BirdForum

Poor snowball the white silky bantam cock not feeling well of late
His son big red has thrashed him he is in a sorry state
Dried blood on his neck feathers from the comb he has bled
He has really copped a hiding from his oldest offspring red.

Red and his half sibling cock white silky bantams by Steve and Annie to be sold
Around the yard with their parent hens they won't grow tired and old
In the fowl pen they are obliged to wait tomorrow at the break...

Francis Duggan

Above the wide brown country in the gray evening sky
A black shouldered kite out hunting he hover as he fly
With quivering wings it hover suspended there in space
Scanning the ground for small prey it hangs in the one place.

And then it flies a little and the same pattern repeat
And scans around with it's microscopic like eyes for mouse or frog to eat
All in the depths of Winter it hunts for smaller prey
But most little creatures under cover...

Francis Duggan

Good memories remain with me and good memories never die
Of Summer days on uncle Dan's and aunty Mary's farm in green old Lisnaboy
Above the rushy meadow the lark carolled in the sky
And the new mown hay it scented sweetly in the sunshine of July.

The wild brown bees were gathering nectar on the flowers by the hedgerow
And above the sunlit meadows the swallows flew to and fro
And butterflies of many hues flitted around the wildflowers
Their...

Francis Duggan

The dying bird with an injured wing unable for to fly
Will crawl into a hedgerow and hide away to die
Away even from his own kind to have a peaceful end
It's tiny body under cover to decay in sun and rain and wind.

Most animals when near their end prefer to die alone
With the throes of death upon them even their own kind they disown
Those who know much about Nature do ask why is this so?
But Nature's most precious secrets are not for us to...

Francis Duggan

The last rhyme woman of Gippsland with the departed lay
She was one who loved Nature her poems live on today
The Natural World inspired her and with Nature she belong
She glorified the beauty in the white backed magpie's song.

In her marvellous poems to Nature one can hear the wind and rain
And in wet and stormy weather hear the frogs sing in the drain
And the creek flowing through the woodland ever babbling day and night
And she enjoyed her...

Francis Duggan