On The Passing Of Catherine Desmond

Sad news can bring back good memories of the past

Though on looking back the years time seems to have gone fast

Catherine Desmond in Mullachrua in Cullen had dies quite suddenly

As is said of death it can come unexpectedly

One of the lovely daughters of Catherine and Denis Desmond of Liscahane Millstreet Town

A beautiful young woman with hair of brown

But going back the Seasons this seems long ago

And is said of time it becomes everyone's foe

Catherine as a young person looked attractive and bright

One of the young people then that i knew by sight

The Desmonds of Liscahane were well liked and well known

One can say of them that they were Millstreet's own

Her death to her siblings and nieces and nephews a very sad loss

But as is said of life it comes with many a cross

In all who knew Catherine good memories of her will remain

Of one they will not see in the flesh again

By Cashman's Hill in St Mary's Cemetery in Millstreet Town her last remains lay

A kilometre from where she first looked on the lamp of day

Eventually for all of us from life a final release

And as is said of the deceased may Catherine rest in peace.

On White Winged Trillers

The male black and white bird in breeding plumage white winged triller has a pleasant song

To the cuckoo shrike family they are known to belong

Out of breeding Season the male a  brownish gray

The female in her grayish plumage all year does stay

In small nest of twigs and lichen bound with spider webs on fork of branch of tree

That from the ground is not hard to see

The female lay blotched bluish eggs of two though sometimes three

They are birds that are not seen regularly

Sometimes in last year's nest of a peewee

They lay their eggs and raise their family

They eat insects they find on the trees and on the ground

And chase bees and flies as they fly around

Birds i know of but do not see every day

So much to know of Nature one only can say.

On Nature

On every leaf of every tree

The beauty that Nature creates one does see

The best things in life it is true they are free

Though many with this would choose to disagree

Nature her beauty with everyone does share

And no other beauty with her's can compare

In her there is so much for one to admire

And those who love her of singing her praises never seem to tire

That we never stop learning does seem true to say

And of Nature we learn something new every day

And the more we do learn the more we come to realize

That we do know so little this not a surprise

It is all around you and ity is all around me

In Nature no shortage of beauty to see.

Honourable People

Honourable people others do trust

Since they are known to be honest and just

They never cheat and their bills they do pay

And they live their lives in an honourable way

They are the people who give to receive

On the workings of Karma they do believe

They have a good reputation to retain

And at the expense of others never seek gain

In their words they never put anyone down

And they are a credit to their side of the town

To their higher selves they live as true

Credit to them it is only their due

Shame on their family they never do bring

Honourable people always do the right thing.

We As The Migrants Of Millstreet

We are the migrants of Millstreet though from there we do live far away In the Town or the countryside near Clara we first looked on the lamp of day From there our dreams lured us to elsewhere we all have our dreams of renown And most of us a strong desire retain to grow old near or in Millstreet Town We as the Migrants of Millstreet visit the Millstreet web site every day The love of the old home parish until death with us will stay Some of those featured on the web site familiar faces and some their ancestors of we knew We thank them for our good memories of Millstreet and our good memories of Millstreet not in the few We as the migrants of Millstreet fond memories of there does retain And in our moments of nostalgia we visit the old Town again Millstreet is in our d n a to say differently it would be a lie The love of first home remains in us and will until the day we do die We as the migrants of Millstreet retain good memories of the days of old When in G A A parks in Duhallow and beyond we cheered on the men in green, white and gold The good old days we do remember in our moments of nostalgic tears Good memories do last a whole lifetime and they never age with the years In our old memories of Millstreet time for us seems to stand still Though the people we knew there are ageing in the Town and places near Clara Hill And some of them no longer living and as migrants from there we do live far away We retain fond memories of our first home though there we did not choose for to stay Millstreet the home of our younger years where our dreams in life were sown It is a place we feel proud of that we could never disown We only do have the memories of the what was to retain And often on our flights of fancy we visit Millstreet again.

