SONNET: MY MATE MARK RIP (1956 – 92) 

I wish these rocky days were at an end
and I could go at last to join my friend.
I have no great desire to stay on here
and would much rather simply disappear.

No-one will really mourn me, should I go
to that great drinker’s tavern down below;
much less is there some lover who might grieve,
were I to pop my clogs and take my leave.

I do believe he’s lounging with a beer,
somewhere that lager like a river flows,
where time is never called and no-one knows
what death might hold without this liquid cheer.

Mark Seymour was his name; he loved a drink
and waits, one poured for me, I’d like to think.

Raison D'Etre ►

Comments

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Martin Peacock

Mon 13th May 2019 15:19

Cheers Brian. I've been trying to find a way to honour him for years. He was my best mate 'back in the day' and he's sorely missed.

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Brian Maryon

Mon 13th May 2019 15:10

It could have been all morbid Martin, but you introduced a touch of optimism which lifted it.

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Martin Peacock

Mon 13th May 2019 13:04

That's very kind of you, MC. Thank you very much.

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M.C. Newberry

Mon 13th May 2019 12:58

A tribute in true spirit to friendship.
Cheers!

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