BirdForum

The rose she has gone back to Nature
Her petals on the grass by her mother tree lay
But memories of her blooming in the sunshine
With me till my own end will stay.

The most beautiful rose in the garden
And the pride of her mother tree
Far redder than a ripe red tomato
A thing of great beauty to see.

Next year the rose tree will have more roses
And one rose amongst them will stand out
The fairest rose in the sunlit...

Francis Duggan

In a hundred years from now to me it will not matter
Since I'll be part of Nature's earth and clay
And life without me will go on as usual
And the birds will sing at the dawning of the day.

Yes life goes on forever and forever
Though due to climate change humans may be more rare
And Mother Earth will look healthy and vibrant
And in the Spring wildflowers will be blooming everywhere.

In a hundred years from now it will not matter...

Francis Duggan

The cat will kill a bird it is her Nature
And though the bird she kills a rare species why her blame
Since she is only doing what to her is natural
And a rare or common bird to her the same.

The cat will kill a small endangered animal
But she is only behaving in her natural way
From killing the creature she derived much pleasure
Your household pet is born a beast of prey.

Your household pet is a natural born killer
And...

Francis Duggan

A sunny and beautiful March evening just over twenty degrees
And in the old Town by the ocean a refreshing and cool coastal breeze
Is blowing up the street from saltwater it is such a beautiful day
Not too warm or too cool near to perfect or so it does seem to me anyway
The magpie larks sing in the parkland their familiar song of pee wee
I've heard and seen them in places far inland and I've heard and seen them in parks by the sea
I do love this mild Autumn...

Francis Duggan

I may live far south of Hibernia's shore
And of the old high fields of green Claramore
But in my flights of fancy I hear the birds sing
On their nesting time in the prime of the Spring.

Above the rank rushes the little brown lark does fly
For to welcome the dawn to the brightening sky
For as long as we live old memories with us remain
And in fancy we often go back home again.

Old Clara was wearing his white hat of snow
...

Francis Duggan