A Story Of Cocky And Jacky

Many centuries ago when only indigenous tribes lived there Australia was a Land mostly of trees and on the parts of the Country where trees didn't grow grew scutch grass, it was a Land abundant with wild animals and birds, millions upon millions of animals such as kangaroos, possums, wallabies, koalas, wombats, echidnas, platypus etc etc and beautiful birds such as cockatoos, rosellas, whipbirds, lyrebirds, bowerbirds, kookaburras, magpies, crows, fairy wrens, honeyeaters, robins and millions of huge flightless birds cassowaries and emus, The story that i am about to tell you concerns a sulphur crested cockatoo his name was Cocky, one very windy evening in late May Cocky did not leave with all of his friends as he usually did to return to their roosting place tall gum trees about a mile from the sea shore, he was very hungry so he decided to stay behind and eat some more seeds which he and the other cockatoos had been eating, it was nightfall as he flew towards the gum trees where his friends were, the power of the wind increased and Cocky felt himself blown out to sea panic seized his little heart and he squawked loudly for his friends to help him but of course his friends did not hear him as they were too far away, he struggled desperately for to fly against the wind but of course the wind blew too strong and exhausted he had to cease trying to fly against the wind and allow the gale to carry him further and further out to sea by dawn he felt very tired and he was miles from anywhere about mid morning the wind had subsided considerably and Cocky thought he saw what was land and he flew towards it but as he drew closer he found it was not land but a boat and Cocky had never before had seen a boat, He flew above the boat and looked down into it in the boat were people and Cocky did not trust people and although he was very tired he dared not land on the boat as he feared the people might kill him and though he felt exhausted he followed the boat all day until dark and then under the cover of darkness he flew into the boat unnoticed, he hid in the corner of the boat behind boxes and with his head tucked beneath his wing slept soundly until he was startled from his sleep by enveloping human hands, he squawked loudly and tried to struggle free, he even bit into the man's hands with his powerful beak but it was to no avail as the man was too strong and he could not struggle free, the man put Cocky in a box and gave him pieces of raw meat to eat which Cocky did not like but nevertheless eat as he was famished with the hunger, He spent days in the box on a diet of scraps of meat and water, from listening to the men talking amongst each other Cocky learned to speak a few words like hello and good day and one morning Cocky said hello to the man who had come to feed him and the man who had never before heard a bird talking was taken aback and he called out to all of his shipmates who immediately gathered around Cocky's prison a medium sized timber box with small timber door and four small holes which allowed air and light in but were too small for a bird the size of Cocky to escape through, Cocky said hello and good day to all of the men who could only watch on and listen in amazement the men immediately summoned their captain and leader who on hearing the bird talking came to the conclusion that they must have imprisoned some sort of a feathered god and the captain who was of a very suspicious nature feared that the keeping of such a creature in captivity could bring ill luck on himself and his men and his boat gave orders for the immediate release of Cocky who on being released squawked loudly and shouted hello and good day as he flew away, It felt strange for Cocky to again experience the freedom of the sky after having spent what seemed such a long term in captivity he flew westwards and had been flying for up to three hours when he saw in the distance what appeared to him to be land this time he hoped that he was right for if not and it turned out to be another boat he would prefer to die at sea than take the risk of again being taken captive, As he flew nearer he could see that it was cliffs he was approaching and he gave a sigh of relief as he neared the cliffs he thought he was again back home in Australia but Cocky was wrong as he flew over the cliffs and headed inland he realized that he was not back home in Australia but in some foreign Country, there was less trees than there had been in Australia and the trees looked completely different no gum trees but oak, beech, birch, hawthorn, ash etc etc trees he had never seen before and the grass seemed much greener than in Australia and there were cattle and sheep and horses creatures he had never seen before, He perched on a beech tree for to rest awhile a flock of strange birds perched on an oak tree about twenty meters away They were starlings and they took exception to the stranger in their midst they mobbed Cocky but he was able to fight them off there was plenty food for him to eat here and cocky enjoyed what was the first natural meal he had in what seemed ages to him. He flew further inland for at least another two hours and as it was now almost dark Cocky perched on a poplar tree in a wooded area where he rested for the night and as he slept with his head tucked beneath his wing he had a beautiful dream he dreamed that he was back again in Australia with his lovely wife Cresty and their son Sulphur and their pretty daughter Katoo, He was awakened by the sound of birdsong blackbirds and thrushes singing on trees nearby it was daybreak and Cocky was far from home in fact over twelve thousand miles, he was in Wales at the other side of the World, Cocky knew by the strange birds that lived in this strange Country that he must be a long way from home another difference was there seemed to be more human beings living here, he could see up to seven people walking down the valley within fifty meters of the tree he was on, already he had learned the hard lesson to stay clear of the human kind, though this seemed a nice area for Cocky to stay in with trees and open Country as well so he decided to settle here for awhile at least nevertheless he felt very lonely as he pined for his family and his friends back home and beside the local birds did not like him as to them he was a stranger and they treated him as such and they surely would have killed him had he been smaller but they feared his powerful beak and claws and though they taunted and threatened him that was as far as they went, He had been about a week in this valley when one morning a medium sized blackish gray bird that resembled a small crow flew up and perched on the same branch as he was on, Cocky braced himself for fight as he thought that this bird had come to challenge him but when he realized that this bird was of no threat to him he relaxed and in fact he found this bird to be very friendly and though she spoke in an accent similar to a crow her voice seemed softer and not as coarse the stranger introduced herself to Cocky and she told him that her name was Jacky and that she was from Ireland and that she like him was blown out to sea and this was how she came to Wales, Jacky could not join any group as she was an outsider and the other jackdaws let her know it so Cocky and Jacky had a lot in common they both were in a foreign Country though Cocky was many miles further from home and they both had no friends and they both felt very lonely as the days went by they became firm friends and Cocky and Jacky had no more need to feel lonely as they had each other.

