2008 - Breeda and Marie Moynihan (the Diamond Sisters) with their dad Peter

Do not know how their name of The Diamond Sisters came about
Though of their great talent there is not a doubt
Despite this two attractive women untainted by conceit
Peter Moynihan’s daughters The Pride of Millstreet

The famed Diamond Sisters are known far and wide
Beyond the border of Duhallow’s green old countryside
Wherever they perform joy with them they bring
And no shortage of fans where The Diamonds do sing

Amongst Duhallow entertainers well famed and well known
One can say of them in a class of their own
From Aubane’s high country above Millstreet Town
Their’s has become far more than local renown

Some two decades back maybe closer to three
As youngsters with their siblings and parents them i often did see
I little thought then such fame they would know
It is out of little things great things do grow

Go ahead Diamond Sisters and sing one more song
And with you from afar i will sing along
The decades of memory for me you do span
And in me you do have a far away fan.

by Francis Duggan

He has worked in the Cork Marts for many years three decades maybe more
And he is well into his fifties now and of years near the three score
A hunting man he knows the countryside for miles around
And he could tell you where the earth of fox or badger would be found.

I last met Donal Hickey almost two decades ago
On a November sunday cold and gray the stream bank high did flow
And Clara with the bracken face he wore a cloak of fog
Out hunting with his terriers in Jack the Master’s bog.

One who lives close to Nature and of Nature much he know
On sunday he’s out hunting rain, hail, sunshine or snow
He keep the best fox terriers the best for miles around
Brave and fearless little hunters for fox they go to ground.

One of the nicest people that one could wish to meet
He still lives in the old homeplace at Inchaleigh in Millstreet
In that green and fertile countryside where the Finnow waters flow
And we were in the same classroom more than forty years ago.

by Francis Duggan

A stalwart defender in the gaelic football game
He was built like a tank and Tank was his nickname
He was of Clondrohid and was widely known
And in Millstreet the Club that he played for they claimed him for their own

Though back then in the early seventies he was getting old
A barrel chested giant of a man to behold
I was in my prime then as i do recall
But standing near him i did seem rather small

In Millstreet stories of Tank Driscoll abound
In his prime a stronger man than him was not to be found
One never found to be wanting when put to the test
Any forward who collided with him came out second best

A man amongst men of him one can say
He must be in his nineties if he is living today
On the train to Croke Park he was one i once met
The gentle giant Tank i will never forget.

by Francis Duggan

Jean Hickey always is the quiet achiever the quiet achiever in her own quiet way
She has helped so many people in their times of illness though of her good deeds she never has much to say
A nurse who is devoted to her calling and in her kind heart there is only good
And people like her invaluable to society for she would only help you if she could.

In the year 06 she will retire as a district nurse and from the call of duty she will have earned her rest
And it will take a special person to replace her for at her job she is one of the best
But as we know people do not last forever and retirement one day comes to one and all
Though Jean she played her part and in no small way and she was there to answer every call.

In the year 06 from nursing she’s retiring one well might say a rest she is overdue
Jean Hickey always is the quiet achiever and to the corporal works of mercy she is true
In her years as district nurse she has cared for many ill people and the story of her life ought to be told
And of this marvelous woman it can be said that she is truly worth her weight in gold.

by Francis Duggan

(Written some years ago)

At the Boeing new year swim he is always first in
Mick Collins the fellow with anti freeze skin
For one in his late fifties or early sixties not much younger than me
He is quite a tough nut would you not agree

Age is a relative thing the brave Mick does not feel old
Like the Arctic bear he must be immune to cold
One can say in him there is much to admire
To greater things far younger than him he inspire

Youth does have it’s fling with it’s youthful elan
But Mick Collins is not what you’d call a young man
Like his legendary namesake the man of Sam’s Cross
For words to describe him i feel at a loss

Perhaps the second oldest Boeing swimmer Hannelie O Connor as Mick quite as brave
She is one who does not fear a cold watery grave
One who refuses to allow time to become her foe
Good on you Hannelie for having a go

John Tarrant for the press, Sean Radley, Brendan Murphy and William and Ita Fitzgerald for L T V
Were there to record the occasion for Duhallow people everywhere to read of and to see
Thanks to Sean R and Mary O Mahony for the images and Eileen and Michelle and the organizing committee
And the sponsors and the swimmers young and not so young as brave as the word be

The Boeing’s oldest new year swimmer Mick Collins is way past his prime
But he does seem unfazed by the passing of time
Stripped down to his togs in the cold winter chill
He is a tough fellow the man from Cock Hill.

by Francis Duggan

Some of their sons in the colours of Los Zarcos nowadays line out to play
They win some games and lose some games that’s life as some might say
In The Mal Paso Pub they drink to celebrate a win or ease the pain of a loss as their dads did in days gone by
On looking back the decades how time does seem to fly.

That they have survived as a Football Club to their management credit is due
And their fans now as they always were to them remain as true
In Duhallow a lot of sporting clubs to the ways of time have gone
But the Spirit of Los Zarcos in Millstreet is living on.

