Friday, January 31, 2014

You Cannot Love Your Country

You cannot love your Country if you do not love all of it's races of people as well
And you do not love all of it's races of people by your words i can tell
So when you say you love your Country you believe your own lie
Though you boast for the National flag you would gladly die

How can you love your Country if in your words you put those different to you down
Some of them your neighbors in your side of the town
These people love their Country and to the Country's laws remain true
And they do not dislike others due to their difference to them and they do not dislike you

For complete love of Country in the recipe one does need
To love those different to you in culture and race of origin and creed
There are plenty like you consumed with patriotic pride
Who believe love of Country comes with racial divide

When the National flags are flying and the bands through the town play
You march in the big parade on National Day
And i do love my Country with pride you do say
But by your racial profiling you do not seem this way.

With Rhyme Words

With rhyme words i am one who does love to play
And new rhymes do come to my mind every day
On notebook paper i pen them down
But never for money or for literary renown

Anybody can pen rhymes or so we are told
And rhymers never grow famous and wealthy they only grow old
On saying rhymers are many and poets are few
I am not telling you anything that is new

Though a harmless enough past time would you not agree
Addicted to rhyming i do seem to be
Just one of many my kind everywhere
There are millions like me in the big World out there

The weather is sunny and humid and warm near forty degrees
And even great warmth in the southerly breeze
That blow from the sea in the park by the bay
Too warm for to lay in the sunshine today

I have strayed one might say from the subject in rhyme
But this has happened to me many a time
On the subjects they write of rhymers thoughts tend to stray
From the point of the matter i too am this way

The day is sunny and humid the wind soughing in the trees
And the warm air full of the buzzing of bush flies and bees
A poem i would write of it were i a poet
But such a title reserved for those of literary note.

What Goes Around Comes Around

That bad things at the hands of criminals are happening to good people every day Worldwide
In every Country is something that cannot be denied
Ruthless people bereft of compassion as ever not rare
The kind who derive pleasure in the suffering of others their victims relatives grief do not spare
Of their sort humanity is not or will never be in need
Without them the Human World would be safer and far better to live in indeed
Though some excuse can be found for the bad behavior of the criminally inclined
Far too many guns and knives in the possession of their kind
And sad to know that good people are dying every day
At the hands of criminals in the foulest way
Far too many people lacking in compassion and empathy
War crimes and ethnic cleansing a blight on humanity
But what goes around comes around does only seem true
Those who do bad things to others bad things in return becomes their due.

Thursday, January 30, 2014

On A Fair Go For All

A fair go for all in many instances to all does not apply
Since many Governments Worldwide a fair go to some of their people choose to deny
Due to difference in religion and culture as well as race
For a fair go for all in many Countries there does not seem to be a place
In most Countries a fair go for some to the privileged few
On saying this i am not saying anything that is new
In most Countries minorities though good living people are often demonized
That this happens in some so called democratic Countries one must not feel surprised
All people are equal in that we all are born to die
But otherwise equality for all people based on a lie
In my lifetime i know that i will not see
Where anyone is not seen to be more equal than you or than me
And in the history of humanity no record to recall
Of the existence of an age of a fair go for all.

At Number One You Begin

Anyone on their own cannot make the World a much better World to live in
But to count to a million at number one you must begin
And everyone who lives as a good person some credit is due
That they are helping to make the World better to live in happens to be true
It is people with negative influence any hope of peace seem to destroy
The abuse of power they do seem to enjoy
Such people find joy in wrecking harmony
And sadly a World free of their sort i will not live to see
National borders and culture and religion people divide
And tension between people that leads to war nowadays is Worldwide
Those who believe war leads to peace do believe in a lie
Because of negative influence many people do die
One good person cannot make a better World to live in
But to count to a  million at number one you begin.

When People Ask Michael Kelleher

When people ask Michael Kelleher where he is from his usual reply
Is far north of this Land as the migratory bird does fly
Claraghatlea in Duhallow near the Town of Millstreet
A short walk through the fields to where the rivers do meet

With children and grandchildren to Rosemary his Australian wife
He has lived in Australia for more than two thirds of his life
They now live in San Remo in South Gippsland by the Pacific shore
South of Claraghatlea by eighteen thousand kilometers or more

The Duhallow accent he was born into he does retain
And perhaps with him it will remain
For as long as he live till his last night and day
His accent with him it is destined to stay

His heritage Michael Kelleher does never deny
In Claraghatlea he first looked on the sun and the moon and the stars of the sky
In the school yard in Millstreet Town he played games with his friends as a boy
As a young fellow a carefree existence he did enjoy

Michael Kelleher often talks of his friends in and near Millstreet Town
Where he used to live when his hair was light brown
And though he lives far south of old Clara today
The good memories of his younger years with him stay.

Wednesday, January 29, 2014

A Marvelous Person

So kind and gentle in her own sweet way
I see her often though not every day
On meeting she always smiles as hello she does say
About her she does have a winning way

I have been told she is sixty five years old
Though silver haired quite lovely to behold
Without makeup aging in a natural way
But she does look younger than her age it would seem fair to say

A widow who never bore children one who know of life's crosses of woe
Her late husband her one true love and soul-mate died of cancer six years ago
She grieved for him and for lost love none in her life to take his place
In life there can be joy and sorrow and many a challenge for to face

A marvelous person always helping the needy on behalf of St Vincent De Paul
When one is in need she is never found to be wanting she is always willing to answer the call
I often meet her when she is out walking she always greets me with great warmth in her hello
The Human World in need of more of her kind for she is one who has the inner glow.

We Are Only Mere Mortals

So many i have known to the forever gone
And time on my life keeps on ticking on
Some of us take self importance that bit too far
We are not as special as we think we are
Of years of life not many of us reach four score
We live for awhile and then for us no more
It is the fear of death we only do fear
Some remembered for awhile and some forgotten in a year
For some a eulogy is never read
But to be remembered or forgotten does not matter to the dead
The Reaper does treat all lives as the same
The paupers and those of great wealth and fame
Like all other life forms the life's journey for us must end
We are only mere mortals why otherwise pretend.

Pete Seeger

That the World was better for him living in it is only fair to say
Such sad news out of New York on the radio today
That Pete Seeger the singer songwriter from life has passed away
His songs will live for centuries long after his mortal remains have gone to decay

Some of his song such as 'Turn Turn Turn' and 'Where Have All The Flowers Gone'
In centuries from this day will be living on
The Ed McCurdy song 'Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream' he also helped to glorify
A legend of the World of folk singing to Pete Seeger must apply

As a writer and singer of anti war songs Pete Seeger in a class of his own
In his lifetime he became famous and his songs Worldwide are known
He brought joy to so many so often i hear a Pete Seeger song
Sung in clubs and in bar-rooms and in many a sing along

Suppose life goes on forever and few other things do last
Pete Seeger on his ninety fourth year has died but he left memories of a great folk singing past
One of the World's all time great singer songwriters at peace forever lay
The Human World better for him living in it of him only fair to say.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

On Australia Day 2014

A bit of the big World out there i have seen
Since last i saw bluebells on the ditch of bohreen
When the hawthorns were in their white blooms of the May
And the wildflowers were in the old fields far away

This is going back in springs twenty seven ago
And time that does age all it has become my foe
Yet so few years to live and so much for to see
Like is said time does not wait it did not wait for me

In Summer in south west Victoria on Australia Day
The sweet scent of grass in a nearby paddock recently mowed for hay
Such nice weather for late January with scarcely any breeze
And a temperature high for the day of twenty five degrees

In parks in every village and town and city in Australia today
People assemble to listen to the speeches and to hear the bands play
Where people of many different cultures and races to party do meet
The sounds of laughter, song and music to the ears always sweet

But i like the quiet place where Nature's beauty abound
Where the song of a bird is the loudest sound
Where the nearest person is not anywhere near
On Australia's biggest party day of the year.

Though My Wonder Of Her

Though my wonder of her only does seem to grow
So little about Nature i can claim to know
I first grew to love her in fields far away
From the Town of Koroit where i live today
In the home of  jackdaw, badger, rook and the silver back crow
And the dark brown river bird dipper with breast as white as snow
I first grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning about her today i enjoy
The years have left me looking weary and gray
But we never stop learning as some like to say
And from Nature i learn something new every day
Yet the more we know the less we know we know it does seem this way
A black and white Australian magpie is piping on a sunlit blackwood tree
And Nature's beauty is everywhere all around me.

