For Shirley
This music has a...
You know..
Don't spell it out
Say driving in
And away.
Gagged by grief
I reverse in jerks,
An unskilled driver
As tactless as plonk.
The world humps
On, with you gone
Your name little cited, less googled
Recalled by few folk,
Gem of modesty
Words hampered you
Artist of the quiet nod,
Who suffered a tale
Told by diffidence
You wrote words with elegance
Gracing the page with devotion.
A saint wishes to the world
So I have learned
A saint is not always a haloed hand-pressed
Figure ennobled and painted by great artists;
I've learnt from a late saint
Can be unassuming, unambitious and slight
And humdrum, vulnerable to syllables
Pale in train or ghost on boat
Never preaching harm,
Of anyone, offering tincture
To the world's bruises.
No more nor less than the giver
I let pass without a wave
You quiet unassuming dispenser of light,
How can my rusty voice define you
My remorse anointed by my tears?
This music has a...
You know..
Don't spell it out
Say driving in
And away.
Gagged by grief
I reverse in jerks,
An unskilled driver
As tactless as plonk.
The world humps
On, with you gone
Your name little cited, less googled
Recalled by few folk,
Gem of modesty
Words hampered you
Artist of the quiet nod,
Who suffered a tale
Told by diffidence
You wrote words with elegance
Gracing the page with devotion.
A saint wishes to the world
So I have learned
A saint is not always a haloed hand-pressed
Figure ennobled and painted by great artists;
I've learnt from a late saint
Can be unassuming, unambitious and slight
And humdrum, vulnerable to syllables
Pale in train or ghost on boat
Never preaching harm,
Of anyone, offering tincture
To the world's bruises.
No more nor less than the giver
I let pass without a wave
You quiet unassuming dispenser of light,
How can my rusty voice define you
My remorse anointed by my tears?