We Are All Co-dependent

That anyone is entirely independent why even pretend
On others in some way we always depend
The billionaire boss depends on his employees out of them his billions he has made
And out of the work that they do on him they depend to be paid
Despite what the majority do have to say
We are all co-dependent in some sort of a way
And though credit is not always given to where it is due
That to live we all depend on each other happens to be true
Though most others with what i say may not agree
We are all co-dependent it does seem to me
And whether you live in an Earthly Utopia or an Earthly Hell
No man is an island or no woman as well
And though many may disagree with what i do say
We are all co-dependent in some sort of a way.

A Bully Is Always A Coward

It takes a coward to be a bully and a bully is always a coward
And by instilling fear in the non aggressive the bully feels greatly empowered
But when the bully is stood up to he is not slow to sense defeat
To save himself from a deserved beating he is very quick to retreat.

In the World there are too many bullies they are to be found everywhere
And every day good and nice people are bullied in the bigger World out there
Bullies are mostly males but also some females and all bullies one thing in common do share
That of low self esteem they do suffer though of such they are not aware.

There are bullies in every schoolyard and in every workplace of them nothing good one can say
Some who are bullied do commit suicide such stories we read of and hear of every day
But when the bullies are stood up to they are very quick to back down
And it goes without saying that the bully is never the bravest one in the town.

There ought to be a law against adult bullying it is an obnoxious crime
Those who are found to be guilty of it ought to serve out prison time
As well as being cowardly bullies are cruel hearted they instill in their victims fear
A brave act of one known to be a bully is something you never do hear.

Kolor In April

Home to wallaby and gray roo and weerloo and the pale eyed crow
Between the volcanic rocks of Kolor thistles, scutch grass and bracken grow
Down the stony face of Kolor red hot lava it did flow
To the amazement of the First Australians thousands of centuries ago
They must have thought the Mountain God was angry as they watched in fear and awe
And that their World was ending so frightened at what they saw
That this was an act of Nature something they were not to know
On the stony slopes of Kolor only bracken and thistles grow
High above the hill of Kolor two wedge tail eagles soar and fly
Scanning the ground for prey movement monarchs of the southern sky
For them to exist on Kolor smaller creatures have to die
This is just a fact of Nature and Nature's facts do never lie
On the stunted trees of Kolor on this April evening in mid Fall
The black pale eyed crows are cawing and the dark brown weerloos call.