Casterton

The high paddocks above Casterton the color of hay
On a warm and humid late January day
On a day that is even quite warm for the time of year
Amongst the great stories of Casterton one we often do hear
Is the story of Jack Gleeson the founder of the Kelpie breed
Of great working farm dogs he helped to plant the seed
But Casterton has many claims to renown
It's friendly and hospitable people make it a very welcoming Town
A Town in the dry country sixty kilometers from Hamilton and thirty from Coleraine
The countryside around Casterton is always in need of more rain
Houses there cheap to buy which makes it a livable place
In where a stranger is greeted by many a smiling face
For those traveling to Mt Gambier in South Australia it is Victoria's last Town
The roadway in and out of Casterton winds up and down.

Monday, January 27, 2014

On Duhallow Today

The Boggeragh Hills in rain fogs hidden away
And the sky overcast and looking quite gray
The cattle in the farm sheds are bellowing for silage or hay
The sun will not shine on Duhallow today

A cold wind from Sliabh Luachra above the fields blow
And the stream bank high to the river in brown flood waters flow
In January a time of year when nothing does grow
And the weather even seems too cold for to snow

The chackling calls of gray headed jackdaw
And on the leafless tall trees the hungry rooks caw
In the bare groves a singing bird one does not hear
On what is for beast and for bird a hungry time of year

On the bare hedgerow the chirping of the migratory redwing
They always head north to breed in their breeding woods in the Spring
Twelve weeks in time from the first day of May
The sun will not shine on Duhallow today.

We Take From Nature

In most of us the traits of the carnivore since most of us eat meat
And some even kill for the joy of it creatures they refuse to eat
Such people sadistic in their ways to hunt and kill for fun
And leave the creatures that they kill to rot there in the sun
Many other life forms lose their lives for most of us for to live
And we take far more from Nature than in return to her we do give
But those who kill without a reason to except for the sheer enjoyment of it are sadistic indeed
Of their sort of people the Human World is not in need
Millionaire big game trophy hunters i find hard to understand
Rare enough species to show off in their private museums they kill in many a distant Land
A boost to their over inflated egos how arrogant some men can be
Such people are never a credit to humanity
On the flesh of dead creatures many of us does live
And we take from Nature far more than in return to her we do give.

A Place That I Loved

A place that i loved but where i did not stay
And from it i live many sky miles away
Claraghatlea in view of Clara by the Town of Millstreet
In the green countryside where the rivers do meet

Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways to me a source of joy
Yet on discussions of Nature my ignorance of her ways does show
As so little about her i can claim to know

When the cold winds of January in Duhallow do blow
Old Clara is often in his hat of snow
And the streams and the rills and the rivers on most days bank high does flow
In the often wet fields where the rushes in clusters do grow

In Claraghatlea today i might be a stranger to many in my first home-place
Where mine years ago to all was a known face
Some i knew there amongst the deceased do lay
Whilst others like me in Claraghatlea did not stay

Today in Victoria the weather is sunny and warm twenty five degrees
A beautiful day with only a slight breeze
Far from the Finnow in flood waters of brown
Bank high in the wet fields west of Millstreet Town.

Sunday, January 26, 2014

Camperdown Joe

So much of the big World out there he has seen
Joe in his mid fifties has been traveling since he was nineteen
He has been to and worked in many Countries and many towns and cities as well
Of his Worldwide travels he has great stories to tell
Single and without children the gray haired man from Camperdown
Has never been short of women he has had one in every city and town
He has been to and worked in and that has been quite a few
Wining and dining and making love with women to him nothing new
From Camperdown his Hometown Joe is far away
Working as a pipe layer in tropical Queensland in the Town of Mackay
One who is generous with his money he works hard for good pay
But the wanderlust in him in Mackay he will not stay
The gray haired fellow from south west Victoria Camperdown Joe
He left his first home to see the World thirty six years ago.

The Wannon

In fancy i can hear the dark pale eyed crow
Cawing on a gum tree near where old Wannon flow
To the Pacific ocean in kilometers far away
In the brown and bare paddocks by night and by day
A waterway old in the age of the Dinosaurs and the Dreamtime
The Wannon has inspired the creators of story and rhyme
In those old brown paddocks in time going back centuries
Australia's first people had their corroborees
But in time as we know few things ever does last
And corroborees by the Wannon are of the long gone past
For centuries before recorded history the waterways have flowed to the ocean shore
And the Wannon to the Pacific will flow forever more
And in the centuries to come as in centuries long gone
In the old brown country the Wannon will flow on.

On Climate Change

On Climate Change Government leaders Worldwide only seem to waffle on
And all hope of slowing it's onset now seem to have gone
Short term jobs at the expense of the Natural Environment is not a good idea
Human created pollution causing widespread extinction on land and in sea
When i say that in an unhealthy natural environment that jobs will be few
I am not saying in any way anything that is new
Human created carbon emissions on the increase Worldwide
Abuse of our Natural Environment for humanity not a sense of pride
To the Earth Mother who feeds us and on whom we depend on for to live
We take and we take and in return to her little give
No votes for governments on  cutting back on carbon emissions but it seems sad to say
That for our greed the future generations of people may have to pay
Jobs at the expense of the Natural Environment is not a good idea
And things not looking good for the future of humanity.

Saturday, January 25, 2014

It Cannot Be Dan Carroll

You cannot be dead if your spirit is living the Tullig Dan Carroll i knew has his own claim to renown
One of if not the last to make the last horse drawn cart milk deliveries for the late Pat Cashman in Millstreet Town
That was back in the fifties to maybe the early sixties when lively little Dan was in his prime
But the passing of the Seasons on all telling and all of us become victims of time

But it cannot be the fellow known as 'No Go' whose last remains in St Mary's does lay
For men like him live on in the higher spirit though for the mortal body a last night and day
If there happens to be a life hereafter you will find Dan where characters do dwell
To be amongst the characters of the hereafter would surely suit a fellow like him well

It cannot be Dan Carroll the famed 'No Go' who passed away since this i know would surely be a lie
He was born to be a character and characters live on and in the living memory never die
Under the cold ground of St Mary's his mortals remains may forever lay
But he is drinking Guinness and making laughter for others in a World that from there is far away

The cold and the harsh winds of late January blow with a loud and a frosty chill
In the cemetery in Millstreet of St Mary's blowing from the mountains over Cashman's Hill
But you will not find Dan Carroll there he has migrated to a World miles beyond the sky
People like him are born with a good soul and as we know such souls have wings to fly.

Everyday When Out Walking

I feel lucky in life since nice people i often meet
When i am out walking in the park or on the street
With warmth in their greeting when hello they do say
Though strangers they do bring some joy to my day
Though reading and hearing of serious crimes by some people does seem rather sad
There are far more good people in the World than bad
I do know of some who are compassionate of mind
People who in their ways are caring, loving and kind
People who do their good deeds every day
And to help those who are in need of helping go out of their way
Of their kind a few i feel privileged to know
One might say of them they have the inner glow
Everyday when out walking in the park or on the street
Some very nice people i feel privileged to meet.

Friday, January 24, 2014

For The Farmers Of Australia

For the farmers of Australia Summer is not much fun
Working in their paddocks in the heat of the sun
With bush flies around their mouth and their eyes and on their hands, face and hair
And buzzing around them in the warm humid air

In the prime of the Australian Summer flies in numbers abound
Above the paddocks they were born in all day buzzing around
And if they perch on you to check out your exposed skin it is hardly their fault
Since not unlike us humans they are addicted to salt

In Summer in every Australian paddock there are billions of flies
On warm days they come out of hiding after sunrise
In the sweat of animals and humans salt they do find
To appease their addiction to danger they seem blind

Since they earn their livelihood where in Summer bush flies are rife
For the Australian farmers not much joy in life
The bush flies are on their exposed skin searching for salt every day
For to earn a livelihood many an easier way.

For Years I Have Been Dabbling

For years i have been dabbling in the Wordsmith trade
As a rhymer who has failed for to make the grade
My best years in life to the forever long gone
But true to my calling i keep rhyming on
Though i am one who has lived most of my life's span
And young people may look on me as an old man
For as long as i live as a rhymer i hope to stay
Right up till my life's very last night and day
As a rhymer mine may not be a well known name
But i pen rhymes for the love of it not for wealth or fame
I have never referred to myself as a poet
Nor am i one worthy of even minor literary note
And i will tell you again as i have often told you before
That i pen rhymes for enjoyment and little else more.

