In Inverloch In January
On the slated roof of the public toilet the silver gulls bask in the sun
And children in the sea side park are playing games and having fun
And the wattlebirds are calling on a flowering melaleuca tree
In Inverloch in South Gippsland the old village by the sea.
For those in the catering trade at Inverloch 'tis a busy time of year
The fish and chips and pizza shops at their busiest and the publican sells lots of beer
From the Melbourne eastern suburbs in January for the after Christmas holidays they throng
To Inverloch to camp for a few weeks where they party all night long.
Yet despite the presence of many human beings it is a common sight
To see beautiful eastern rosellas and galahs in the park in the sunlight
And to hear the migrant lories chirping on the coastal trees
And the white backed magpie piping in the freshening evening breeze.
In Inverloch in January when the Summer's in her prime
For the caterers and traders there it is a busy time
And on the spacious beaches many sun bake and families beach cricket play
And children with their parents in the shallows swim and enjoy their holiday.
poem by Francis Duggan
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At Inverloch
The magpie's voice floated across the oval as the sun was warming in the summery sky
In what promised to be a beach day for many a few hours of sun and ocean to enjoy
At Inverloch its been said the sea is slightly warmer and the beach is never overcrowded there
And in a place that is free of pollution so good to breathe in the healthy ocean air.
At Inverloch a sea side Town in Gippsland life always goes on at a steady pace
And even in the height of the holiday season it never is an overcrowded place
Some families from the eastern Melbourne suburbs at Inverloch enjoy their holiday
They swim and on the wide beach play beach cricket and for a few weeks relax by the bay.
At Inverloch a two hours drive from Melbourne a place of peace and beauty by the sea
Life goes on at a steady pace as usual even in the holiday
month of January
The magpie's voice it floats across the oval as the family pack their lunch and flask of tea
For the five minutes walk that will take them to the wide beach for two hours of sun or maybe even three.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In South Gippsland In September
On the fruit trees in the gardens the pinkish blossoms are in bloom
And by the roadside fences yellow flowers are on the broom
And the flute like notes of the magpie have such a melodious ring
In South Gippsland in september in the infancy of Spring.
The weather not too cool or warm it's a near to perfect day
And the nesting gulls are calling on the cliffs above the bay
And the bubbling song of the butcherbird is a joyful thing to hear
In South Gippsland in September it's a pleasant time of year.
The lark above the coastal scrub is carolling as he fly
And upwards he's ascending a small speck in the sky
And hidden in a tuft of grass her eggs warm beneath her breast
In south Gippsland in September his mate sits in her nest.
The pleasant sounds float to me in the freshening coastal breeze
Of crimson rosellas chirping on gum and wattle trees
And the hoarse cacklings of the wattlebirds are familiar sounds to me
In South Gippsland in September where the land meets the sea
poem by Francis Duggan
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Another Near To Perfect Day
In the sky the sun brightly shining the blue sky with some clouds of gray
On an afternoon in late October another near to perfect day
The white surf waves are gently rolling one reason no surfer in sight
And the silver gulls on the white beach search for food in the warm sunlight
An artist may well sketch such beauty and writers about it may write
By the coastal town on the surf beach there is beauty in peace and quiet
Today the ocean is not roaring no big waves for surfers to ride
The waves on the beach gently lapping so timid the sea at low tide
In the park the magpie larks calling the only notes they sing pee wee
And wattlebirds on the flowering coastal banksias their harsh calls familiar to me
On a beautiful day in the Springtime of around 24 degrees
And there is a cool sort of freshness in the cool freshening coastal breeze
Save for the silver gulls the beach is deserted and so clean is the fresh coastal air
A good memory to keep and to cherish and a good memory with others to share.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Return Of The Curlews
At Mcloughlins beach in the Spring of the year
The beautiful flute of the curlews one hear
The eastern curlews they sing as they fly
Their music echo through Gippsland's coastal sky
From the colder northlands they journey on down
Above coastal City and Village and Town
Above beaches and foreshores in September they reach
The mudflats on the foreshore of Mcloughlins beach,
In fancy i can hear them fluting today
Above the white mudflats from here far away
The wild voice of Nature is a beautiful thing
The eastern curlews how lovely they sing
Their unmistakeable song in my memory remain
And in fancy i visit South Gippsland again.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On The Second Week Of January
On the second week of January I hear the shrike thrush sing
His flute like notes so pleasant to them have a familiar ring
And Spring is but a memory and Summer near her prime
And that birds sing out of Season happens all of the time.
The piping of the white backed magpie his is a familiar song
By their songs Nature's feathered minstrels one cannot get them wrong
A pleasant Summer's morning 'twill make a pleasant day
And the paddocks of Wonthaggi scent sweetly of baled hay.