In Nature No Shortage Of Things

As a writer i am not seen as worthy of note
And i never refer to myself as a poet
Though all of the stuff through the years i did write
You can see on many an internet site
To pen rhymes to Nature i am often inspired
And of singing her praises I've never grown tired
For many years of her i have been in awe
Our marvelous Earth Mother lives by her own law
Her secrets from us she keeps hidden away
Though from her we do learn something new every day
Her beauty is unrivaled it does seem to me
And something that one need not pay for to see
Though my worth as a rhymer I always do doubt
In Nature no shortage of things for to write about.

On Moses Fifth Commandment

To some it is mythology though many say it is God's will
Moses Fifth Commandment states 'Thou Shalt Not Kill'
Does this apply to humans only or life forms of all kind?
The true answer to such in books you will not find
Since us humans do kill other life forms to eat
And I'm one who enjoy the taste of fish and meat
Does this make an accomplice to murder out of me?
With what i say here many may not agree
'Thou Shalt Not kill' the Fifth Commandment does state
And though most say to humans this only relate
Yet since the Fifth Commandment humans only does not specify
To every life form it well may apply
If this be so all of us flesh eaters are destined for Hell
And the souls of the life forms we've eaten with God's Angels will dwell.

A Joy For To Meet

In the park or the pub, the shopping center or on the street
One with a happy smiling face is a joy for to meet
Wherever they are at joy is to be found
As they bring it with them and spread it around
With a cheerful hello when passing your way
The happy smiling stranger brings joy to your day
Some of the happiness that is in them with others they share
They are lucky to be blessed with a gift that's so rare
One might say of them of happiness they plant the seed
Of more of their kind the Human World is in need
You feel out of sorts as you walk in the town
And lots of unsmiling faces pass you up and down
But a happy stranger on passing you by
Gives your spirits a big lift with a friendly hi.

The Poor Poet Of Dublin

A high place in literature he does command
His name lives as the National Bard of Ireland
In his forty sixth year he died in poverty
Though his poems were not born to mortality
The poor Poet of Dublin of the famine years
When Eire was Land of death suffering and tears
In life the poor National Bard of Ireland did suffer his share
Though poets of his caliber even then rare
Poor James Clarence Mangan such beauty did create
In Ireland his name lives as a poetic great
Born at the wrong time as some do like to say
A much better Ireland to live in today
In his lifetime great suffering he had known of and seen
The author of the renowned poem 'Dark Rosaleen'.

There Are Good And Tainted People

There are good and tainted people in every creed and race
Make yourself a better person make the World to live in a better place
I am not saying what's original only what is known and true
In life we receive the Karma that happens to be our due
Wrongs done to you on purpose you may find hard to forgive
An old saying i do remember is to live and to let live
And for wrongs we do to others in Karma we must pay
What goes around always comes around as some are known to say
Racism is born of ignorance and the ignorant are too blind
To see the goodness in others who are not of their own kind
You only look for flaws in others and good you will not see
That is how it always has been and that is how 'twill always be
There are good and tainted people in every race and creed
And of racism and xenophobia humanity is not in need.

Memories Of The Silver Back Crow

The voice of a bird that i used to know
In fancy i hear the loud cawing of the silver back crow
In the fading twilight on a sycamore tree
Our past seems to follow us would you not agree?

In the higher fields in the wood by the hill
The weaker young lambs the black and gray birds do kill
No mercy to them the sheep farmers do show
They do hate the sight of the black and gray crow.

In rural areas classified as a pest
To rid the landscape of them the farmers try their best
But generations of farmers have come and have gone
And despite persecution the gray crows live on.

In the fading twilight just after sundown
In the high mountain field overlooking the town
In fancy the loud cawing of the silver back crow i do hear
The memories of what was to me ever near.

