In green old Ballydaly between Millstreet and Rathmore
Thousands of miles north of here far inland from the ocean shore
Above the rushy field by the river the lark carols as upwards he fly
And Nature in all of her splendour on a morning in July.
In green old Ballydaly I fancy I can see
Cock robin with the sunshine on his red breast on a high branch of leafy tree
And I can hear him singing one cannot mistake his song
The same song his grandfather sung how could one get it wrong.
Months after Caherbarnagh has lost his hat of snow
The shy cock pheasant cucking in the rank grass by the hedgerow
The hen bird raise their chickens with her he does not stay
To mate with her the only part in fatherhood he play.
In the fields near Ballydaly when Summer was in her prime
As a young man long years ago I was inspired to rhyme
By the beauty all around me young birds chirped in the hedgerow
But many Seasons have passed since then for that was long ago.
In green old Ballydaly north of here and far away
The pink breasted chaffinch is singing at the dawning of the day
And the sun above the horizon is rising rosy red
A sign of warm weather and a sunny day ahead.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Crows Are Very Clever Birds
Crows are very clever birds as some scientists tell us so
And you will not find a smarter bird than your average black crow
To their advantage they can use tools where some species of birds cannot live they thrive
And despite what some may think of them they know how to survive.
Some people who live near their roosting trees do not like the noise they make
In the twilight of the evening and in the morning at daybreak
But crows generally do a good job dead animals they eat
And nothing worse in the suburbs than the stench of rotting meat.
It has been said that a crow will tell the other crows where dead animals can be found
And crows arrive at a road-side kill from many miles around
For to do what Nature means them for to do and that is strip the carcase bare
For to remove the risk of disease spread by flies and purify the air.
Crows are very clever birds and they can live for twenty years or more
And one can see them miles from anywhere or on the sea-shore
Or in the suburbs or rural towns and villages quite adaptable one might say
They are familiar to us all as we see them every day.
And you will not find a smarter bird than your average black crow
To their advantage they can use tools where some species of birds cannot live they thrive
And despite what some may think of them they know how to survive.
Some people who live near their roosting trees do not like the noise they make
In the twilight of the evening and in the morning at daybreak
But crows generally do a good job dead animals they eat
And nothing worse in the suburbs than the stench of rotting meat.
It has been said that a crow will tell the other crows where dead animals can be found
And crows arrive at a road-side kill from many miles around
For to do what Nature means them for to do and that is strip the carcase bare
For to remove the risk of disease spread by flies and purify the air.
Crows are very clever birds and they can live for twenty years or more
And one can see them miles from anywhere or on the sea-shore
Or in the suburbs or rural towns and villages quite adaptable one might say
They are familiar to us all as we see them every day.
Monday, January 23, 2012
John From Fishguard
Sing old John a song of his Hometown of Fishguard in Wales by the sea
The Town he left when he was in his mid twenties in the Spring of nineteen sixty three
With his wife Jenny and their only child Garett who then only had just turned four
They went south to sunny Austrealia thousands of miles from their home shore.
His wife she is with the departed she passed on a few years ago
A victim of intestinal cancer her end it was painful and slow
He took care of her when she was bed bound a greater love he never knew
To each other they were devoted and to each other they remained true.
A gray haired man in his late sixties his better days he surely has seen
His son Garett who lives in New Zealand has a son of twenty and a daughter of nineteen
And though he lives on his own he seems happy at the local pub he is known to all
He enjoys his beer and the sing song and he loves to talk of football.
I once heard him ask the ballad singer sing a song of Fishguard for me
The old Town I left in my twenties in Wales by the Atlantic sea
The ballad singer did not know any Welsh song so he handed John his guitar
And John in his fine singing voice sung a Song of Fishguard in distance from here very far.
The Welsh accent it is still with him and with him doubtless it will stay
Until the grim reaper will claim him the one we all must fall to one day
He enjoys a drink at the local pub where he is well liked and well known
And he never does seem dejected though he is one who lives on his own.
The Town he left when he was in his mid twenties in the Spring of nineteen sixty three
With his wife Jenny and their only child Garett who then only had just turned four
They went south to sunny Austrealia thousands of miles from their home shore.