Jim Kennelly

As a young man for Millstreet Gaelic Football he did play
The Parish Priest of Boherbue in Duhallow today
The classy half forward of the seventies for a decade or more
By those who watched him play is remembered for his many a memorable score

Jim Kennelly as a young man was quick on his feet
One of the all time great forwards in the green of Millstreet
So skilful and sporting and in a class of his own
In Cork Gaelic Football circles he remains widely known

For many years Millstreet in Gaelic Football were Duhallow's best
Of the Gaelic Footballs Clubs in North Cork well ahead of the rest
And nowadays their fans can only dwell in memories of the past
But then few things in life ever do seem to last.

Jim Kennelly was in his prime when Millstreet were great
He often gave their fans reason to celebrate
Along with his brother the accurate free taker Ted
The Millstreet attack by the Kennellys was led

As a sportsman and a person one held in high esteem
In his prime Jim Kennelly was a Gaelic footballer supreme
He left the Millstreet fans of him with many a good memory
The very popular Parish Priest today in Boherbue.

Thursday, January 23, 2014

Time As You Do Know

Time as you do know does come at a cost
You cannot bring back the years you have lost
The clock it keeps ticking and ticking away
And every day brings you one nearer to your last day
A healthy and fit person in your life's prime
Though this is going back a few decades in time
The longest lived human life in real time not a long span
On average a few years more for a woman than it is for a man
With the Reaper of lives we all have a date
It comes to people on their life's journey sometimes early but more often late
Some i went to school with not living today
And time on our lives ever ticking away
And those who say the longer you live the sooner you will die
Are surely not guilty of telling a lie.

For Our Bad Environmental Practices

Of few votes on action against Climate Change politicians are aware
And of the consequences of Global Warming too few do seem to care
More fossil fuels are burned than at anytime in the World of today
For our crimes against the Natural Environment the future generations of humans will pay

People say they love their children yet we keep on burning coal
Of our Natural Environment such bad practice taking toll
One must feel for the adults of the future every young girl and boy
They will not have a good future if their future we destroy

When politicians talk of job creation what are they on about
For they are talking without thinking when they never seem to doubt
That without a healthy Natural Environment jobs will dwindle to a few
That the financial economy has it's source on the Natural Environment is not saying what is new

The Polar ice caps melting and wildlife becoming rare
And extinction in the wild state looming for the Arctic bear
We ignore the warnings of environmental scientists pay no heed to what they say
Nero fiddled when Rome burned we are the Neros of today

For our bad environmental practices i am also for to blame
That Australia's bush fires are burning fiercer is to all of our shame
Those with good environmental practices we never seem to heed
Though of many more of their kind the World is badly in need.

It Is Not How Much Money And Assets

It is not how much money and assets you accumulate or how much fame you do win
That will not make the Human World a better World to live in
It depends on how kind and compassionate you are
And not your money or the size of your plane, boat or car
Kind and compassionate people are an asset to humanity
It would be a poverty free World if they were in majority
In a World where millions of people are hungry for the want of a feed
Of more greedy people humanity is not in need
In a Human World where the emphasis is on the power of money and fame
To be poor though not a crime is seen by many as a cross of shame
Far too many on the wrong side of the social divide
As the gap between the poor and the wealthy keeps growing ever wide
The kind and compassionate seem in minority
And this does seem a pity would you not agree?

Wednesday, January 22, 2014

When Last I Saw Hannah Mary Daly

When last i saw Hannah Mary Daly Clara wore a hat of snow
And the cold winds of December across Inchaleigh did blow
As she stood beside her cottage gate how was i to know
That we were never to meet again near where Finnow waters flow

At the start of a cold Winter twenty seven years ago
It is true what is often said of time it becomes everybody's foe
I was never to see Hannah Mary as a living person again
But good memories of the good woman she was with me does remain

In St Mary's by Cashman's Hill her last remains do lay
And that she will be sadly missed from Inchaleigh only true to say
For everyone alive today there is a last farewell
And the living reminded of their mortality in the tolling of the funeral bell

When last i saw Hannah Mary a hat of snow on Clara Hill
And the harsh winds of December did blow with a cold chill
Across Inchaleigh and the Finnow bank high in brown flood went rushing down
Towards the Blackwater in the rushy fields just west of Millstreet Town.

Australian Magpies

Most male birds in their breeding Season singing one does hear
But the Australian magpies do sing every day of the year
And in late Winter and early Spring they often sing at night
So pleasant to hear them piping in the moonlight
The white backed and the black backed magpies in Australia are plentiful Nationwide
In every village, town and city and in the countryside
Territorial by Nature and in their aggressive way
They defend their borders with aggression against their own kind every day
Not corvids as true magpies are the Australian magpies are related to the shrike family
Piping shrikes another name for them though magpies the name used for them usually
In town parks, backyards and country paddocks seen and heard every day
Birds known to everyone in Australia would be true to say
They live in small family flocks of varied food choice
They prey on small birds, skinks, insects and worms and frogs and mice.

Your Achievements In Life

Your achievements in life may be looked on as small
But if one is in need of help you will answer the call
And amongst honorable people you do walk tall
For you do believe on a fair go for all
One of the compassionate and caring and kind
And any flaw in you a hard thing to find
For the poor of the World you feel sympathy
So lucky are they who do have empathy
To help others out you go out of your way
And that the Human World better for you in it a fair thing to say
Unlike some of those looked on as the successful of the town
In your words you never put anyone down
The Human World of more of your kind is in need
For you are a very good person indeed.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

Rod Laver

He won all four grand slam tennis championships in the one year twice
Amongst the top ten all time great tennis players by many a perennial choice
The Rockhampton Rocket Rod Laver of tennis a true great
In tennis his own slice of history for himself he did create
Amongst the all time greats of male tennis players he is one who does rate
His is a name for the tennis fans for to celebrate
The Rod Laver Arena in Melbourne in honor of his name
His own mortal body will not outlive his fame
A down to earth fellow despite his renown
In his words he never puts anyone down
One of the World's great tennis players in his physical prime
But his aging body showing the wear of time
An all time great tennis player though time has become his foe
His best days in life many decades ago.

In Port Fairy In January

In Port Fairy in the holiday period in January for the mates some good fun
Playing cricket on the beach in the afternoon sun
Where each run is greeted with a lusty cheer
And between overs a break for a swim and a beer
In the evening they go with their partners or spouses to the pub
Since they all do belong to the one social club
From sharing similar interests friendship bonds come about
That birds of a feather always flock together is never in doubt
In the coastal towns in January with Summer in it's prime
Of their work break the holidaymakers make the most of their time
The happy sound of laughter on the beaches one does hear
In what for many is a relaxed time of year
And on the beach the mates playing cricket in the afternoon sun
This is one of their ways of enjoying some fun.

From The Far Away Town

Have you ever felt yourself quite close to tears
As your mind took you back to the long gone years
When playing with your young friends you ran up and down
In the schoolyard in your lunch break in the far away town

The children you played with where are they today?
Some of them like you from the old town do live far away
Whilst some of them at rest with the deceased do lay
Life's journey is shorter for some as they say

We do have our memories of what used to be
But old age is approaching for you and for me
And good memories of what was with us does remain
But this is all of the past that we can retain

So fleeting our childhood years and our lives prime
And eventually we all become victims of time
How come the happiest memories in life we have had
To think back on for us can be a bit sad?

Have you ever had to choke back the tears that yearned to flow
As you thought of the past and friends you did know
Before you left for adventure and wealth and renown
In the big World out there from the far away town?

Monday, January 20, 2014

We Are Not As Important

Photos of ourselves and our wives and our children in our homes on every wall
For our growing egos it does seem our heads are too small
I see young people taking photos with their mobile phones of self  and fiance every day
We are in the age of too much love of self it does seem this way
We are in the age of  i, myself and me
And we are out of touch with the reality
That we are mere mortals that and nothing more
And many of us in years will not live to reach the age of four score
I too am egotistical and the egotistical traits in others i do see
Are the egotistical traits i do dislike in me
Self promotion and abnormal self love are of the narcissistic kind
And this 'look at me syndrome' a disease of the mind
Attention seeking and self promotion by many has been taken too far
We are not as important as we think that we are.