In a clearing I am standing surrounded by scrub trees
In such places the Aboriginal dancers had their Corroborees
They danced on Summer evenings before the sun went down
Long before there was a Gippsland or a Wonthaggi Town.
A morning on the second week of January with a warm summery breeze
And a forecast high for the afternoon of 25 degrees
One might say perfect weather for the time of year
North in New South Wales and Queensland 'tis warmer by far than here.
On the second week of January the weather warm and dry
And a goldfinch he is singing on a wattle tree nearby
And brown butterflies are dancing in the sunny morning sky
And Mother Nature's natural beauty is for all to enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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In My Wild Flights Of Fancy The Ocean I Can See
The blueness of the saltwater the white waves rolling free
In my wild flights of fancy the ocean i can see
The silver gulls and black backed gulls above the white beach cry
And the sun is shining brightly in the clear and sunny sky,
The children in the shallows they laugh and splash and run
In the coolness of sea water their way of having fun
On a pleasant day in Summer of 25 degrees
And there is a soothing freshness in the freshening ocean breeze,
The distinctive smell of the seaweed washed in by the last tide
A refuge from beach predators for tiny sea things to breed in and hide
Coastal people love the ocean and near the ocean they choose to stay
And in the coastal cemeteries their last remains do lay
The rumble of the ocean the white waves running free
And in my flights of fancy the sea is calling me.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Back In Semaphore
I've not been in this Town for a year or maybe more
But some familiar faces here that I 've seen before
And people walk their dogs in park by the sea shore,
It is good to be back in Semaphore.
Off of the jetty in the bright sunshine
The old fishing fellow casts his fishing line
He hopes to catch a few good sized fish for tea
Though of such there is not a guarantee
Some Australian Aboriginals still live here
In the shade of norfolk pine they sit and drink their beer
They socialize as one big happy family
In Semaphore the old Town by the sea.
The silver gulls in large flocks congregate
By picnic tables in the sun they wait
Like hungry beggars crying to be fed
On scraps of uneaten fish and meat and bread.
On canvas an artist might capture the scene
Of sunlit park of shades of brown and green
Where the recreational cricket players cricket play
And enjoy themselves on their weekend holiday.
In the late afternoon a freshening sea breeze
And mynas chirping on the sunlit trees
And saltwater waves lap on the sandy shore,
It feels good to be back in Semaphore.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The Wattlebirds Kept Busy All The Day
The wattlebirds kept busy all the day
From flowering gum trees chasing them away
But wattlebirds though big are not so fleet
And they can't catch purple crowned lorikeet.
Green neck and back and shoulder patch green brown
And reddish face and purple patch on crown
And orange patch on neck and undersides light blue
They live in small flocks as most small lories do.
These lorikeets in many places rare
But in You Yangs park one sees them everywhere
They feed in groups and fly from tree to tree
And make much noise and prove quite hard to see.
Gregarious birds they spend their daylight hours
Taking nectar from the eucalyptus flowers
And wattlebirds kept busy all the day
From flowering gum trees chasing them away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Party in the Park
Early morning, and the organisers are up with the lark,
Getting ready for this year’s ‘party in the park.’
They set up various stalls and marquees,
And tie coloured bunting between the trees.
Hundreds of people are expected to come,
So they’re really hoping for some summer sun.
A few hours later and the stage is now set.
They’re hoping that this will be the best year yet.
The entertainment all kicks off at twelve noon.
A man walks round selling coloured balloons.
At one stall, a lady paints designs on children’s faces,
While, on stage, a dance troupe go through their paces.
The stallholders are busy selling their wares.
The children enjoy rides at the mini fun fair.
The beer tent proves popular, especially with the men.
Children enjoy activities in the arts and craft den.
There’s a never ending queue of people buying ice creams.
Clutching a soft toy she’s just won, a little girl proudly beams.
In the mobile kitchen, they sell hot-dogs and chunky chips,
Whilst on the griddle, more beef burgers are being flipped.
Also on offer today, are temporary henna tattoos.
At the sweet stall, it’s hard to decide what to choose.
Young girls are having their hair put into pretty braids.
Most of the stallholders are doing a really roaring trade.
Up on the massive, brightly lit stage,
There are various acts, catering for every age.
Some people sit watching on chairs or a rug on the ground;
There are so many people; for a clear space they search around.
Evening time closes in and it soon begins to get dark,
And so to an end, draws this year’s party in the park.
