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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan  6/19/2013 10:04:44 PM
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  FRANCIS DUGGAN
 
 
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  7805.     

Those grand old balladeers

Whatever happened to them those grand old balladeers
Are they lost and gone forever like the long forgotten years
The times are ever changing suppose they had their day
And will we see their likes again perhaps we never may?

They belong to another age some have been known to say
And for young and modern entertainers the old timers made way
Still we miss them from the barroom where they filled our nights with cheer
And we joined them in the chorus as we sat and drank our beer.

We miss them from the barroom their songs we did enjoy
And they left us with good memories and good memories with us till we die
They were seen as out of fashion and their music out of date
And father time took care of them and father time for anyone don't wait

Their songs had us in laughter and their songs had us in tears
And we miss them from the barroom those grand old balladeers
The last of an old culture they lived to entertain
And their fiddles and accordions in fancy we hear again.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  7806.     

Those Green Fields Of Kilmeedy

Those green fields of Kilmeedy I do remember still
They meet the gorse and bracken at the foot of Clara hill
A place of peace and beauty with mountains all around
Scarce touched by man's pollution where Nature's joys abound.

Even in summer in Kilmeedy the dawn comes with a chill
But skylark he is piping above the bracken hill
Through Spring and through the Summer he sings all through the day
And I fancy I can hear him o'er mountains far away.

The robin he is piping on flowering hawthorn tree
Across the miles of distance his music comes to me
And dunnock on the hedgerow and dipper in the stream
And song thrush piping gaily on ash by old bohreen.

All through the Spring and Summer the wildering flowers are seen
But green fields of Kilmeedy not always quite so green
In November and December the winds of Winter blow
And January and February bring frost and sleet and snow.

In mid March in Kilmeedy the first wildflowers appear
And weather still quite chilly though days of bloom are near
But April brings her blossoms and leaves behind her green
And May comes o'er the mountain the summer beauty queen.

Those green fields of kilmeedy I see them every day
And I hear the skylark piping o'er hillsides far away
And dunnock on the hedgerow and the dipper in the stream
And those green fields of Kilmeedy have never looked so green.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  7807.     

Those Hills Of Caherbarnagh

Those hills of Caherbarnagh they seem so near today
But i recall at other times they seemed so far away
And dark clouds o'er the mountains can only promise rain
And curlew in the bogland is piping once again.

The merry lark is piping up towards dark clouds he fly
Has anybody told him it's middle of July
He seem so very happy what reason for his joy
When fog steal down the mountain and rain is ever nigh? .

Those hills of Caherbarnagh must be as old as time
And perhaps they have not changed that much since 'Fionn' was in his prime
The grey wolves roamed these mountains before coming of man
And across the summit of these peaks the hunted red deer ran

Those hills of Caherbarnagh live in my memory
When i was little fellow they seemed so high to me
To boy of five or six years old the bracken clad hills were tall
But when compared to other hills to most they would seem small.

Those hills of Caherbarnagh i see them every day
Some times they seem so very near at more times far away
And dark clouds o'er the mountains can only promise rain
And curlew in the bogland is piping once again.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  7808.     

Those Known As The Fringe Dwellers

They live on the social fringes like outsiders looking in
Those known as the Fringe Dwellers those not destined to win
In a World of haves and have nots as have nots they remain
Seen as under achievers many must lose for some to gain.

The Government Ministers try to tell us the Economy is in the best of health
Though five per cent of the people control most of the wealth
Not much use a healthy economy to the homeless of the street
Without a bed to sleep in they cannot make ends meet.

We have those known as the working poor and the people on welfare
And five per cent own three quarters of the Country's wealth doesn't life seem so unfair
Some cannot gain employment because of their address
The few grow very wealthy whilst the many must live on less.

Those known as the Fringe Dwellers their numbers multiply
The battlers of the underclass their children in wars die
The Bureaucrats exploit them and they are used as a Political football
By a Government who pay lip service to a fair go for all.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan