Francis Duggan Woman Poems

A good woman can be an inspiration and inspire her man to greater things in life
And I envy him he is a lucky fellow the man with a good and a devoted wife
For a woman can make or even break you and a good woman is not that hard to find
The men may be more physically powerful but the mental strength belong to woman kind.
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For hours Maha waited with her little daughter for to meet the Prime Minister just a minute of his time
Just to talk about her husband Mamdouh locked up in prison for an alleged serious crime
In Cuba in a notorious penitentiary remote Guantanamo Bay
Far removed from his kin and his family more than half of a World away.
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I know of a woman who overcame cancer
To live she had the great desire
She has beaten something that has killed many
And she is one I can't help but admire.
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The very wise woman she said to her son
If you cannot love yourself you cannot love anyone
With what she said I for one cannot disagree
She does seem a very wise person to me
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The pigeons from the rooftop watch as she shuffles by
And they recognize their food source and down towards her they fly
On the grass margins by the pavement the pigeons mill around
As she opens her paper bag full of grain and spreads it around.
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Known as The Dog Woman she aged in the graceful way
She never used hair dye to hide her wrinkles or hair dye to cloak her gray
Her husband long deceased their only offspring their daughter a grandmother with her husband in the U S of A
One she had not seen for many a day
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Every good woman deserves a good man Christine I once heard a wise man say
And if you don't feel I measure up then send me on my way
Yes if you feeel I'm not man enough you know what best to do
Just tell me I don't make the grade I'm not the one for you.
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The poor unhappy young woman doesn't life seem so unfair
She owns her own big company her dad's a billionaire
But the love ache that is in her heart will take time to repair
Her lover he has left her he has found love elsewhere.
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In the sunshine a blackbird is singing in the front garden
on a birch tree
And she lives far south of Duhallow and her old home place of Knocknagree
A widow in her mid to late forties her brown hair is fading to gray
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With stooped shoulders and hair more white than gray
She shuffles to the milk bar every day
And nod her head in greeting say hello
To those she know or feel that she may know.
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The woman in God's waiting room her hair is silver gray
And she is over ninety and has known a better day
The mynas in the back garden they sing their Winter song
Her days are quiet and lonely and her nights are dark and long.
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She arrived here from Mexico City about seventeen years ago
And she's just had her thirty eight birthday a night out with her husband Joe
They live in Box Hill in Victoria where he has lived for most of his life
And she says in her beautiful accent 'me lucky to be good man's wife'.
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I spoke to her for half an hour but forgot to ask her for her name
This native of Duhallow from the village of Kiskeam
And that I came from Millstreet seemed to take her by surprise
I was first Duhallow person for years on which she had lain eyes.
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She doesn't use hair dyes or makeup to hide ageing signs away
The woman from Indonesia her hair is silver gray
A beautiful brown skinned woman of average build and height
And her smile is infectious she seems carefree and bright.
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Is she that lovely woman I knew her when she was in her prime
When I was a Primary school going boy long before I discovered rhyme
Her hair was brown and wavy in those days as it is still today
No doubt she's using hair dye to cover the natural gray.
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She had no chance of finding work in Bena so she left home when she had turned eighteen
The bigger world out there to her was calling and like they say the far off hills are green
She moved to Richmond close to busy Melbourne and she now works as a teller in a big City Bank
Only a year in her job and she has gained promotion and for her success she only has herself to thank.
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An ageing woman of no fixed abode
She has travelled down many a road
The lines of life etched on her face
And she is one who ages with grace.
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Do not make fun of the poor woman she may be old wrinkled and gray
She once was a young person like you are and you will be like her one day
And you too will look old and wrinkled and you too will walk stiff and slow
The woman is in her mid eighties and respect to her you ought to show.
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The one with brown eyes and brown hair her Hometown is Paris in France
She has such a sweet singing voice and to music she loves to dance
She is in her twenty fourth year and happy in her single life
For some very lucky young man she will make a beautiful wife.
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The last rhyme woman of Gippsland with the departed lay
She was one who loved Nature her poems live on today
The natural World inspired her and with Nature she belong
She glorified the beauty in the white backed magpie's song.
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By choice she is a vegetarian she does not eat fish or eat meat
Yet she looks quite happy and healthy though vegetables she only does eat
A beautiful and brave young woman for good causes she is prepared to fight
She believes that every air breathing life form to die of old age has the right
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In the mind of a woman a mother you'll find
For women are loving and caring and kind
The mothering instincts to women belong
Than men less aggressive and more mentally strong,
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To some man and woman he was born a son
And since harm to another he never has done
What he does in his life ought to be fine
And is not any business of your's or of mine,
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In some cultures polygamy blossoms and thrives
Where egotistical males have their harems of wives
The rights and wrongs of such practice is not for me to say
But if a man can satisfy one woman he is doing okay
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From her old homeplace of Moorabbin she lives far away
And though she feels that there she would be a stranger today
The memories of childhood with her does remain
And in fancy she visits the old suburb again.
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She lives south east of Melbourne with blue eyes and hair of brown
A woman from Duhallow from old Newmarket Town
Tall and slender and beautiful to look at she is only twenty three
The whole World is her oyster she is young and fancy free.
