Southampton,
Land of the sea, home of the brave,
To say goodbye with the crest of a wave
To play in the water and go jumble-sailing
(that surfing on couches sounds real entertaining)
A party, canalside, full pots of paella
Glasses of vino and bottles of Stella
A boat’s life offering the perfect slow pace
Chugging away with the sun on his face
And maybe a cellist attached to the top
Or resting a while with an afternoon stop
Searching car-booties for parts for a Beetle
Can bet on his travels the people he’ll meet’ll
Warm to the man whose eyes that do twinkle,
Arms that do hug and a nose that will wrinkle
A theatre turned into the Masque of the Red Death
A show designed to take away breath
That huge cowhide carpet he brought back from Spain
A marvel to look at and great to hide stains
“And why are you here?” he’d ask as he snapped,
Your soul and that canvas immortally trapped
A journey to Wales, the best train ride ever
Then playing in woods and with some endeavour
Fashioned bowls, wooded spoons, some knives and some forks
Then covering tracks to go off on walks
Wandering round sporting hats like tea-cosies
Flip-flops and jeans and a beard, I suppose he
Felt might attract the opposite sex
And I guess he was right (bow down in respect)
Talking of old flames, he’s a real King’s Cross hero
Taught the kids in his class the value of zero
Worked with the homeless at Shelter for Christmas
Driving down south through the night just to see us
A lover of mushrooms when raw or in stew
Always quite willing to make you a brew
Smashed with a kick the doors of perception
Went searching with torches to find his reflection
Crossing the States like Kerouac and Dylan
Charming the yanks with a smile oh so winning
Riding through Nashville one freezing cold winter
Climbing up trees without getting a blister
Met a nice girl and he said that he kissed her
Ten-thousand lanterns lift off by the lake
Peeled crawfish by rivers before a clambake
Building an arbor in Texas in Austin
Wandering forests so easily lost in
Erecting a pup tent in a yard as a gift
Calling his friends when they needed a lift
Slept under stairs with Greenpeace protestors
Took Evening Post pictures of those they arrested
Might finish a night with Burns or with Yeats
And a toast with a whisky to all of his mates
And laughing and laughing and laughing and laughing
And laughing and laughing and laughing
“You must listen to this, I know it’s for you
Come watch this play, it’s something quite new,
I must introduce this man I’ve just met
And this girl is the right one, you’ll see, I just bet”
Once said that the words don’t count at all
What makes sense is the standing beside you real tall
He’s teaching us still to love one another
Look after our neighbour, our sister our brother.
Dig deep with your questions and then ask another
Surprise other folk with acts of pure kindness
Make sure that we care for those lagging behind us
If the best you can say is he’s good to his horse
And the worst you can say is he ain’t
You know that Greg’s mount had a stable and straw
A paddock and friends and carrots galore.
To sadness let’s offer an act of defiance
Let’s say goodbye to the last of the giants
Lovely tribute, my friend
ReplyDeleteBeautiful.
ReplyDeleteWonderful. Sounds like a hell of a bloke.
ReplyDeleteJust wonderful, Nige XXX
ReplyDeleteA lovely tribute. I did not know your friend but I know the quality of him, from your eulogy.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great man; you've said it all Nigel, I know just what you mean. A spirit that will live on in the hearts of others. xx
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words, Nigel. He sounds like a great bloke. Peace.
ReplyDeleteAwesome Nige and extra special to hear you deliver it in person on Monday. Thank you x
ReplyDeleteSo sorry to hear of your loss but how lucky he is to have had you for a friend.
ReplyDeleteI really loved that man. It was an honour to carry him from the hearse and another to read out these words. I guess what we do now is keep his memory alive for as long as we are, make sure we follow such a shining example of humanity. When in doubt, ask "what would Greg do".
ReplyDeleteIf he was your friend Nigel, I know I'd like him too. moving and tender.
ReplyDeleteglorious! i know what it is like to lose a best friend, and you wrote it so well.
ReplyDeleteJust came across this thanks to a friend sharing (Karen M from Clayton Brook - Greg's Evening Post days) it was wonderful to be part of Greg's life and Celebration when you read this out Nigel. This poem is indeed a great tribute to Greg and points to the inspiration we can all take from his life well lived! love Larch
ReplyDeleteJust found this again, reading and beaming at the same time, thanks Nigel. Still miss the big guy, love Sacha x
ReplyDeleteGlad you stopped by. And I still miss him, too. x
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