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Best Poems From
FRANCIS DUGGAN
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6797.
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The Coastal Suburban Woman
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.
Her own boss she runs her own business she is one of the self employed
And she rose through the ranks to get this far and she has travelled far and wide
She's picked fruit, waitressed and washed dishes for to get to where she is at today
Self motivated and quite determined she's made it in the hardest way.
Attractive, well dressed and down to earth with great character in her face
And Laughter to her comes quite easy the marvellous gift of life she embrace
Not all business people are snobby as people we tend to classify
And to say that all high achievers are arrogant would simply be stating the lie.
One of the new breed of coastal career suburban women she lives in an apartment overlooking the sea
She jogs in the dawn of the morning and after work just before tea,
She keeps herself fit and eats healthy and she looks as slim as she's ever been
And she looks as young as most teenagers than many of those of nineteen
She jogs in the cool of the morning in the gray dawn before the sun rise
Along the deserted streets towards the quiet beach before the onset of the traffic noise
A beautiful woman in her early thirties happy and successful in her chosen career
Her type once quite rare on the increase and their numbers multiply by the year.
Francis Duggan
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6798.
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The Combined Life Spans Of Three People
Governed by whites of Euro race the country's finances they control
But this Southern Land still has got a black soul
And in that black soul there shines a bright light
Who said the fair dinkum Aussie is white?
Two hundred and fifteen years have passed since the arrival of Captain Cook
Only a short span in time's history book,
The combined life spans of three people that is all
And that doesn't seem a long history to recall.
The combined life spans of three people nothing more
Since Cook and his sailors moored their boats and came ashore
And on other peoples Land they staked their claim
Dispossession for want of a better name.
The combined life spans of three people doesn't seem long
But it seems too late now for to right a wrong
As the landscape has been changed forever more
By the invaders from another shore.
And the combined life spans of three people is all it took
For to give the landscape a new sort of look
And industrialization and environmental damage is on show
Since Cook's arrival two centuries ago.
Francis Duggan
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6799.
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The Coming Of May
The leaves on liquid ambar tree have turned a russet yellow
And balding oak stand in the rain like aged hoary fellow
And May stole through the silent wood and no one heard her coming
She came at dark in russet cloak when the frogmouth was humming.
On the high gum trees all the day the currawongs are calling
They come down from the high country when Autumn leaves are falling
Through winter in the Sherbrooke woods in flocks they sing together
You always hear them in the rain and in changeable weather.
The migratory birds have gone up north the wood and welcome swallow,
The pallid cuckoo and cuckoo shrike the call of Nature follow,
The migratory bird like migrant man at heart may be a rover
But she return home to breed when Winter days are over.
Deciduous trees will soon be bare 'til buds bloom in September
And they will wear their Summer green by dawning of December
If Winter come Spring must be near and homeward swallow winging
And Sherbrooke woods again resound to golden whistler singing
The May came in her russet cloak through woodland she stole quietly
Whilst ring tail possum on the tree from branch to branch stepped lightly,
She came unnoticed and unheard when boobook owl was calling
And withered leaves from oak and ash to woodland floor were falling.
Francis Duggan
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6800.
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The Coming Of Spring
The spring in gown of green came at midnight
And stole along the parkland in moonlight
And people of suburbia fast asleep
When Spring from tree to garden tree did creep.
This morning early wattlebird did sing
As if she knew it were first day of spring
And magpie piped a tune so good to hear
To welcome Spring to Southern Hemisphere.
The Spring has come for her annual three months stay
And then like wanderer she'll be away
And to distant lands beyond the sea she'll go
To bring new life and melt the winter snow.
The Spring came in at midnight in her green
A welcome guest though she has not been seen
In still of night she shuffled down the street
And no one heard her pass on silent feet.
Francis Duggan
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