Funeral Blues for Warren
Stop all the cocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent Stanley from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the karaoke and with muffled drum,
Bring out the coffin, let the loved ones come.
Let kites in the field circle overhead,
Quaking in the sky the message “he is dead”.
With the biggest heart and the one filled with love,
And the most callous hands with no need for gloves.
He was our North, our South, our East and West,
Nicola’s working week and her Sunday rest.
Our noon, Our midnight, Our Talk, His song;
We thought love that would last forever; we are not wrong.
The stars are not wanted now; put on every single one,
Clean the games room and wait for the sun,
Pour away the tea and dismantle the van,
We’re being strong now because you showed us we can.
Dan
18th October 2024
