…and the last post rings out over the graveyard
as we recounted the sad winter’s tale.
Your bugle now safely wrapped along with your R.E.M.E. beret
as those who loved you came to mourn and mark Time in the time
honoured way.
A husband, proud, strong and decent.
A Father and Uncle much adored and who was someone to look
up to; a brother to many who lined the aisle of the church
much like the way in which the trains
stood majestically when they had
come to a
halt.
The cold December day, the wind sneaking through the skin of the person
before and ruffling the purple velvet curtain that would bid you fare well.
Outside the remnants of the 11th day, the flowers, the Roses and the thinking of you messages
Were tossed aside, the wind and rain making its own
impression on the day as cousins forced apart
by Time and circumstances came together
to say goodbye to you.
Your sons, resplendent and honourable held tightly
to the woman you adored and who will remember
the music you shared late at night over a drink.
A generation of heroes that comes before my own period
is now one hero less but nevertheless
the memories will always remain.
In memory of David Harvey.
Ian D. Hall 2014