Only Two Duhallow Dogs

Peader's Prize trained in Kanturk By James Manley and Pats Newdown owned and trained by Dan Halloran of  Knocknagree
Remain as the only Duhallow dogs to claim outright victory
In the North Cork Cup in the Town Park in Millstreet Town
I was there on the days that they raced to renown
This is going back in time some three decades ago
And time as we know becomes everyone's foe
Only one Duhallow bitch owned and trained by father and daughter Teddy and Chloe Collins has reached the North Cup Final since then
In coursing all aged cups are always very hard for to win
Since Peader's Prize and Pat's Newdown time many coursing Seasons  have come and gone
And park coursing in Ireland it is living on
Nowadays the coursing dogs are muzzled a change for the better it does seem
Though coursing remains as a classified blood sport and by many not held in high esteem
And only two Duhallow coursing dogs the North Cork Cup have won
Like all things in life it is never easy for to win when all is said and done.

We Are Better Off Without Enemies

We are better off without enemies and we do need every friend
This is how it is why otherwise pretend
Since negative energy directed against you for you not a good thing
Of the praises of such you will not hear many sing
People of wealth and power have many friends but have enemies too
When you are at the top there are always one or two
Who out of jealousy or for some other reason wish to drag you down
Life is not always easy for the entrepreneurs of the town
In a Human World where many for success do compete
The ambitious and aspirational live on every street
Where to be short of money is not seen as okay
A sad World for many to live in the Human World of today
That you are better off without enemies happens to be true
But what we receive from life may well be our due.

Sunday, January 19, 2014

Peggie Horgan

She was such a lovely woman one who did lead a good life
A good mother to her children and to Jerry Horgan a good wife
Sad to learn that Peggie Horgan from life has passed away
In St Mary's in Millstreet her last remains does lay
Gone from old Ballydaly another well loved face
One can truly say of Peggie she was a credit to the place
And though in the flesh in Duhallow never to be seen again
In all in Ballydaly good memories of her will remain
One who will be missed by many for she did have many a friend
But life it is a journey that for all of us must end
From Ballydaly she often cycled to and back from Millstreet Town
In the days when she was younger when her wavy hair was dark brown
She was such a lovely woman and in truth one has to say
That Ballydaly for her passing is a poorer place today.

The Song Of A Goldfinch

The day is sunny and humid and warm with warmth in the breeze
In a heatwave of mid January with a temperature high of thirty degrees
The song of a bird on a nearby wattle tree
Does stir up old memories that are dormant in me
The song of a goldfinch takes me back in time
To the wood by the hill when Spring was in it's prime
The twittering song of a male goldfinch singing in the sunshine a bird beautiful to behold
With red band around bill and feathers of  dark brown, fawn and gold
Not the finest of songsters but for their beauty widely known
The Eurasians goldfinches have ways of their own
In the blue and sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
And the song of a goldfinch takes me to far away
To the wood by the hill in the prime of the Spring
Where their twittering songs the goldfinches do sing.

For God, Flag And Country And National Pride

For god, flag and country and national pride
Too many by far in wars have fought and died
Governments have not learned the lessons of wars fought decades ago
They tell us who should be our friend and who should be our foe
Disagreements created by politicians causes anger to boil
People go to war for god and for cultures and borders and oil
And bereaved families are left for to grieve their war dead
And no hope of peace in the decades ahead
The war supposed to end all wars ended in nineteen eighteen
Where in Europe human blood turned to red the fields that were green
But many wars in the World have been fought since then
And lessons not learned from war history by arrogant men
But in huge losses of life in wars even winners do not win
And when one war does end another does begin.

Saturday, January 18, 2014

More Of Us Than Words Can Say

Australia this big and underpopulated Land
It's Government i find hard to understand
They turn asylum seeking boat refugees from their shores away
The spirit of the fair go seems dead and this is sad to say
Compassion in the Human World nowadays more rare
More willing to receive and less prepared to give and to share
That the Government on boat refugees are so tough
Of a compassionless voting majority does seem proof enough
Too many are willing the displaced to disown
For empathy the compassionless have never been known
Our Government does not want us to have a friend they have chosen for a foe
And the spirit of the fair go it died years ago
Our treatment of asylum seeking people says more of us than words can ever say
Narcissism and xenophobia are rife all around us today.

Imagination

The gift of imagination it is such an amazing thing
You can imagine that you are a bird on the wing
As over the tree tops and building you do fly
A swallow chasing flying insects in the sky
All you have to do is go within your mind
And this thing known as imagination in there you will find
The gift to be anything that you wish to be
The gift of imaginative thought to all of us is free
To create works of beauty the artist and writer of it are in need
The gift of imagination is a great gift indeed
It is out of imagination gifted people create
Works that are not branded with a use by date
Your gift of imagination does set you free
For to become anything you wish to be.

It Is Not My Mum Or My Dad's Fault

It is not my mum or my dad's fault since they are not to blame
If i am one of many who has faltered on the road to wealth and fame
It is not their fault in any way if in life i have not done well
I doubt they would feel proud of me for penning doggerel

For many years they are at peace by Cashman's lonely hill
The people who gave life to me are now forever still
Among many of the deceased of Millstreet at peace they forever do lay
And from the Town by Clara hill i do live far away

The young boy of the fifties is now showing his years in gray
For each and everyone of us there is a last night and day
And it will not matter to me then if i never knew of success, wealth and renown
I well may live my final days far south of Millstreet Town.

Of my memories of my first home-place in Claraghatlea  others i fail to impress
Their body language tells to me that they could not care less
Of my stories of the people of Duhallow and the Parish of Millstreet
And the old fields where the rushes grow and the waterways do meet

They quickly change the subject to cricket and football
Which is understandable that my memories mean nothing to them at all
Alone with all of my memories with no one of them to tell
Perhaps i ought to leave the past be since on it too much i dwell

It is not my mum or my dad's fault since they are not to blame
That i have not achieved in life success or wealth or fame
Near bald in my late sixties the years have left me looking old and gray
Far south of Clara mountain and the green fields far away.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Grace O Callaghan

One of Millstreet's finest when in her life's prime
Though this is going back many Seasons in time
So sad to learn Grace O Callaghan from life has passed away
In the old Cemetery at Drishane her last remains lay
So attractive looking and slender and tall
Such good mental images of her to recall
But Life's Reaper on all lives does have the last say
And for all of us there is a last night and day
In Liscahane never to be seen again
But good memories with those who knew her in Millstreet of Grace will remain
The news of the passing of one we knew reminds us of our own mortality
And what was for Grace O Callaghan will be for you and me
From life's cares for all of us a final release
And in Drishane's old cemetery Grace is now at peace.

Why Otherwise Pretend

Many of us enslaved in our phobias and fears
That does not seem to lessen in the advancement of years
But in death from our cares for us all a release
Which accounts for the saying may he or she rest in peace
With others young children by their parents are programmed to compete
To be best in their neighborhood and best on their street
To be best in their region and best in their town
With their much greater dream of Worldwide renown
To feel reasonably happy in life is all some wish to be
But even this at a premium in the twenty first century
In a World of billions of people for many it is a struggle to survive
Where to be amongst the best many young people strive
But peace for us all at our life's journey's end
This is how it is for us all why otherwise pretend.

From Claraghatlea I Live Far South

From Claraghatlea i live far south thousands of miles of sky
This is as far in distance as most migratory birds do fly
I have not been there for many years not heard the robin sing
On a green leafy birch tree in the prime of the Spring

River birds of the past i used to hear and see
The scratchy notes of the dippers once familiar to me
I have not heard for many years and may not hear again
Only the memories of what was with me now remain

Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
Old memories of what was are mine to enjoy
But the passing of time has left me looking balder, older and gray
And from my life's first memories i live far away

Perhaps on this day in mid January Finnow bank high to the Blackwater does flow
And old Clara is wearing it's Winter hat of snow
It is cold out of doors in mid Winter in the cold rain and sleet
By the Boggeragh hills near the Town of Millstreet

Today is quite warm in Victoria close to forty degrees
With great warmth in the sunshine and southerly breeze
Quite different from Duhallow by the hills far away
Where the cattle in farm sheds are bellowing for silage or hay.

Thursday, January 16, 2014

You May Be The One

You may be the one the masses celebrate
But on you like all things there is a use by date
Since we came to life as mortals the facts do not lie
Like all other life forms we eventually must die
Another night leads into another day
And our biological clocks on us ticking away
Time does not wait for you and it does not wait for me
All life journeys do end this is our life's destiny
Today is the last day some will live to see
But life will go on this is how it will be
Only Nature it will live on forever more
This is something you may have heard often before
And the longer you do live the sooner you will die
Whoever said this first was not telling a lie.

