Francis Duggan Poems

Though known to millions of people in the big World out there
The wealthy and famous person is local to somewhere
From someplace, village, city or town where he or she grew into a young woman or man
Though in their minds they may have outgrown where their life life's journey began
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I have been called Francis, Frank or Franceen some even call me Francy
And if you are the rhyming type then this would rhyme with Nancy
I have penned a heap of doggerel one might say an addictive rhymer
The schoolboy of the fifties is nowadays an old timer
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He speaks of rhyme and poetry he talks of writing prose
Three forms of literary genres as one must suppose
Which does give rise to difference as you may well agree
Paul Dunnell quite a worthy poet in his ways different to me
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I have traveled a bit lived in many a town
But i take them as i find them black, white and brown
For racism in my mind there is not any space
People ought not to be judged by the color of their skin or their race
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There are not many human beings free of conceit
The near flawless person i have yet to meet
But then perhaps the flaws in others i do see
Are the flaws that happen for to be in me
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Of brown eyes and hair as dark as the wing of a crow
She is from Murray Bridge where the dark Murray flow
As it nears it's destination the Pacific shore
On it's deep and slow winding journey that will be forever more
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Amongst writers one often hear of writers block
As if in the writers brain there is some sort of a lock
For to lock out all inspiration from the mind for a spell
Of this writers do have some stories to tell
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Long before the mildness of the Spring and yellow flowers are on the broom
On the cold and wet depths of mid Winter the the pale jonquils are in bloom
When the wattles are covered in their flowers as bright as polished gold
Even in mid Winter in the south lands Nature's beauty to behold
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She is such a beautiful person with shoulder length hair of silver gray
Though she is in her early eighties and she has known a far better day
Magella she never had children her long term partner Jimmy last year passed away
She says she would feel so much happier if he were living it is quiet where he now does lay
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When the windblown rain is drizzling from the sky
The Camellias bloom in Winter in July
In the front gardens of the coastal town
As the rain from the gray sky is drizzling down
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