The organisers pack everything away, in the knowledge,
That everyone has enjoyed this really wonderful day.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Port Fairy In January
Port Fairy in January on a warm and humid saturday
The beach full of people the young splash and play
In the shallows where the small waves splash onto the beach
In a place safe to swim where the life savers can reach
Anyone who gets in trouble and for help have to shout
To the beach for safety they will drag them out
And if necessary so give them mouth to mouth
The worth of the Life Saver is never in doubt
In the prime of the Summer at the start of the New Year
When people still enjoy the Seasonal cheer
Ageing and younger people and many girl and boy
A dip in salt-water do seem to enjoy
People of all ages and colours and mostly every Race
Make Port Fairy in January quite a busy place.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Warrnambool In January
Tis warm in the full sun but in the shade tis cool
And the magpies and the mudlarks are singing in the City of Warrnambool
Their music in the Summer air where the cars buzz up and down
On Lava Street in the heart of the busy seaside Town.
A pleasant day in January a high of twenty nine degrees
And there is a nice sort of coolness in the freshening coastal breeze
And the magpies and the mudlarks pipe their distinctive melodies
Near where the traffic it is buzzing on the sunlit street trees.
In Warrnambool in January in the holiday time of year
The accents of different races in the shopping malls one does hear
Quite a nice City to visit if you are driving that way
So many people there do smile at you and bid you a good day.
An old rural City in Victoria in the coastal countryside
The famed City of Warrnambool it is known far and wide
The magpies they are fluting and the mudlarks sing pee wee
And the Summer sun is shining on the City by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On This Beautiful Day
The waves of saltwater lap up on the sand
On this beautiful day in a beautiful Land
on the drying kelp and sea weed starlings search for sea lice and sand flies
And the calm coastal air full of silver gull cries
The sun shining bright 'tis a beautiful day
And the weather is warm for late Autumn and May
The wattlebirds call on the banksia trees
On a perfect day with only a slight breeze
The Autumn all but gone and the Winter is near
But this is such a beautiful time of the year
One of Nature's most beautiful sounds for to hear
The flute of the magpie melodious and clear
And how nice for to hear the song of the peewee
On this beautiful day in the park by the sea.
poem by Francis Duggan
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If I Should Farewell Old Wonthaggi
If I should farewell old Wonthaggi I'll miss people that I know there
I'll miss Georgie Waters and Stella Hitchins good people like them are quite rare
And Jessica Harrison and Julie Tyrell and Jack Iversen the unsung hero of old Loch Street
One who would go out of his way for to help you people like him one always don't meet.
If I should farewell old Wonthaggi as the wanderlust is still in me
I'll miss the volcanic cliffs of Kilcunda from where one can look out on the sea
And I'll miss the hills of Archies Creek that in Summer and Autumn look brown
Those old hills one can see on clear days from the streets of Wonthaggi Town.
I'll miss Inverloch and Cape Paterson pollution and factory free
I love these old quiet coastal places they will live in my memory
And the Village of Harmers Haven Utopia on Earth it does seem
A place where one could grow old and be happy if of the quiet life one does dream.
If I should farewell old Wonthaggi I'll miss the few friends I had there
The wanderlust is stirring in me and my future I feel is elsewhere
But I will miss the coastal Countryside that surround the old coal mining Town
Of Wonthaggi in coastal South Gippsland that is no stranger to renown
poem by Francis Duggan
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South Gippsland In April
The leaves on the deciduous trees are turning brown
Yet in the Parks and gardens of Wonthaggi Town
The mynas are singing their songs tell of rain
And the frogs they are calling in the roadside drain.
Though into mid April and the Winter quite near
The weather quite warm for the time of year
On the beach at Cape Paterson the sun lovers lay
It may rain tomorrow but the sun shines today.
Only six weeks left of Autumn the time ticking on
And quite Summery weather though Summer is long gone
The old coastal hills overlooking the sea shore
Have seldom looked this dry or this brown before.
South Gippsland in April a fresh coastal breeze
In the woodland is soughing in the sunlit trees
Utopia on Earth the South Gippslanders say
That from where they live Heaven is not far away.
The birds in the Parkland they whistle and sing
It is more like weather in Summer or late Spring
The sun shining brightly but those brown hills nearby
A few hours of rain now would surely enjoy.
poem by Francis Duggan
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It Is A Warm Day For September
It is a warm day for September around the 25 degrees
The nesting birds chirping and singing with only a very faint breeze
The Goddess of Spring in her glory the pittosporums in their grey flowers
The paddocks looking lush and greener as a result of the early Spring showers
On a blackwood tree the grey shrike thrush is whistling his voice so melodious and clear
And wildflowers bloom in woods and in paddocks Spring is such a nice time of year
A very warm day for September the sun shining in the clear sky
In the wooded park by the mountain the rosellas chirp as they fly
Such beautiful parrots to look at of mottled brown and bright crimson and blue
Better known as crimson rosellas to their given names they are true
The white backed magpies and blackbirds are piping it is such a beautiful day
And the first butterflies of the Season with brown spots on their wings white to gray
Are flying in the sunlit parkland around the blossoming trees
On this warm day for September of a high of 25 degrees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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A Pleasant Day In Gippsland In July
The breeding frogs in the shallow pools are croaking
But they fall silent as near you walk by
Elusive creatures their secrets of survival
Is that they are small and hard to see and shy.