Virginia Kruger Gone North

Virginia Kruger gone north to the Town of Mackay
Queensland gain is Victoria's loss of her is true to say
One who likes the tropical climate of above average sunshine
The north Queensland weather it will suit her fine

Virginia one who has traveled far and wide
Prefer the urban lifestyle to life in the countryside
She has traveled her bit in the big World out there
Those with the bug of the wander yearn for places elsewhere

She will find joy and may even find love in the Town of Mackay
Where all year round there is sunshine almost every day
In any one place her's is never a long stay
The adventurous lifestyle does suit her okay

Her type of person everyday one not lucky enough for to meet
Beautiful and intelligent and friendly and free of conceit
With the passing of the Seasons her friends in numbers have grown
One can say of her she is in a class of her own

She sits with her friends enjoying cake and tea in the cafe as the sun is going down
Above the Pacific ocean in Mackay's tropical Town
The loss of Virginia to Victoria has become Queensland's gain
But she will return to visit her friends and family in Melbourne again.

When People Are Intoxicated Or Drug Induced

When people are intoxicated or drug induced their creativity is heightened
They seem to be what is known as more enlightened
At such a time their creative juices are flowing
The capability of the human brain is way beyond knowing
Drug and alcohol consumption brings to the surface the talent by us that is suppressed
The hidden thoughts in many of us at such times are expressed
Self doubt at such times suppressed in our thinking
Not all bad things do happen out of pill popping and drinking
With a few beers in i do feel a lot better
My thoughts freely flowing are no longer in fetter
You may say i am talking a whole lot of baloney
As i would be if i told you my name is Maloney
With a few beers in i feel in the mood for doggerelizing
That beer can heighten one's creativity does this seem surprising?

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

Aghinagh's Vincent Coakley

A tall and classy Gaelic footballer the midfielder complete
Aghinagh's Vincent Coakley played for Aghinagh and Cork and Millstreet
He and Kippagh's Con O Connor the best midfielders in Cork at their best
Were never found to be wanting when put to the test

Though this is going back some three decades in time
I remember Vincent Coakley in his physical prime
For Millstreet he gave many a memorable display
Perhaps in his dark hair there is gray today

Beyond Aghinagh he is one widely known
The Millstreet fans did claim Vincent for their own
And why not they for he was a fine sporting player
Not many at his best who with him could hope to compare

On Sundays in Summer in Seasons long gone
In Cork County Championship games in Coachford and Macroom we cheered Millstreet on
Though down on the scoreboard the Finnowsiders were fighting back
With O Connor and Coakley at midfield sending them to attack

Tall and stylish Aghinagh's Vincent Coakley built like a running athlete
He played for Aghinagh, Cork County and Millstreet
In his physical prime some three decades ago
And time as we know becomes everyone's foe.

Wherever I Go To

Wherever i go to the past goes with me
At least anyhow this is how it seems to be
The birds are chirping and singing in Birdsland today
Though Birdsland from where i live in kilometers far away
From the gravel pathway that circles the lake
I can hear the loud quacking of the female black duck and the softer quacks of the drake
Where i used to walk with old Jedder my black and white canine friend
We had such good times but all good times do end
The bones of old Jedder in Wonthaggi lay
But true to me till her life's end she did stay
In my mind fond memories of her with me does remain
And i throw the stick or ball for her to fetch again
Wherever i go to my past follows on
How wrong of me to think that it is in the forever gone.

Enough Of

Enough of Kevin Ruud, Julia Gillard, Tony Abbott and Penny Wong
We are here for the beer the laughter and sing song
And forget Bill Shorten, Tanya Plibersek, Julie Bishop and Malcolm Turnbull
Of talking of politicians we have had a gut-full
Forget about Djokovic, Federer, Nadal, Williams and Murray enough of them we do read of and hear
Though tennis in the news at this time of the year
It is not to talk of politics or sports that we are here
We are here for the music the singing and the beer
Though quite important to us in our lives over all
We should not go to the pub for to talk of our spouses, family or football
The pub at the weekend evening to go to for two hours or three
For to enjoy a few drinks in relaxed company
For beer, laughter and song the pub should be the place
But more often than not this is not the case.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

January In Victoria South West

The weather temperature high over thirty degrees
With warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze
That rustle in the bushes and trees in the park by the bay
Even allowing for January in Summer it is quite a warm day

The warm air full of the buzzing of flies and of bees
And the cattle lay chewing their cuds in the shade of the trees
And from a nearby paddock the sweet scent of grass recently mowed for hay
Comes wafting in the breeze to the park by the bay

The nearby paddock a month ago green today looking more brown
And the water sprinklers are going in the park of the town
And the songs of the magpie larks pleasant to hear
The birds who sing pee wee every day of the year

Young sparrows under the house eaves in their ball of hay nest
On this warm day in January in Victoria South West
In the blue sunny sky just a few clouds of gray
And children in the park playground laughing at their play.

Just Friendly Acquaintances

You may think you know me for we chat when we meet
Some days in the park and some days on the street
But to me it is obvious and you too must feel aware
That few things in common we do have to share
You are a good person in your own sort of way
Of this of you i can truthfully say
But your opinions on life are quite different to mine
As different as whiskey to taste is from wine
A different World you and i do see
At least anyhow this is how it seems to me
We are just friendly acquaintances not friends this is how it seems to be
But then it is each to their own would you not agree
Each time we do meet though this is not every day
We chat for a few minutes in a civilized way.

A Fair Go For All

A fair go for some apply to their own kind but it does not mean a fair go for all
And some in their thinking seem so very small
A fair go for all means a fair go to everyone and to all does apply
And this is something that any human being to anyone ought not to deny
When i say a fair go for all should be everyone's due
I only say here what happens to be true
In a World where there are millions of homeless and displaced people and millions of refugees
Poverty even amongst the poor does come in varying degrees
For their right to a fair go people should not have to fight
As such is a thing that ought to be everyone's right
A fair go for all became extinct in the Human World many centuries ago
It's extinction created by political leaders who defined their friend from their foe
A fair go for all is no longer with us though it's praises i like to sing
To think that it died centuries ago  does seem such a sad thing.

Monday, January 13, 2014

Mt Napier

Where the volcanic hill known as Mt Napier Ever looks down
On the brown and stony country near Hamilton Town
From it's crater in centuries long gone red hot lava did flow
In what century or time none can tell or would know
Named after a famed artist of the south west Victoria countryside
Napier Waller was one who was famed far and wide
But centuries before he came to life and knew of great fame
The hill named in his honor had it's Indigenous name
In the paddocks by Mt Napier and for many square kilometers around
Volcanic rocks and stones in great numbers abound
The legacy of a time when the rivers of burning lava did flow
When the mountain of fire lit the sky with it's glow
It was old in the age of the dinosaurs and in the Dreamtime
Mt Napier the volcanic hill that has inspired story and rhyme.

Greater Time

In years of time we may seem old but in greater time we are not
For in greater time even those in written history will be forgot
Like all life forms we are mere mortals this and nothing more
And few in human years do reach the ripe old age of five score
Like all living mortals we are born to die
The same for the billionaire as for you and i
And greater time has been and will be forever it does not have an end
It is as old as Nature why otherwise pretend
And you and i mere grains of sands in the greater sands of time
As well as everyone else we degenerate physically every year past our lives prime
In greater time the greats of human history eventually from history will fade
And the future heroes from the future masses will receive the every accolade
And Nature and greater time will be living on
Long after the last human name from history has gone.

The Praises Of Some

The praises of some i do like i do sing
But i live in my own way and do my own thing
And what is your business it does suit me fine
For your business is surely not any business of mine
We are all individuals with ways of our own
And the ways of the true self to self not even known
Yet the saying of do unto others as you would like them do unto you
Is something that i do believe to be true
And since all of us different in our own sort of way
Each to their own as some do like to say
Living life is like a game for one to win others do lose
Though losing is a thing anyone does not choose
The praises of some i do like i do sing
But i live in my own way and do my own thing.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

I Did Think My Past

I did think my past was in the forever gone
But wherever i go to it does follow on
In the memory bank of my mind suppose it will stay
For as long as i live till my last night and day
I was a boy of the fifties this is going back in time
And it has been awhile since i was in my physical prime
The passing of time has left me walking slow
Every year on us telling as older we do grow
The past may be gone but the memories of it remain
And often in memory i return to it again
In a faraway town as i walk on the street
Old friends from the past i often do meet
And we greet with a handshake and a friendly hello
The old friend and me of the Seasons ago.

Old Dick

The years on him now are beginning to show
Far north of the land where the Bass  waters flow
The man who has been there and who has done that
From Adelaide to Perth and Broome to Darwin and down to Ballarat
Working on building sites and pipelines and many a shearing shed
A fellow who has slept in many a bed
Though he has had a woman in many a town
Due to his lust of the wander he could not settle down
You ask him did he father children to you he will say
I really do not know though with many women i did lay
Old Dick in his mid seventies will never travel again
He spends his days in a wheelchair and there he will remain
Till the Reaper claims the life from him whenever that will be
That he has been there and done that one has to agree.

There Are

There are poets and those who do think they are poets
And sheep who are so very different to goats
And there are fish and water and marine birds and mammals different in every way
Difference it is the word of every day
There are musicians and composers of genres not the same
But each of them would not sound different under another name
And between artists and sculptors the similarities are few
To this you may say do tell us what is new
There are cats and dogs but of them it seems true to say
That all cats and dogs behave in their own way
And there are educated and dumb people but i have come to realize
That so called dumb people can be clever and wise
But we are all individuals would you not agree
And you in your ways are quite different to me.

Saturday, January 11, 2014

The Rhymes Do Come To Me

The rhymes do come to me and i pen them down
But never for money or for literary renown
Just one of those people who was born to rhyme
I have been a rhymer for four decades of time

A near to perfect day of twenty two degrees
With warmth in the sunshine and warmth in the breeze
Not too warm or too cool just a nice Summer's day
Earthly Utopia from here cannot be far away

Not too cool or too warm for the time of year
The chirping of young birds so pleasant to hear
Butterflies of many colors white to red spotted and brown
Seemingly dance in the sky above the park of the town

In the clear blue sky just a few clouds of gray
And in a nearby paddock the sweet scent of grass recently mowed for hay
And the park looking so green after recent showers of rain
With such beautiful weather how could one complain

Ever since i was a boy her i have admired
And of singing Nature's praises i have never grown tired
For January in the Southern Summer such a pleasant day
Utopia from this place cannot be far away.

The Writers Write Of It

The writers write of it and of it the singers do sing
The great gift of love is a wonderful thing
But that love can be temporary of such one must feel aware
And loves that do last a lifetime have always been rare
Unconditional love among humans almost unknown
Since most people are born with ways of their own
But on the unconditional love of your dog you can depend
Your dog always will be your unconditional friend
Love can be beautiful when in it's prime
Though most loves are known for to fade in time
The gift of love it is a great gift indeed
And of more of it the Human World is in need
It is a fact of life and fact does not lie
That in a World of love humans in wars would not die.

In Me Room For Self Improvement

In me room for self improvement tell me something i do not know
As i age like many others spiritually i do not grow
In most of us room for self improvement when you see it in this way
Too much love of self for the mind not healthy despite what some of this do have to say
We all have our human flaws to cope with your's are different to mine
And that we look at life quite differently is something that does suit me fine
As long as you never deliberately in your words hurt anybody's feelings and put other people down
To me you are an okay person and an asset to the town
It is said what you or i dislike in others in our own selves we do see
Though with this sort of thinking many others may not agree
I can only live my own life be as good as i can be
For to make a better World to live in i must make a better me
In my moments of self reflection i have come to realize
That in me heaps of room for self improvement this to me not a surprise.

Friday, January 10, 2014

Tommy Tucker

A hero to all Ballydaly fans in Gaelic Football
Of the no longer club he has left them with many good memories for to recall
He coached Ballydaly to a great Duhallow Championship win in nineteen seventy five
Decades of years post death of the club such good memories survive

That day in a long gone Autumn the spirit of Ballydaly did burn within
When they won a Duhallow Football Championship in for the Club a great win
A down to thirteen Ballydaly overcame fifteen from Knockscovane who ran out of steam
On what was a great day for Ballydaly fans and their Gaelic Football team

But it was to their coach and mentor the Ballydaly players turned to for one them to victory to inspire
The likeable Tommy Tucker the one all Ballydaly people do admire
It was he who inspired his players when forsaken by the Gaelic Football Gods
For to play their way to victory against all of the odds

Today Ballydaly does not have a Gaelic Football Club which does seem sad to say
And Tommy Tucker has grown older he has known a better day
He has people skills a rare gift one in a class of his own
And in Duhallow and Sliabh Luachra he is loved and widely known.

In Myself I Despise

I am down on the egotistical but what does this say of me
That i am as screwed up as the word can be
Big egos around me are all i do see
An endangered species the one of humility
In an age where most people with each other compete
Those with normal sized egos becoming harder to meet
Self promotion in the twenty first century the in thing but having this said
Success never goes to the self effacing one's head
We all need some ego in order to survive
And many as they age become less egotistical with loss of sexual drive
And the ego dies with us as we draw our life's last breath
The ego and the brain it does inhabit are lifeless in death
And on not liking the egotistical i have come to realize
That what i dislike in them in myself i despise.

I Will Go On Rhyming

Perhaps from penning doggerel i ought to have a rest
I have been told by a few that for me it would be best
For to give my brain a break from it maybe i should heed their advice
But penning stuff is my addiction and for such there is a price
To pay for addictive behavior a bad habit hard to give away
I feel compelled to pen more stuff i make rhymes every day
Yet it is something i enjoy doing for years i have been a rhyming buff
In forty years of rhyming i have penned a heap of stuff
The rhymes to me keep coming perhaps i will be rhyming till i die
If i said i would give up rhyming then this would be a lie
The rhymes i pen are simple and easy for to write
And easy to read and memorize and easy to recite
I am one of those people who with words does like to play
And i will go on rhyming despite what some of me do say.

Thursday, January 9, 2014

From Hamilton To Casterton

Through an undulating hilly countryside in Summer that often looks less green than brown
The roadway from Hamilton to Coleraine and on to Casterton through the hills winds up and down
I have driven on this roadway when South Australia bound
In this undulating countryside great beauty to be found
A dangerous road to drive on for those who drive too fast
For some young people who have driven on such steep roadways their first drive was their last
Such natural scenic beauty that Nature does create
The views from Hamilton to Coleraine and Casterton with Australia's best does rate
But on such steep and winding roadways the driver must drive with care
It is not the roadway for rally minded drivers of danger unaware
Not anywhere near as famous as the coastal Great Ocean Road for it's magnificent ocean views so widely known
But for it natural beauty the road from Hamilton to Casterton with any can hold it's own
From Hamilton to Coleraine and on to Casterton Town
For many miles the undulating roadway through the hilly country winding up and down.

That We Can Create Our Own Reality

That we can create some of our own reality does seem fair to say
But on our life journey destiny leads us on the way
What appears right to you may not be so to me
Suppose this is how it is and it always will be
What we dislike in others is what we dislike in our own selves we do see
Though with this many may choose for to disagree 
Projection of feelings on to others is a flaw i must own
Quite a common flaw that to many is known
And though to so many flaws of the self we are blind
In recognition of our weaknesses some strength we do find
Though imperfect ourselves the poor behavior in others we are quick not to condone
But leave it to the one without sin for to cast the first stone
That we can create some of our own reality does go without a doubt
But then anyone never does wish for to be financially down and out.

Mary From Mayo

Perhaps in her late fifties to early sixties we talked of times ago
A kind and caring and pretty woman is Mary from Mayo
I met her on the sidewalk of Commercial Road in Koroit Town
By the Warrnambool-Penshurst road where many cars and trucks pass up and down

We quickly came to realize that in the past friendships in common we did share
Though for migrants to have mutual memories to say the least not rare
Memories of our deceased mutual friends John Tarrant and Marty Kerins with sadness we did recall
Their fate one day will become ours since death comes to us all

Peggy Connolly nee Lynch a friend of her's i know of and we share Eileen Tarrant nee Smith as a mutual friend
But commitments and time most of us are slaves to why otherwise pretend
I feel sure we would have had more mutual friends to talk of but we had pressing commitments elsewhere
It is true it seems a small World after all in the big World out there

For as long as the great gift of memory with me it will stay
The memory of this chance meeting in me will not fade away
That some memories are not special to us it well may be so
But this is something i could never say of meeting Mary from Mayo.

