BirdForum

In a thousand years from this day birds will build their nests in Spring
And on the tree that marks his borders a golden billed blackbird will sing
And on the old shed rafters in their nest of feathers in a ball of hay
The house sparrows brown fledgelings will chirp all through the day.

Nature lives on forever and the grass will always grow
Though people like all things of life live for awhile and go
Into the unknown hereafter death is our destiny...

Francis Duggan

Above the rushy field near the roadway to Rathmore
The skylark carolling as upwards he did soar
In the gray morning sky and singing as he fly
His song still in my heart will be with me till I die.

Some fifty years ago and to Nature's ways quite green
And I recall today the beauty I have seen
And I recall today the skylark carolling
Sweet music it did flow from such a tiny living thing.

In the heart of every man there is a little...

Francis Duggan

In high and wooded Kalorama there is scarce a puff of breeze
And the sulphur crested cockatoos are squawking high on the tall gum trees
On the first day of October in the second month of the Spring
To be alone with Nature is such a peaceful thing.

The pleasant calling of the currawongs give a clue to their name
Notorious as nest robbers yet free of guilt or blame
For Nature's wild creatures innocent of guilt cannot be blamed for behaving in their...

Francis Duggan

I believed there was a heaven beyond the sky
Where all good souls go to on the day they die
And that hell was for those who murder, cheat and lie
But that was years back when I was a young boy.

Of the Goddess of Nature I never was told
Though her splendid beauty I loved to behold
And though green Mother Nature was all around me
The God I then believed in I never did see.

The tiny brown wren who had the big bird song
In...

Francis Duggan

I will take you home to Millstreet when the May is in her bloom
And the green meads cloaked with wildflowers scent of Nature's sweet perfume
And the dark winged barn swallows white unders and throat rust brown
Wheel above the lush green pastures bordering Millstreet's Country Town.

I will take you home to Millstreet to the Town by Clara hill
When the dipper sings his sweetest on green bank of babbling rill
And the male snipe late at evening with...

Francis Duggan