Never again will I see his grey eyes,
shake his rough hand, or stand tall by his side.
Never again will he hoot his young laugh,
his joy like a brook, my soul like a raft.
Never again will I hear his kind words,
"I'm proud of you, lad, stick in and work hard."
Never again will he head out at dawn,
with me at his side, his childhood re-born.
Always, always I shall remember though,
his loving heart was like an open book.
He shared his eighty three year old pages
with all, and all whom he shared with was touched
by his selfless warmth - the kind that melts snow.
Blessed am I, in his life I partook,
my hero, my grandfather, my sage –
his wise voice so clear,
the beat of The Cut.
Tomas Bird - Shallow Sea 2013
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