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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan  11/24/2014 8:57:15 AM
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  Best Poems From
  FRANCIS DUGGAN
 
 
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  45.     

A Beautiful Day In Winter

A beautiful day in Winter with warmth in the sunlight
And the clouds in the blue sky so woolly like and white
And the white backed magpie piping on high branch of tall pine tree
A great day for to be alive and life's okay with me.

Some birds already nesting it is that time of year
Their babes will be fully fledged before blossoms will appear
Upon the leafless fruit trees in their blooms of pink to gray
And Spring though seven weeks off draws nearer by the day.

A pleasant day in July without a trace of cold
And dandelions on the Nature strip bloom the colour of gold
And the pink flowers on the camellia tree so lovely to behold
They bloom in the depths of Winter by Spring they will be old.

A beautiful day in Winter without a chill in the breeze
And the house sparrows are chirping on the sunlit garden trees
It would take a grumpy person with this weather to complain
Though by the weather forecast tomorrow will bring rain.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  46.     

A Difference Of Opinions

A difference of opinions just means you and i
On different subjects do not see eye to eye
And who is wrong or right is not for me to say
Since we do look at life in a different way.

On any one subject all will not agree
And what's right to you may not be right to me
If we all thought the same how boring we would be
Though 'tis said what we dislike in others in ourselves we do see.

'Tis our individuality from others that place us apart
But what does matter most is you be kind of heart
And you do not find joy in another's downfall
And you embrace the truth in a fair go for all.

We are all individuals for want of a better name
And even those with similar views not exactly the same
Despite a common ancestry and similar D N A
We all look at life in a different way.

Of similar things many of us may dream
But we all are quite different or so it does seem
Though we can be judged by the company we keep
The karma we sow is the karma we reap.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  47.     

A Homeless Man

When compared to mine his dreams are very humble he does not seek much out of life at all
A small flat he could call his home to live in compared to most his wishes seem quite small
At sixty seven years he's on the street and homeless a Winter dawn is breaking cold and gray
With long gray beard and looking thin and shabby he walks uptown as he does every day.

Some may say at his age he should not be homeless that life's many chances he left them go by
But they don't know him or his circumstances he is a person just like you and I
So many of us lacking in compassion beyond our own selves we can't seem to see
We applaud the wealthy see them as successful and condemn all of those in poverty.

Where did he sleep last night? the thought just chills me
perhaps on park bench in the park nearby
I feel so lucky I've a warm home to go to and a comfortable bed on which to lie
Save for circumstance his lot in life might have been my lot
his life story must be one of living hell
But who knows if there is a life hereafter his soul may go to live where angels dwell.

A wintery dawn above the city breaking and the nip of winter in the morning air
And a homeless man uptown is slowly walking a gray bearded man with long gray straggly hair
There's many more like him around this city people like him nowadays no longer rare
And when compared to him I feel I have been lucky and by circumstance I have been treated fair.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 

   
   
 

  48.     

A Cold Winter's Morning

The elms stand naked their brown leaves on the ground
On the gravel path by the winds scattered around
The overnight frost has left the park looking gray
Just after daybreak on a cold Winter's day.

The magpie on the blackwood tree seems brave to sing
He sings all year round though more often in Spring
But his voice sounds melodious at all times of year
And on a frosty morning so pleasant to hear.

The sparrows in the parkland are chirping away
In all sorts of weather they chirp through the day
Weavers classified as songbirds though that seems a bit wrong
Since sparrows as such they do not have a song.

A cold and frosty morning around zero degrees
The currawongs calling on the tall gum trees
Some say they sing their loudest prior to and during rain
And their currawong notes they repeat over and again.

A cold Winter's morning the park gray to white
Will green in the sun from the frost overnight
And the song of the magpie one cannot mistake
He sings on the blackwood just after daybreak.
 
Francis Duggan
   
 
 
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Poems By Poet Francis Duggan