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Old

The Narrow Road By Old Mushera

Posted Saturday 15th May 2010 at 02:49 by Francis Duggan
The narrow road by old Mushera it winds up and down
The backway from Cork through Rylane that ends at Millstreet Town
In Winter the drivers crawl slow through the fog
That steals down the mountain and cloaks Togher Bog
But the scenery is breathtaking on a nice Summer's day
For the tourist who drives on the mountain roadway
The Boggeragh Ranges above you the valley below
By the hills where gorse, heather and bracken do grow
Where in Spring and...
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Old

In Claraghatlea Between Millstreet Town And Ballydaly

Posted Saturday 15th May 2010 at 02:46 by Francis Duggan
Claraghlatlea between Millstreet Town and Ballydaly
Where mine was once a very well known face
But there today I feel I'd be a stranger
And changes occuring in my old Homeplace.

So many people there now I would not know
From the old Townland I've been too long away
The young locals would not know of or not know me
And those I did know showing their years in gray.

In Claraghatlea between Millstreet Town and Ballydaly
The...
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Old

Except For Nature

Posted Saturday 15th May 2010 at 02:43 by Francis Duggan
To the Reaper's scythe all things of life must fall
There is a last day and night for us all
Except for Nature she will be living on
When the breath of life from you and I long gone
We are like her Seasons to life we come and go
And her big rivers to her great oceans flow
She is present from the north to the southern shore
The one who is destined for to live forever more
Were I a poet a poem for her I'd write
That poetry lovers would...
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Old

The Memories Of What Was

Posted Saturday 15th May 2010 at 02:40 by Francis Duggan
In old Claraghatlea where I was born and raised
I grew to love Nature and by her beauty was amazed
The dipper with breast white as snow and mostly darkish brown
Sang in the stream a mile west of Millstreet Town
With the arrival of April and her mild Spring showers
The old fields looked resplendent in their wild flowers
The countryside beautiful in Nature's green
I can memorize the great beauty I've seen
The nesting birds piped on bush, tree...
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Old

The Aussie Rural Night

Posted Wednesday 12th May 2010 at 02:06 by Francis Duggan
A full moon silently creeping through the starlit sky
A cattle dog barks in the farmyard nearby
In answer to the hunting fox's shrill cry
The domestic one to the wild one feels compelled to reply,
The boobook owl one who hides from the sunlight
Is calling out mopoke in the still of the night
And the scream of the barn owl so shrill like and clear
For any tiny creature so frightening to hear
The soft whistle of the wombat one cannot mistake...
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