This is a time to celebrate Albert’s inning, He loved his cricket when England were winning. We’re lucky that he managed to make such old bones, So we want this upbeat with no moans or groans. Dad wanted us to remember the man that he was, Not weeping or crying and that was because He’d … Continue reading Jane, John, Lizzie and Nick are all the loving children of Albert and Ida and asked for this poem to be written after the passing of their Dad. Grandchildren are Annabel and Lucy.
Written for a family after the tragic loss of their son, Matt, in their bid to show the senseless nature of teen knife crimes.
No one can imagine their son never coming back. Here just a second ago, we can still see his foot track. There’s his print still etched in the mud, But there’s no mistake that he’s gone for good. A knock at the door, police on the road, The expression of sorrow and deep heavy load. … Continue reading Written for a family after the tragic loss of their son, Matt, in their bid to show the senseless nature of teen knife crimes.
Written for Sue who lost her older brother, Andrew, a year ago.
Andrew When they were children they knew they were in luck, Three brothers and a sister, together they stuck. Holidays in Filey, playing by the sea, In their bungalow, happy and free. Spent every weekend from Spring Bank then summer, All of the six weeks, watching the new comer. Weren’t the summers much longer then? … Continue reading Written for Sue who lost her older brother, Andrew, a year ago.
A poem I wrote 20 years ago for my dear Dad. Our Dad You all know him with his black wavy hair, Loads of new clothes mum would force him to wear. Cardies and chinos with shiny new shoes, ‘Kitted out again,’ in royal and pale blues. ‘Do it and say nowt,’ and, ‘No bet … Continue reading Our Dad