Wednesday, January 8, 2014

Live Hare Coursing In Ireland

In hare coursing bad decisions by good judges are rare
The flag always goes to the dog who shifts the hare
The faster dog the hare dodges left or right to avoid
In a Winter sport in Ireland that is known Countrywide

But hare coursing in Ireland it has known a far better day
And it will be banned if the anti coursing people do have their way
Though in recent years the coursing dogs are muzzled it remains classified as a blood sport
And the coursing fans numbers dwindling and coursing losing support

Hare coursing, fox hunting and bull fighting  in the past glorified
But nowadays such cruel sort of sports on the decline Worldwide
The day may not be far when a ban on all such sports will be applied
Even by their fans such sports near their use by date cannot be denied

Live hare coursing in Ireland is on the decline
Though the use of a mechanical lure for coursing would suit the protesters fine
Another classified blood sport could be nearing an end
Live hare coursing in Ireland is no longer popular why otherwise pretend.

The Winner The One

A losing performance few do celebrate
But there is a huge difference between good and great
And though you may be a winner for to give you your due
Keep it in mind there is always one better than you
In the number one spot you are not going to stay
The best in the World will be beaten one day
The champion the one others do want to beat
There is little joy in being gallant in defeat
To the winner the big money the praise and the fame
The loser does become a forgotten name
Human life in some ways it is lived like a game
In so many aspects it is much the same
The winner the one by the masses admired
And the loser one never does look to for to be inspired.

Marie O' Sullivan

Daughter of Tom and the late Breda Hickey and sister of James and Con
Marie Hickey sadly lost her mother at a young age but bravely with living life she carried on
Born and raised in Claraghatlea near Millstreet as Marie O' Sullivan she now is known
Living with her husband in Cullen in Duhallow with a child of her own

In their tender years the Hickeys did not have luck on their side
Lost their wonderful Mother Breda at a young age to cancer she died
But they are blessed with a good father and in life have done okay
The children of the nineteen eighties are the young parents of today

With Marie i share things in common since Claraghatlea is our first homeplace
And in life our early childhood memories back to there we can trace
That green and ancient countryside just west of Millstreet Town
On where old Clara of the Boggeraghs is ever looking down

Of the good and not so good times Marie is one who could tell
But she now is a young mother and in life is doing quite well
She is now living in Cullen where her paternal seeds were sown
But she will always be of Millstreet and in Claraghatlea one of our own.

Tuesday, January 7, 2014

The Moyne

In fancy i can hear the dark pale eyed crow
In a paddock near Port Fairy where the Moyne waters flow
Close to the end of it's journey to the Pacific shore
Where it has flowed forever and will forever more
Backed up by the Pacific as it nears Griffith Island it silently  does crawl slow
How old are the rivers would anyone know
They have inspired writers to story and rhyme
And were very old in the age of the dinosaurs and the Dreamtime
Long before people did give to it a name
And long before the first Australians to the coastal lands came
The Moyne the old river slowly wound it's way
On to the pacific by night and by day
To the south west Victoria's country the Seasons have come and the Seasons have gone
But the Moyne to the Ocean forever flows on.

Old Joe

Old Joe often feels moody and fed up with life
And tired of the nagging of his cranky wife
His middle aged son and daughter parents of teenagers from him far away
And he has not seen them for many a day
He and his wife Kate separated under the one roof
Of that love can grow cold and bitter they are living proof
On frosty speaking terms they quarrel a lot
How to love each other and make love they seem to have forgot
But at the local pub on a Saturday night
Of his life's worries he does make light
But after closing time he does walk home for to sleep on his own
The feeling of true love for years he has not known
In his late seventies his balding head gray
He has known a better and a happier day.

Many Who Thought They Were Indispensable

Many who thought they were indispensable are now with the dead
But life does go on after after their eulogy is read
It is so silly to think that when life from your body has gone
That life in the World without you will not go on
Of some hard to replace seems a fair thing to say
But in any cemetery any indispensable person does not lay
Babies are born and people do die every day
And life does go on since this is life's way
And few who do die have their life stories told
And time ticks along and people grow old
The great forest tree will eventually fall
And time as is said does take care of us all
The reaper of lives on all lives has the say
And those who thought they were indispensable with the dispensable lay.

Monday, January 6, 2014

I Often Do Think

I often do think of my first home far away
Where i used to live before i grew bald and gray
A place i used to love but where in i did not stay
And where i might well be a stranger today
I would be a stranger to many and many there i would not know
Where River Finnow to the Blackwater flow
I last saw old Clara twenty seven years ago
Even back then time it was becoming my foe
The wanderlust in me for places elsewhere
So much for to see in the big World out there
Far from the damp fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
And River Finnow to the Blackwater flow
The memories nowadays only with me remain
Of faces and places i may not see again.

Old Goran

As happy as Larry of him one might say
Old Goran the Croatian he laughs every day
At the local pub he always leads in the cheer
His laugh it grows louder with every beer
Old Goran and Anka his old German wife
They have been together for decades of life
The eldest of their seven grandchildren is a girl of nineteen
Her old grandma and granddad their best days have seen
Tall and straight for one of eighty his balding head silver gray
Old Goran about him has a likeable way
Though he speaks good English his birth Country's accent with him does remain
In Goran Croatia's loss was Australia's gain
For his entertainment he does not walk far
For to spend an hour with his mates drinking beer in the local bar.

I Cannot Say

I cannot say in life i have been there and done that
Though i have worked on pipeline crew in and near Ballarat
And in the Yarra Ranges i have lopped and felled tall trees
Though for such work one does not need any uni degrees

And by Mushera Mountain in the cold rain and snow
I felled pine and spruce trees when the wintery winds did blow
But going back in time this now seems long ago
And time as we know becomes everyone's foe

I was baptized Francis though i have been called Francie and Frank
And as life's high achievers do go i am not one of high rank
Just one of those plodders who does keep plodding on
Though my best years in life in the forever gone

I am not one who can say that i know it all
Since my accumulated volume of knowledge seems small
I just wish to be happy and healthy for as long as i live
And learn how to receive and learn how to give.

Sunday, January 5, 2014

Clement Kelleher

In Tooreenbawn in Millstreet in Duhallow he raised his family and lived for most of his life span
Clement Kelleher was a well liked and a well known man
Predeceased by Sheila his loyal and beautiful wife
In her he did find the great love of his life

Of him many good memories for to recall
In his younger years he played Gaelic Football
A man larger than life of him one can say
Amongst the deceased of Millstreet his last remains lay

One who made many friends and lived in the good way
Millstreet Parish the worst for his passing today
A man who was well worthy of farewell tears
His legacy of good memories will outlive him for years

Clement Kelleher in Duhallow was known far and wide
The card games and forty five drives he enjoyed
Every day of his life a new friend he did gain
The life from him may be gone but the good memories of him will remain

With the many friends and acquaintances he had accumulated over decades of time
He had lived to a good age his children now well past their prime
Yet sad to think the heart that beat with kindness is now forever still
In St Mary's in Millstreet in view of Cashman's Hill.

Noise And Sound

Girls will be girls and boys will be boys
And where there are crowds of people there is lots of noise
We are the noise makers of the twenty first century
And this includes you amongst others and me
Suppose there is a big difference between noise and sound
For one always seems absent when the other is around
As if they do not like each other and cannot agree
At least anyhow this is how it seems to be
In his great poem 'We Are The Music Makers' Arthur O Shaughnessy said
But where noise does abound music does seem dead
They are very different would you not agree
One does seem quite cluttered the other has harmony
And in a World of billions of men and women and girls and boys
Where crowds of people assemble there is bound to be noise.

A Hard Old World To Live In

A hard old World to live in where it is each to self and own
Where from over swollen egos false legends are grown
We are now in the age of the me, myself and i
But only memories of true greatness outlives the graves of death and all others do die
Many children from an early age by parents taught to with each other to compete
For to be best in the neighborhood and be best in the street
For to be up there amongst the World's best after being best in the town
So many crave for the success that will lead them to renown
We are now further from an Earthly Utopia or so it does seem
A World free of self conceited people who compete for public esteem
Than at anytime in human history or so it seems to be
Or is it what i dislike in others is what i dislike in me
My heroes are the people with compassion who for the down on their luck do care
But it is disappointing to think that their type are becoming rare.