The day is pleasant if a little chilly
Even though the sun is shining in the sky
Still one could easily find a climate more unpleasant
Than South Gippsland in mid Winter in July.
A time of year when growth is all but dormant
Yet every day is one day nearer Spring
And even in the pale weak Winter sunlight
The magpie on a gum tree briefly sing.
It is a pleasant day to walk in Nature
White fronted chats from ground to fence line fly
On Winter months in small flocks they assemble
In rank coastal paddocks where the ground is dry.
On pleasant days in Gippsland in the winter
There's things of natural beauty for to see
And it is nice to walk the gravelly pathway
When the yellow blooms are on the wattle tree.
South Gippsland in Victoria in mid winter
A pleasant day with a slight freshening breeze
And it's not warm although the sun is shining
And the temperatures around fourteen degrees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The timetable of four
The golden glows of sunlight hit me
The smell of freshly cut grass reached me
The sight of freedom exhilarated me
The sounds of birds intrigued me
The beauty around me radiated from everything
The long open stretches of grass
The shady woodlands going on and on
The unending number of livening creatures
The cawing raven in the tree branches
The worm busily digging in the soil
The fish swimming idly in the pond
The child playing happily in the park
It is summer now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Autumn
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are playing in the heaps of leaves
The leaves have all gone a golden colour
The ravens are searching for bugs in the leaves
The fish are swimming slower in their pond
It is Autumn now but it will soon change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Winter
I’ll still be in my tree
There are no children playing
There are no leaves on the trees
The ravens have all gone south
There are no fish in the pond
It is Winter now but it will soon change
It will soon change
It will soon change into spring
I’ll still be in my tree
The children are starting to come back
The ravens are backing cawing in the trees
There is new fish in the pond
There are new buds on the trees
It is Spring now but soon it will change
Soon it will change
Soon it will change into Summer
I’ll still be in my tree
Waiting
Watching
Writing
Thinking
PC Games
PC Games are children's favorite nowadays
Oh! those days have gone
When children used to play in the fields
They used to play football, cricket and hockey...
Now children are busy playing PC games
Various games like Farm Ville, City ville, Empire Earth, San Andreas, Age of Empires etc
Some of them are so addicted to it
They don't study
But others are exceptional
Playing those PC games are harmful for eyes, health etc
Those games are 3D and 2D...
PC games...
What about those old games?
poem by Z.I. Mahmud
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Merry Christmas Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas Happy Holidays
merry christmas(3) happy holidays
We've been waiting all year for this night
when the snow is glistening on the trees outside
and all the stockings are hung by the fire side
waiting for Santa to arrive and all the love will show
cause everybody knows it's Christmas time and all the kids will see
gifts under the tree it's the best time of year for the family
Chorus
It's a wonderful feeling, feel the love in the room
from the floor to the ceiling
it's that time of year
Christmas time is here
and with the blessings from above
God sends you his love and everything's ok
Merry Christmas Happy holidays
Merry Christmas (2) Happy Holidays
Bells are ringing it's time to scream and shout (scream and shout)
and everybody's playing cause school's out
celebrating the special times we share happiness cause love is in the
air
and all the love will show cause everybody knows it's Christmas time
and all the kids will see the gifts under the tree it's the best time
of year
for the family
repeat Chorus
Merry Christmas (2) Happy Holidays (2 times)
No matter what your holiday it's a time to celebrate
put your worries aside and open up your mind see
the world right by your side it's Christmas time
Merry Christmas(3) Happy Holidays(2 times)
*repeat chorus*
Merry Christmas(2) Happy Holidays
Merry Christmas(3) Happy Holidays(2 times
song performed by by N Sync
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Joy Of Their Laughter
The children are playing football in the park off of the street
The joy in their laughter it does sound so sweet
'Tis true youth is such a marvellous thing
Like the flowers of the fields that bloom lovely in Spring.
The joy of their laughter bring back memories to me
Of happy boyhood days of any cares free
In the Town park on Summer evenings we kicked the football
Such wonderful memories are good to recall
The years went so quickly and time did not wait
And I've grown grayer and slower and I'm putting on weight
The future belongs to the youth of today
Though they too will grow to learn that time quickly ticks away.
Some of those I went to school with now with the dead lay
And some are grand parents and their grand children play
The games they themselves played they run up and down
In pursuit of the football in the park by the Town.
As I walk to the bottle shop for to buy beer
The laughter of the children playing football I hear
Their best days approaching and mine in the past
But time keeps on ticking and nothing does last.
poem by Francis Duggan
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