easy to win
Something often said and repeated again
Your best friend today as your best friend may not remain
Though true friendships in death only ever end
Your true friend to you will remain your true friend
Still friendship from love is a different thing
And though of the praises of love many do like to sing
Where love was dislike often does seem to grow
Of the ways of love so little i know
The more we know the less we know we know as some like to say
And from life we do learn something new every day.
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