His wife she is with the departed she passed on a few years ago
A victim of intestinal cancer her end it was painful and slow
He took care of her when she was bed bound a greater love he never knew
To each other they were devoted and to each other they remained true.
A gray haired man in his late sixties his better days he surely has seen
His son Garett who lives in New Zealand has a son of twenty and a daughter of nineteen
And though he lives on his own he seems happy at the local pub he is known to all
He enjoys his beer and the sing song and he loves to talk of football.
I once heard him ask the ballad singer sing a song of Fishguard for me
The old Town I left in my twenties in Wales by the Atlantic sea
The ballad singer did not know any Welsh song so he handed John his guitar
And John in his fine singing voice sung a Song of Fishguard in distance from here very far.
The Welsh accent it is still with him and with him doubtless it will stay
Until the grim reaper will claim him the one we all must fall to one day
He enjoys a drink at the local pub where he is well liked and well known
And he never does seem dejected though he is one who lives on his own.
I Do Not Want To Know
I do not want to know where you came from or your Hometown or your home place
And I do not want to know of your religion or your tribe or culture or race
Or if you came from a near Nation or to get here you did travel far
The only thing I wish to know of you is what sort of a person you are?
I do not want to know of your social status or what sort of work that you do
Those things ought not to be seen as important in any assessment of you
Or if you are in low paid employment or if you have to live off of welfare
What matters is that you are a good person and about the sufferings of others you care.
I do not want to know if you are an atheist or if in a god you believe
Only want to know that you are honest and others you do not deceive
It is the quality of your set of values that from others will set you apart
A wealthy rogue not a good person for kindness must come from the heart.
I do not want to know if you are financially well off or if you are living in poverty
Your financial state it should not matter or at least it does not matter to me
If you are a monarch or a pauper at the end of your life to much won't amount
That you are a good living person is the only thing that ought to count.
And I do not want to know of your religion or your tribe or culture or race
Or if you came from a near Nation or to get here you did travel far
The only thing I wish to know of you is what sort of a person you are?
I do not want to know of your social status or what sort of work that you do
Those things ought not to be seen as important in any assessment of you
Or if you are in low paid employment or if you have to live off of welfare
What matters is that you are a good person and about the sufferings of others you care.
I do not want to know if you are an atheist or if in a god you believe
Only want to know that you are honest and others you do not deceive
It is the quality of your set of values that from others will set you apart
A wealthy rogue not a good person for kindness must come from the heart.
I do not want to know if you are financially well off or if you are living in poverty
Your financial state it should not matter or at least it does not matter to me
If you are a monarch or a pauper at the end of your life to much won't amount
That you are a good living person is the only thing that ought to count.
When You Gobble With The Turkeys
When you gobble with the turkeys with eagles you cannot soar
One wiser far than I said that and 'tis one you've heard before
The Judas sheep up the slaughter ramp to slaughter his own kind lead
But he will not die for he is one the butchers tomorrow need
For to lure more of his kind to death and we like the judas sheep
Behind the person we see as our leader in single file we keep
Whilst on the path to destruction to us he points the way
The one we entrusted with power on National election day.
The one who only gives us fear and fill our minds with hate
And send young people off to war a war he did instigate
And we the gullible look up to him as one we do admire
The one who is a rogue at heart and a habitual liar.
When we gobble with the turkeys we will never leave the ground
Whilst the eagle in the open sky he calmly soars around
He looks down on Terra Firma from where silent gray clouds float by
One greater than the judas sheep and much greater than I.
I only admire the person who goes by his or her own mind
Who does not join with the others to follow the judas kind
Such people we should listen to as such people are so wise
The power hungry cannot mislead them or flatter them with lies.
When you gobble with the turkeys as a turkey you will stay
Whilst the eagle in the calm sky soars in the bright light of day
And those that we give power to only serve their own interest
The best of the cake they eat themselves and the crumbs left for the rest.
One wiser far than I said that and 'tis one you've heard before
The Judas sheep up the slaughter ramp to slaughter his own kind lead
But he will not die for he is one the butchers tomorrow need
For to lure more of his kind to death and we like the judas sheep
Behind the person we see as our leader in single file we keep
Whilst on the path to destruction to us he points the way
The one we entrusted with power on National election day.
