Bob

This one's a poem I wrote when a wonderful old gentleman in the village died a few years ago.  He was also the (retired) vicar of the local church.  He was sadly missed and still is.

Bob


I walked past your house today,
Then - realising you were not in
Stood by the gate -
I noticed your garden shed.
Now I know you were always polite -
Raising your hat,
Wishing me "Good Morning"
And all that.
But I never wondered
What you kept in your garden shed.

You were always there
Caring - funny - serious -
A good, old gentleman -
A man who was gentle -
A "Man of God",
But not of the usual mould.

When you died
I spent weeks just talking to you.
Everywhere I went -
Around the village - country lanes -
I said all the things I never said when you were alive
And only lived down the road.
I know you heard me -
You said back all the things I wanted to hear.

Now - when I sit in the garden
You still walk by and always raise your hat to me.
I don't cry or feel sad -
Just smile back at you
And miss you.