So frail a thing as death could never fade
Such passion as you every day possessed
For music's rise and fall, the sun and shade
Of song and rhythm by which we are blessed.
And no one epitaph could well recount
The warmth and strength you gave to friends and kin,
With proud support in bountiful amount.
Just as one poem can't truly begin
To quantify your humour or your wit,
At times irreverent, at times obscure--
We all know how your smile and laughter lit
The room. And one must mention the allure
Held for you by those sky bound acrobats
Of air shows, and the call to bravery
Of Search and Rescue - those in the white hats
Retrieving souls from sites unsavoury.
And still remain, apart from all these charms,
Apart from all your joy in seas and skies,
The safety found within your tender arms;
The love that shone out from your hazel eyes.
So let us forthwith raise a parting glass
To you, who did remain for all your days
A man of honour of the highest class,
For whom our boundless love will last always.
YOU ARE READING
Loving Eyes (and Other Lies)
PoetryThe heartwarming, but not heartfelt, epitaph for an absent father. In a fog of dissociation and disbelief, surrounded by raw and authentic grief, the poet has created a piece guaranteed to ring vitally true for everyone except herself.
