In The Wood By Mushera

Poem By Francis Duggan

I logged pine treees by Mushera mountain a few decades ago
When the hills all around they were covered in snow
The early Spring mornings were cold often zero degrees
And frost in the air and frost on the trees
In that high wooded countryside rugged and wild
In April the weather grew warmer and mild
The nesting wood pigeons cooed in the drizzling rain
The past it returns to me time and again
The rill from the high ground downhill bank high flow
And I fancy I hear the caw of the gray crow
Echo in the valley in the still morning air
In the home of the hill sheep and the shy mountain hare
And in fancy the songs of the birds I can hear
In the wood by Mushera so far north of here.

Comments about In The Wood By Mushera

There is no comment submitted by members.

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of DUGGAN

Racism Is Around Me Everywhere

Of human ignorance I am almost in despair
For racism is around me everywhere
But like they say sheer ignorance is bliss
Just like Judas betrayed Jesus with a kiss.

A Beautiful Day

In the blue sky just a few specks of gray
In the evening of a beautiful day
Though last night it rained and more rain on the way
And that more rain is needed 'twould be fair to say

A Ballad Of Wasted Years

I have walked through tougher Harlem where few strangers dare to go
And I've been in London City in the rain and in the snow
And I've worked in inner Melbourne in the searing summer heat
And believe me if I tell you I have earned the bread I eat.

A Beautiful Person With A Heart Of Gold

She sees things of beauty in all that she see
And what's beautiful to her seems ugly to me
What to her is a flower to me is a weed
We do seem so different so different indeed.

The Sound Of Laughter

The sound of laughter is a thing of beauty for laughter spreads the very gift of joy
That people they are drawn to happy people is not that hard for to understand why
Since everybody wishes to be happy and laughter it spreads happiness around
And only the heartless could not like the sound of laughter for laughter is a very happy sound,

The Admirable Mo

My admiration for him it only does grow
For a braver one than he is of i may never know
A paraplegic due to a motor accident forty years ago
Now in his early sixties the admirable Mo