Farewell from my dad

As many of you many know, my dad, Richard Edwin Jones (REJ) passed away, peacefully in his sleep, early last week. On his computer, we found a document labelled Farewell for you to read below:

Post Mortem

This poet is not pinin'!

'E's passed on!

This poet is no more!

He has ceased to be!

'E's expired and gone

to mock 'is maker!

'E's a stiff! Bereft of life,

'e rests in peace!

If you hadn't nailed 'im

to the page

'e'd be pushing up the daisies!

'Is metabolic processes are now 'istory!

'E's fallen off the twig!

'E's kicked the bucket,

'e's shuffled off 'is mortal coil,

run down the curtain !!

THIS IS AN EX-POET!!

Please feel free to comment as my mum will be delighted to know that you have read his last poem.

Best wishes

Sally Lloyd

Out of Time

Tuesday’s child,

1.14 a.m. 14th October 1947.

He was from his mother untimely

Timely ripped, overdue,

Long before her time.

Caesar’s so fashionable these days,

Quite the rage!

You can already hear the clicking

Tongue, the pointed intakes of breathe,

“Late again Jones! Take a seat at the back.”

Enter the word warrior worrier,

Bulging out of woollen suit,

His hatred of all cold so evident.

Acromegalic malcontent

With other, blacker seed

Settling in, out of sight

And soon within those tiny fists,

His chosen means to fight.

Misaligned

He stands on the Cathedral steps,

Set square, every inch the image

Of Holly B movie gangster.

See how the nostrils flare.

He wears the drapes, slicked down hair,

Take care, come hither, stiletto stare,

Unfathomable eyes to all but those

Who come to know the shallows lurking there.

She stands at his side, first prize,

Picture perfect, A-list bride,

With a hint of frailty,

It should not be denied, but

Beneath the petals, razors hide.

She’s been through hell, emerged the other side.

When two such stars collide,

We know their fate,

The weaker will disintegrate.