Monday, October 4, 2010


Since the latest subjects of poetry on this blog seem to have been for the passing of friends, I thought I would post this lovely one by my father which he wrote on the death of my grandfather, Dougal.


Cold and brilliant the southern sky
Do you see it? old man?
Are you there?

Clear and sad the trumpet sounds
Can you hear it? old man?
Are you there?

Soft and slow the glittering tears
Can you feel them? old man?
Are you there?

Sky, trumpet and tears I lay,
On your grave, like a flower.
Old man.
Close your eyes in it's fragrance,