The Centenarian

Last Thursday he celebrated his one hundred birthday
The Seasons and years have left him looking gray
His better days to the forever long gone
But the will it is in him to keep living on
His great great grandchildren are teenagers and Melinda his wife
Died two decades ago she was the great love of his life
To the rare centenarians he is one who belong
And for one of his years he looks healthy and strong
That the will to live in the age surely not a lie
In his two bedroom home by the ocean he will live till he die
With his aging jack russell terrier his only companion he lives on his own
And like many the good and the tough times of life he has known
It has been many Seasons since he was in his life's prime
Three score and ten years ago that's a long time.

From Old Claraghatlea

From old Claraghatlea i may live far away
Though the mental pictures in my mind do stay
Of the old fields I've not seen for many a day
And good memories never fade as some are known to say
It's April now in the rushy fields near the Town of Millstreet
Where the Cails from Kippagh and the Finnow do meet
And by the bridge at Drishane into the Blackwater flow
In the home of the rook and the silver back crow
In fancy Nature's feathered minstrels i hear
The song of the throstle melodious and clear
The tiny brown wren with the bigger bird song
And the finches and robins and blackbirds do sing all day long
From the gray of the dawn till just after sundown
In the groves and on the hedgerows near old Millstreet Town.

Delia Murphy

The songstress of Claremorris Delia Murphy was her name
Her distinctive singing voice lives on in c d to her enduring fame
Her songs are often replayed though deceased for some time
She knew of Worldwide fame when in her glorious prime,
She was one of my favorite singers when i was a young boy
And listening to her records is something i still enjoy
The pride of Mayo Delia for her many an encore
She became loved and famous far from Hibernia's shore
From the nineteen thirties to the nineteen sixties an entertainer beyond compare
The Delia Murphy's of this World to say the least are rare
She had the gift of making others happy and that's a marvelous thing
It can be said of Delia that she was born to sing
Though long with the departed her marvelous singing voice with us remain
And the likes of Delia Murphy we may not see again.

On An Email From Margaret Desmond Sheehy

Years ago she left Millstreet in Duhallow for the U S of A
And from her Hometown by Clara Hill she does live far away
She was born Margaret Desmond, Margaret Desmond Sheehy now her name
But Margaret Sheehy and Margaret Desmond are one and of the same.

Working as a secretary for O Regan's Mills in Millstreet Town she began her professional career
But time does tick on quickly and that's going back many a year
A young and attractive and intelligent woman on hindsight i do recall
But us humans are not unlike Nature's Seasons our Summers fade to fall.

Related to Denis and Connie Taylor from her mother the Lucey family side
On her Millstreet family heritage she takes a justifiable pride
The Luceys and the Desmonds known to many in the countryside by Clara Hill
Where the Finnow to the Blackwater flows onwards with a will.

On the destiny of our life's journeys circumstance does have a say
Though nostalgia for the old home-place in the migrant seem to stay
And an email from Margaret Desmond Sheehy took me to the far away
To the countryside by Clara where we first saw light of day.

April In A Southern Town

An April day in a southern Parkland four months from the Southern Spring
On a sunlit black-wood wattle a male gray backed magpie sing
His all too familiar music beautiful flute like and clear
He is the silver billed Australian who sings the twelve months of the year.

Pleasant and sunny the weather into the sixth week of the Southern Fall
The voices of the magpie larks familiar pee wee pee wee they do call
And the dying leaves on the claret ash are turning a deep reddish brown
How nice to walk through the green Parkland of the sunny Southern Town

Of singing of Nature's praises one could never ever tire
In the beauty of her changing Seasons artists and writers she inspire
To sketch and paint and to write poetry as well as pen stories and rhyme
Of the World's only known immortal the one who is older than time.

A beautiful day in mid Autumn with only a slight touch of breeze
In the Town-park the leaves turning brown and dark yellow upon the deciduous trees
White butterflies dance in the sunshine of April in the Southern Fall
A beautiful memory to cherish and in retrospect for to recall.