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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan  6/18/2013 1:56:54 AM
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  FRANCIS DUGGAN
 
 
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  3197.     

Con Sullivan

He was such a likeable fellow and in him there was so much good
And his spirit surely will live on in the high fields by Claramore wood
Though he'll never more hear the lark in the Springtime above the slopes of Clara hill
His friends they will surely recall him when wildflowers will bloom by the rill
That babble through Claramore downhill on to the big river it flow
In Claramore he raised his children and everyone him there did know
It could be said of Con Sullivan that he would not harm a fly
He always was friendly and courteous and to help you his best he would try
He loved and took care of his family and of him 'twould be fair to say
That he was honest and hard working and he earned his every take home pay
One can only hope that his end was not painful he did deserve a peaceful end
Since in life he was loved by so many and to many he was a good friend
And those with the good fortune to have known him the kind hearted one will recall
He died in the depths of the Winter and death it will come to us all.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  3198.     

Con The Lake

Up in the morning long before daybreak
Life was not easy for men like 'Con the Lake'
And he drove his lorry through the long tiring day
For an owner driver there's no easy pay.

A load of cattle to the fair in Kanturk
Might well be the start for him of a hard day's work
And a few loads of gravel and a load of sand or two
To be delivered to customers before his day was through.

But September perhaps his busiest month of all
For the turf was stacked and dry in Gneeves in the Fall
And the hilly road he journeyed up and down
That leads from Gneeves bog to Millstreet Town.

One of the six Dennehy brothers that I knew of or I knew
Jer, Sonny, Jack and Christy and Bill I heard of too
From small lake on their mountain farm their sobriquet came
And their children now still carry the nick name.

Con the Lake's second son Dan is an owner driver today
Like father like son it often seems that way
He to rise early drive before daylight
And he often works long hours into the night.

The mountain field by fog covered in gray
And the birds pipe in the early dawn of day
And the ghost of Con the Lake is driving still
Up the steep road that leads to Gneeves hill.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  3199.     

Concentrate On The Present

Concentrate on the present and on your present cares
The futures is like climbing up a dark stairs
You open a door and who knows what you'll find
The future will come and your past is behind.

The past we look back on and often recall
But the here and now matters to us most of all
And though to look to the future is never a crime
Tomorrow it will come on it's own good time.

You've heard of the story of the wealthy man
To become the world's wealthiest person his great future plan
But now all is dark and so quiet where he lay
On hindsight he ought to have lived for each day.

My only desire is to pen better rhyme
But even for that there may well not be time
The clock on the wall it just keeps ticking on
And the sky it is dark and the daylight has gone.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  3200.     

Conchubar O hEalaithe

A member of the Irish Workers Party and a Socialist and a true Republican
And he loved Ireland and the Irish Language Neil Healy was a very special man
A family person and a quiet achiever he was one worthy of far greater note
I'd like to write a poem in his honour were I born with the genius of a poet.

One who did speak the Irish Language fluently not many like him that seems sad to say
In the changing face of twenty first century Ireland in the ever changing World of today
A loyal supporter of Joe Sherlock of the Workers Party to the colours he believed in he was true
To many one who did choose to be different for that alone great credit is his due.

People like he was make a case for re-incarnation I'm only saying how it does seem to me
He did love places distant from Duhallow old towns in France in Celtic Brittany
His passing a huge loss to Celtic Culture he is one who will be hard to replace
In Millstreet he will always be remembered where his will live as a remembered face.

He always stood for what he did believe in one who was as honest as the word can be
And 'tis sad to think that on the streets of Millstreet he is one that in the flesh we never more will see
But the World was better for him living in it of him that would be a fair thing to say
Conchubar O hEalaithe is one well worth remembering and good memories of him will live for many a day.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan