Francis Duggan Poems

On a moonlit night she tells me she see
The tiny people dancing on the blackwood tree
And since she is a sane person a decade older than i
Why would she make up stories or why would she lie?
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If tomorrow I will not see the light of day
Get on with your own life I will be okay
And though success in my life I do not have to show
I've had a good innings as good innings go.
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Her shoulder length hair is as dark as the wing of a crow
The one from the place where the Bass waters flow
And her beautiful smile is a pleasure to see
You will not meet one less conceited or lovelier than she.
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In their National flag they do take such great pride
And they feel superior with god on their side
And their leader he tells them of us against they
But when they fight his war from them he's far away.
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A moonless night the sky is dark
A boobook owl calls in the park
And a fairly cool and freshening breeze
Is rustling in the blackwood trees.
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On the grassy mound on the grave in the backyard the windblown wildflowers nod and sway
Where Sam the faithful farm dog at rest forever lay
By the old rusted tin machinery shed his bones are in decay
From Jimmy his beloved master's house some twenty metres away.
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Greg a man of medium height and build is in his late sixties with the silver of time in his hair
In the early sixties he left his old Hometown in England for to experience life in the big World out there
He never did return to Scunthorpe or again set foot on his old Homeland shore
He grows old in this southern Country where one day his bones will rest forever more.
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I should have said sorry to Matthew
And I should have kissed Jelna goodbye
And I should have asked Joan out to dinner
Instead I'm left to wonder why
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One might say a fine citizen though his behaviour at times seems odd
He hates the next door neighbour because he worships a different God
Though I would have thought that a true God would embrace all of Humanity
The Gods that so many believe in thrive only in disharmony.
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The saltwater waves blue in the sunshine gently laps on the sandy shore
Far distant in sunny South Australia in beautiful old Semaphore
The lure of his Hometown is beckoning he's not been back for three years or more
In the Sem park with his mates he played cricket the cheers rang when runs he did score.
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