The one who only gives us fear and fill our minds with hate
And send young people off to war a war he did instigate
And we the gullible look up to him as one we do admire
The one who is a rogue at heart and a habitual liar.
When we gobble with the turkeys we will never leave the ground
Whilst the eagle in the open sky he calmly soars around
He looks down on Terra Firma from where silent gray clouds float by
One greater than the judas sheep and much greater than I.
I only admire the person who goes by his or her own mind
Who does not join with the others to follow the judas kind
Such people we should listen to as such people are so wise
The power hungry cannot mislead them or flatter them with lies.
When you gobble with the turkeys as a turkey you will stay
Whilst the eagle in the calm sky soars in the bright light of day
And those that we give power to only serve their own interest
The best of the cake they eat themselves and the crumbs left for the rest.
Allow Him To Dream Of Fame
In the world of literature his will never be a renowned name
And though he may be a poetaster allow him to dream of fame
He writes as good as some of the so called poets some credit he is due
He is as good as most if the truth be known for poets as we know are few.
He goes for walks in moonlit nights when the frogs sing in the drain
And he puts to paper how he knows that they are forecasting rain
One close to Nature in his heart of Nature much he know
And locally at least 'twould seem his reputation grow.
A poetaster the so called experts say though they have been proven wrong
They use their poetaster tag on this rural man of song
Of Nature he knows far more than they as his verses testify
And he deserves much credit for giving poetry his best try.
He can tell the songbird by his song and to Nature he is a friend
And in his rhymes the babbling of the stream and the soughing of the wind
And allow him for to dream of fame do not take from him his dream
For he is far more of a poet than most of the so called poets 'twould seem.
And though he may be a poetaster allow him to dream of fame
He writes as good as some of the so called poets some credit he is due
He is as good as most if the truth be known for poets as we know are few.
He goes for walks in moonlit nights when the frogs sing in the drain
And he puts to paper how he knows that they are forecasting rain
One close to Nature in his heart of Nature much he know
And locally at least 'twould seem his reputation grow.
A poetaster the so called experts say though they have been proven wrong
They use their poetaster tag on this rural man of song
Of Nature he knows far more than they as his verses testify
And he deserves much credit for giving poetry his best try.
He can tell the songbird by his song and to Nature he is a friend
And in his rhymes the babbling of the stream and the soughing of the wind
And allow him for to dream of fame do not take from him his dream
For he is far more of a poet than most of the so called poets 'twould seem.
Aldo Moro
He was a man who did so much for his beloved Homeland
And why he had to die in such a tragic way seems hard to understand
And little consolation to Aldo Moro's family
That his name is destined to live in Italian history.
He was taken captive by the Red Brigade at the point of a gun
Twenty six years ago in nineteen seventy eight when he was sixty one
His body guards were shot to death their young lives for him they gave
Though not much consolation to their families if their noble family members died brave.
Taken captive for the release of prisoners Aldo Moro's fate was sealed
The Government would not give in to the kidnappers demands and though his family for his life appealed
He was found dead of gun shot wounds in a car the pride of Italy
A Nation plunged into mourning in one of it's blackest days in history.
One of the more famous victims of man's inhumanity
A good man Aldo Moro and few as great as he
He died in nineteen seventy eight on the ninth day of May
In the most treagic way of all a victim of foul play.
And why he had to die in such a tragic way seems hard to understand
And little consolation to Aldo Moro's family
That his name is destined to live in Italian history.
He was taken captive by the Red Brigade at the point of a gun
Twenty six years ago in nineteen seventy eight when he was sixty one
His body guards were shot to death their young lives for him they gave
Though not much consolation to their families if their noble family members died brave.
Taken captive for the release of prisoners Aldo Moro's fate was sealed
The Government would not give in to the kidnappers demands and though his family for his life appealed
He was found dead of gun shot wounds in a car the pride of Italy
A Nation plunged into mourning in one of it's blackest days in history.
One of the more famous victims of man's inhumanity
A good man Aldo Moro and few as great as he
He died in nineteen seventy eight on the ninth day of May
In the most treagic way of all a victim of foul play.
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