Where Eagles Fly


An idyll in ideology,

your smile still lights the sky,

the magic of your memory,

you laugh where eagles fly,

and live on in our laughter,

in the friendship you fulfil,

for your heart is part

of our ever after,

and you know we love you still.




For Vanessa.


Once Upon A Time

The world is a less exciting place

to live in now you’re gone,

I wish we had reconnected,

but I neglected you,

you, who was once my night and day.

Selected memories, poignant,

and pointedly shelved

until after the funeral,

delved into once more,

in search of ancient laughter,

and hints you believed in the fairy-tale,

despite no ‘happy ever after’.

The world is a less amusing place

to live in now you’re gone,

I wish we had reconnected,

but I neglected you,

you, who was once my hero of comedy,

the jokes, for me,

now seem in bad taste.

The waste of a life cut too short

has taught me a thought

that should not go unheard,

could be preserved in the written word,

and I keep everything,

as you told me to, for you sold me the glue

that keeps the pages of my life bound,

and the sound of funny in my tummy,

my inheritance,

other than your impertinence,

is the legacy of your laughter,

and the faith in fairy-tales – hope

in ‘happy ever after’.


The crazy never, ever,

Die – They live on,

In our laughter,

In our poems and our pity,

In our promises and rainbows,

In our zebra Faerie city,

They become legend, altered

Memory that fits awkwardly,

Living happily ever after,

In our ideals and hoping,

In our faith and cheese,

In our fervid coping,

The crazy never, ever,

Die – they live on,

In our laughter.


The Farewell Spell

That was the sound that floated on the breeze,
A lilting titter, melodious, infectious, it seemed
As others in the congregation began to smile and giggle.
Many wiped tears from their faces, unashamed
At their presence as the laughter filled
The room and fled towards the cemetery.
The laughter tickled the trees, brushing
The grass and flowers with sunshine
Before fading slowly like a memory.
And it did not seem inappropriate,
It was necessary, we believed
He would have loved that there was laughter at his grave.