BirdForum

Down from the old high brown country where it flows eternally
The dusky waters of the Powlett babbles on it's way to the sea
Through the flat and scrubby paddocks it darkens and deepens as it flow
Where the Bunurong the children of the Dreamtime lived up to a few centuries ago,
As it nears the Pacific ocean it seems to crawl at a snail's pace
Slowly it flows to saltwater onwards to it's destined place
By the sandhills and the sand dunes surrounding the ocean...

Francis Duggan

The old high fields of Claramore I walk them once again
Where wildflowers bloom amongst the grass made lush by recent rain
The robin singing in the wood his voice so nice to hear
What in distance seems so far away in fancy to me near.

The swallows have returned home from places far away
Above the fields of Claramore they chirp and fly today
And skylark in the gray rain clouds is carolling as he fly
His family on a ground nest born the minstrel...

Francis Duggan

I felled pine trees by Mushera Mountain quite close to two decades ago
In weather that was wet and windy and often cold enough to snow
With Dan Joe Kelleher, Eoin Connors and Gene Buckley I wonder where they might be today
Do they still live in Aubane Valley or from there do they live far away?

Late Winter and early Spring by the mountain were cold days but in early April the temperatures rose by a few degrees
And greenery returned to the deciduous trees...

Francis Duggan

The mornings were cold I remember the old fields with frost hoary gray
And the hungry cattle in the farm sheds were bellowing for silage and hay
And robins, thrushes, sparrows and blackbirds by the back door were pecking crumbs of bread
Swept out from the kitchen floor by the housewife of them many more hungry days ahead.

The old stream from recent rain swollen bank high to the river did flow
And the hill that towered over the valley was wearing his clean...

Francis Duggan

The faint lamp of the moon is shining through the branches of the trees
And the night is calm and pleasant with a very timid breeze
And I hear the crickets chirping in the undergrowth nearby
And around the bright orange Street light the moths in circles fly,
A myriad of stars are twinkling in the calm night sky
Such a thing of Natural beauty is always a thing of joy
And the frogs can be heard singing hidden in the roadside drain
'Tis said that these...

Francis Duggan