Players who do not play for glory or money but for the love of the game
To wear the Los Zarcos colours is for them sufficent fame
The Seasons come and the Seasons go and few things seem to last
But the Los Zarcos Club in Millstreet lives and retains it’s links to the past.

by Francis Duggan

A huge crowd had assembled for the road bowling score
For to watch Denny Penny Kelleher of Millstreet from the road to Rathmore
In a winner take all bets take on Muskerry’s best
Both men in short shirt sleeves were prepared for the test

The Muskerry champion a strapping young man
In the prime of his life full of youthful elan
Gave his backers some confidence that he would beat
The great Denny who had pedaled his bike from Millstreet

Stocky Denny Penny his once brown hair then silver gray
Was clearly one who had known a far better day
Many present thought that to beat one more than twenty years his junior a bit much of him to ask
Though the ice cool Claraghatlea fellow undaunted by the task

But by three bowls of odds in a one sided score
Denny Penny had done what he had often done before
He had humbled one far younger in another great road bowling display
The old dog for the long road as some like to say

That evening in the Kilnamartyra Pub his fans lauded the Claraghatlea great
Denny Penny Kelleher who with them did celebrate
One who could drink all through the evening and remain on his feet
A legendary character the best of Millstreet

He left the Kilnamartyra pub just before sundown
And pedaled on his bike on the narrow road towards Millstreet Town
Into the freshening wind in the Spring moonlight
He reached his home in Claraghatlea after midnight

I tell you the story as it was told to me
Of a man who created his own history
A champion road bowler when in his life’s prime
Though that is going back many decades in time.

by Francis Duggan

Picture above is of a painting of Road Bowling – by Martin Driscoll (martindriscoll.com)

With John out for their evening walk she will not be seen again
But a kind hearted woman of striking beauty in memory does remain
She was one of Millstreet’s finest so graceful and so tall
Mental pictures of her with those who knew her will remain to recall

To that old Town by Clara Hill the Seasons come and go
And the passing of time eventually to everyone a foe
Gone from the Main Street in the flesh one loved, admired and widely known
The inspirational woman Lena she was one of Millstreet’s own.

Sad to think that her heart so full of love and kindness is now forever still
In her grave in St Mary’s in view of Cashman’s Hill
One can only hope that death for her was from life a painless release
Lena the wife of John O’ Keeffe may she now rest in peace.

by Francis Duggan

——-

Rest in Peace Lena

We would also like to thank some of the readers of millstreet.ie, who after seeing an article here, volunteered their time and energy to research some of the items which appeared in this book.

I met him at Rosemary Kelleher’s fiftieth birthday party with Kitty his endearing Irish wife
And they look well and young despite the passage of time and they don’t look ravaged by the cares of life,
Phil Cronin drank his beer and talked of Millstreet and back the roads of memory he did go
To the people he knew in the Town of Millstreet the Learys and John Sing and Mister O.

He talked of Jerry Shea big mighty Jerry he’s become a bird fancier of late
His house and backyard are full of bird cages you hear them if you venture by his gate
But Jerry Shea he always was so different he once raced greyhounds I can well recall
One of the last great characters of Millstreet if not the very greatest of them all.

Meeting Phil and Kitty was one of the many highlights of a very happy afternoon for me
For there were other people that I knew there people for years that I did not meet or see
Sean Fay and his devoted woman Josie I thought that I would never see the day
Him not drinking pots of beer with all of the others he told me he had given the grog away.

And Matt Duggan there with his wife ’twas good to see Matt for he was one that I had not seen for years
Since I last spoke to him he’s known great sorrows one might say he’s been through the vale of tears,
A warm hearted and courageous person he bears his crosses with such dignity
And like I say it was so good to see him for there are not many as good as he.

And Mick Kelleher the husband of the hostess our school going days in Millstreet I recall
In over thirty two years out of Ireland he hasn’t changed much if he has changed at all
Drinking beer and talking with Mick and Mrs Justice their greyhound interests give them common ground
And greyhound people not unlike horse people know greyhound owners and breeders for miles around.

The amazing Kit Cronan in her eighties a woman with a marvellous sense of wit
So bright and lucid the life of the party you won’t find many of her age like Kit
She hasn’t lost her marvellous sense of humour she had us laughing through the afternoon
The few hours we spent there just went so quickly the happy moments seem to end too soon.

Rosemary’s brother the Priest Father Cronan he made a speech and we raised our glasses of cheer
And to our hostess we sang happy birthday and wished her joy on this her fiftieth year
Her sisters and their husbands all were present as well as most of the famed Cronan clan
And she even had a phone call from her brother from Greg who lives in Asia in Japan.

The Kelleher sisters Lisa and Fiona, Lisa is one I’d not seen for some while
But she is still the warmhearted Lisa a lovely young woman and free of guile
And there were others present I did not know and they too helped to make the afternoon
And like I said the few hours went so quickly the happy moments seem to end too soon.

And my wife Janice too enjoyed the party she said the few hours were well worth the drive
It’s memories like this that makes life worth living and makes one feel so glad to be alive
As we drove towards Wonthaggi in the gathering darkness we talked about the party all the way
The stars were twinkling in the moonlit heavens a perfect ending to a perfect day.

And of Rosemary Kelleher’s fiftieth birthday party the happy memories with me will remain
I met old friends there I’d not seen for ages it felt so good just to meet them again
And memories they last with us a life time and our good memories we tend to retain
And I’ll remember Rosemary’s fiftieth birthday each time that I return to memory lane.

by Francis Duggan