Saturday, January 4, 2014

You May Think Your Past

You may think your past is in the forever gone
But the memories down the decades do follow you on
And for as long as the gift of memory you retain
In your mind with you memories of your past will remain
Memories of a sinful past you may have lived to regret
But they stay in your mind though them you may wish to forget
Like the good memories the bad memories with you will stay
For as long as you live till your last night and day
Yes your memories your lifetime are with you to stay
And only in death from you will go away
Though your sins for you were not too great to forgive
You are linked to your memories for as long as you live
This is how it is and it always will be
And in this respect you are no different to me.

Hibernia For Ireland

Hibernia for Ireland was it's original name
Which translated means 'Place Of Winter' from the Romans it came
When they arrived from Britain a nearby shore
They came saw and left and to there returned never more
Hibernia for the Romans was too cold a place in for to stay
Even in myth and legend there is some truth it does seem this way
These old stories from ancient history do seem to abound
But even in myth and legend some truth to be found
Names are just that as some do like to say
The Country once known as Hibernia is the Ireland of today
It may be far from accurate old history orally passed down
Of the many conquests of ancient warriors of renown
The Romans called it Hibernia and from there sailed away
From the Country that is known as Ireland today.

In Fancy I Hear The Male Snipe

In fancy i hear the male snipe in his aerial courtship display
With wings and tail make goat like sounds on a calm night in May
Above the moonlit bogland the memories with me stay
That followed me across the World from places far away
Good memories are with us till our last night and day
They live as long as we live as the wise one does say
Above the moonlit bogland across the starlit sky
The male snipe's drumming courtship flight as in the night he fly
I first grew to love Nature when i was a young boy
And learning things about her today i do enjoy
That i know so little of her ways should not come as a surprise
Though of her we learn new things every day i have come to realize
And sometimes in my flights of fancy the male snipe i do hear
Above the moonlit bogland in the Springtime of the year.

Friday, January 3, 2014

The Great Educator

For our every mistake in life some price to pay
And we learn as we live as some do like to say
And life has a new lesson for us every day
The great educator it does seem this way
That what we receive from life may well be our due
In some instances anyway happens to be true
But to live a happier life one must learn to give to receive
On such a philosophy i for one do believe
It is surely a fact and fact never lie
That we learn from life till the day we do die
And since we are born as mortals why otherwise pretend
Life is a journey that one day will end
For the monarch and the president and the one in poverty
And the billionaire and the celebrity and for you and for me.

Old Davy

Physically well for one in his early eighties without an ache or pain
Old Davy is a man who does never complain
The passing of time may have left him balding and gray
But he is happy to make the most of every day

One who does not have children or he never had a wife
But he did have a few love affairs in his life
And though he is too old for women now of himself he does say
He does make the most of his life's every day

The good things in life to him beer laughter and song
On Saturday evening at the pub he joins in the sing along
A likeable fellow and locally quite well known
Over the passing of time his friends in numbers have grown

Old Davy in his young years traveled far and wide
And of his past he is one who has nothing to hide
He may be an octogenarian but life he does enjoy
And in his ways he is as carefree as a happy boy

One of those one always feels happy to meet
I often see him walking in the park or on the street
A lovable old character free of any conceit or guile
He greets everybody with a cheerful good day and a toothy smile.

New Year's Day Twenty Fourteen

In south west Victoria a rainy start to the new year
But the flute of the magpie so pleasant to hear
In Koroit Town on the streets few people to be seen
On a quiet enough start to the year twenty fourteen
In south west Victoria last night in every village and town people did celebrate
And the pubs and the clubs were open till late
For Summer the day it is cool a high of eighteen degrees
And the rain it is dripping from the windblown trees
But after a spell of dry and warm sunny weather how can one complain
As the south west counrtyside can do with some rain
The weather forecast for the next week has the weather warm and dry and fine
With thirsty southern winds and many hours of sunshine
In south west Victoria a rainy and windy start to twenty fourteen
And in the Town of Koroit few people to be seen.

Thursday, January 2, 2014

Kippagh's Con O Connor

He played for Ballydaly and Duhallow and wore the Millstreet green
And in the red jersey of Cork he was often seen
Kippagh's Con O Connor was quite a man in his prime
Though that is going back some three decades in time

Con and Aghinagh's Vincent Coakley at midfield for Millstreet Cork's best on their day
For Club and for County great games they did play
When the dashing gaelic footballers in the green of Millstreet
With the best in Cork County were known to compete

Kippagh's Con O Connor strong sturdy and tall
He was the man who did make big men seem small
One of the great characters of Cork Gaelic football
Of his younger years so many good memories of him to recall

From a challenge Big Con never did back away
He brought his physical presence to the field of play
Perhaps he is in his late fifties today
And in his flaming red hair there are some strands of gray

A man amongst men when Millstreet were great
But then suppose everything on it does have a use by date
One of Cork County's best Gaelic football teams and in Duhallow to the fore
But what once used to be it is not anymore

Kippagh's Con O Connor his physical best days are gone
But of the mighty man he was the good memories live on
The colors of Ballydaly and Duhallow and Millstreet and Cork he wore with pride
And he was a great fellow to have on your side.

New Year's Eve 2013

The strains of Auld Lang Syne in the pub i do hear
In three hours from now we will be in a New Year
The year 2013 will soon be a memory
As the last few hours of December fades to January
On the streets young people in groups sing and laugh as they walk up and down
And a rock band is playing in the park of the town
The one night of the year most people stay out late
An ending and a new beginning for to celebrate
Hope springs eternal as some like to say
In a few hours from now we will be in New Year's Day
Tomorrow some will wake late quite fuzzy in the head
All things can come at a cost as has often been said
Showers of sparks of light in the dark evening sky
From the fireworks display in the parkland nearby.

To Live And Let live

For wrongs that i feel to me that they have done
I cannot bring myself for to hate anyone
For to forgive others myself i must forgive
I just wish to be one to live and let live
Since harboring grudges against the hated one can lead the hater to commit a serious crime
And for the offense leaves the offender to serve years of prison time
The harboring of  a grudge can be a soul destroying thing
Since revenge through crime great shame on you will bring
For your crime to avenge a past wrong you will be made to pay
With plenty of time to think of your stupidity in your long prison stay
For wrongs done to me i would leave in the bygone
And live in the now for the clock on my life does tick on
When i forgive others myself i can forgive
And with the harboring of a grudge i have no wish to live.

Wednesday, January 1, 2014

In Life Every Day

In life every day a new challenge for you to face
But you can make the World for to live in a far better place
By becoming a better person and be willing to help those of helping in need
In life you reap the good Karma when you sow the good seed
Greed and selfishness nowadays are plentiful Worldwide
And are amongst the main causes of the widening gap in the social divide
The kind and compassionate one may never become a financial billionaire
Her or his gifts in life are to care and to share
Such people perform their good deeds every day
And to help others out do go out of their way
Such people never crave wealth and renown
And are never amongst the most admired of the town
But they sow their good Karma in their every good deed
And without the reward of monetary gain they help those of helping in need.

The Migrating Turnstone

High above the southern coastline in the gray southern sky
The lure of home is in them as to their far northern breeding beaches they do fly
The turnstone are leaving the far southern shore
On their long journey home to breed of twenty thousand kilometers or more
These small coastal aerial Worldwide travelers of dark brown to gray
When migrating they travel by night and they travel by day
On Australian beaches from early Spring to Autumn these birds one often does see
They are a familiar sight to many and a familiar sight to me
From Country to Country and from shore to shore
Every year by sky they travel forty thousand kilometers or more
Their offspring will travel south with them after being born and raised in the northern Spring
The wonders of Nature are an amazing thing
Above the southern coastline in the Autumn dawn cool and gray
The turnstone home for to breed northwards are on their way.

I Heard A Skylark Singing

I heard a skylark singing as upwards he did fly
A feathered minstrel of the Summer in the sunny southern sky
A musical speck in the vast Universe in the cloud World he did sing
To listen to the lark's song is always quite a pleasant thing
High above a sunlit paddock close to the Pacific shore
A song i first heard more than sixty years ago above the heights of Claramore
When i was just a young one twenty years short of my prime
But since then many Seasons since this is going back in time
The young boy of the early fifties is an aging man today
And time has left him feeling weary and his balding head is gray
And though what has been has gone forever the memories remain
And the carolling of a skylark takes him to the past again
From a paddock near Port Fairy close to the Pacific shore
To the slopes of Clara Mountain high above green Claramore.