You, finest mummer, around whom the glum blubbered with laughter
Ready applause at your coming and silence reigning after
When you died, that part of me for you alone died too
Bikes like ready horses ahead a sluggish hearse, mired by grief
Chief among us, bright-headed kindest, admired by all.
In the pub an altar to grief around which they speak of you in hushed tones
The bones we loved have left us alone, lowered into loam where we cannot after go
An afterglow in your wake which will blaze enough to light the lifetime of those left behind
A table adorned with sigils of your many facets
A playstation controller, an old school uniform, a lump of your favourite cheese.
Death strange, incalculable illness
If one could be raised from death by the willingness of those who would gladly replace you
You would be gracing us now, that amazing presence
But our short time with you is spent, returned to heaven
Well spent it was, many pleasantries are articulated
How well we all thought of you.
All the Benildus boys out again in one place like small break, it feels strange
For you none were strangers, you were graced with no shyness
Reminiscing about hours spent wrecking heads back then, smoking in the lane
You were always first to laugh and last to anger
Our pain equal to your goodness, all are witness to what should never be
As we wait out bitter pangs in anguish, we laud your attitudes
Plan always for distant tomorrows disregarding what fates may come
Be as Harry was to us, smiling with a welcoming word waiting on the tongue.
Alchemisland 
Leave a comment