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The Country that she hails from is far north of here and far away
A heavily populated Indian City known Worldwide as Bombay
Her skin as brown as a ripe chestnut her shoulder length hair as black as coal
And her beautiful dark brown eyes are the mirror to her soul.
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She lives with her husband and their young son and daughter in Brisbane the brown eyed one with hair of dark brown
Far north of her old home in South West Gippsland the young woman from Wonthaggi Town
She often thinks of the old coastal Country glorified in poetry and song
With links to the historical Dreamtime and the tribe known as the Bunurong.
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She now despise him though she once did love him since love can be hate upside down
He left her for a younger woman whom he lives with in a nearby Town
She can't get it out of her system in her heart a festering thorn
'Tis so true hell has no more fury than a woman angered by scorn.
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The lilt of her accent i did recognize
And when she told me where she came from me it did not surprise
From a Town in Duhallow known as Boherbue
A place that was once quite familiar to me.
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It isn't for love she is with him the ageing and bald headed Stan
But to his money she is surely attracted and money in her eyes makes the man
A blond in her late twenties and quite attractive and he has turned seventy four
But money to her is what matters and he is worth fifty million or more,
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Germaine Greer calls it as she sees it and public scorn she does not fear
She is a huge loss to Australia her thinking uncluttered and clear
She tells the truth as she does see it and her truth is not a popular thing
She doesn't laud legends or heroes and her praises few bother to sing.
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She is in her early forties single and carefree
And few of her age are as happy as she
And though she has seen many places she says more yet to see
The one from the roadway to old Knocknagree.
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For every man a woman some have been known to say
But in some places of one sex there's a shortage or so 'twould seem that way
And in some Towns some men don't have a woman and in some Towns some women don't have a man
And some without a partner have to live out their time span.
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Her shoulder length wavy hair dark as the wing of a raven one down to earth charming and wise
With a smile for to match her great beauty the woman with chestnut brown eyes
A tall young slim woman of striking beauty of her physical assets she does not seem aware
One can say nowadays her sort of person to say the least is very rare
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A woman of beauty she stands out in a crowd
When she walks down the street the wolf whistles are loud
But she walks on pretending she does not hear
There's lots of false courage in the drink known as beer.
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The woman in dark glasses her eyes I can't see
I wonder why she keeps on staring at me
Though she does not smile me does she recognize?
The mirrors to her soul from me she disguise
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A Young woman trying to save the Whales in old Port Fairy Town
A volunteer for Greenpeace she did not seek Earthly Renown
She asked me to become a Greenpeace Member for a dollar a day
But a dollar a day I could not afford that does seem sad to say.
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A beautiful to look at woman with blond hair and pretty blue eyes
That many young males are attracted to her does not at all seem a surprise
But male admirers swell the female ego of her beauty she is aware
She is a very vain young woman though people like her are not rare.
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How can you feel happy for others if your mind is bereft of joy
That's what the wise woman said to me when I was a nine year old boy
A gray haired sagess in her seventies one even quite wise for her years
But I was too young and too foolish to respect the wisdom of old dears
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The hustle and the bustle of England's biggest Town
Through the streets of inner London the traffic buzz up and down
And in her boss's office just off of the busy street
A shy young migrant woman her day's task must complete.
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In the cool gray dawn of the morning through the coastal parklands she run
And she goes to the beach in warm weather for a swim and a few hours of sun,
A blond woman in her early thirties trying to make the most of her life
Still single and free of the restrictions that is the lot of the mother and wife.
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He was quite a good looking fellow and he found it easy to smile
But he was a wilful deceiver and he had the gift of the guile
And Mandy she fell for his charm and she was not hard to deceive
He told her how truly he loved her and his false words she did believe.
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Is there any stopping this woman she seems to go on and go on
Her poems will be read by the masses though from this life she will be long gone
I see her poems on the Starlite Cafe that great poet never cease to surprise
The Queen of the Web Poetry Corner her distinctive poems easy to recognize.
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He had his chance to show mercy just a few short years ago
For to spare the life of a condemned woman who was waiting on death row
Yet he refused her a reprieve and mercy to her did not show
Don't tell me of George W Bush 'mate' of him I already know.
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The woman five doors down tells me her son Ted is the best player in the school football team
And that one day he will play in an A.F.L. Grand Final and that more than once of late she's had this dream
Of watching him receive the Coleman medal for best on ground on football's biggest day
Watched by well over ninety thousand people who cheer him on with a loud hip hooray.
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Only two of us rode in the carriage and she sat next to I
And she looked nice I watched her out the corner of my eye
A woman over thirty years with curly locks of brown
On seat near me on late night train going out of Melbourne Town.
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The young woman from Mullumbimby In South Gippsland won't grow old
She's only been here a few months but she find the Winter cold
In northern New South Wales the climate warmer by five degrees or so
In parts of the high Country of Victoria in Winter they have snow.
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On the beach the gray haired woman she stood looking out to sea
And as I walked by she turned and with a toothy smile said to me
It is such a pleasant morning hope you have a lovely day
And I stopped for a chat to her before going upon my way.
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Down by her woodland cottage the creek it trickles slow
And she lives close to Nature and there's little she doesn't know
About the birds and animals that in the woodland dwell
And even by their call or song each creature she can tell.
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