The Old Man's Grave

THE OLD MAN’S GRAVE

I was watching from a distance, as they lowered the coffin down
Another soul had passed away, I felt my facial frown

The family were weeping, as the prayers were duly read
This rather sad occasion meant, a friend indeed was dead

So many tears were falling, and such pain from all the hearts
The padre speaking final prayers, before the man departs

A family member then decides, to say some simple words
It was then I knew just who it was, the man who fed the birds

The cenotaph was where he sat, he’d have a smoke or two
His friends were written on the plaque, he fought for me and you

Rubbing palms together, to warm his cold numb hand
His nicotine stained fingers, had once played the army band

Some tales he’d often told me, of lands afar at war
Where young boy’s bones are buried, yet no-one knew what for

He often wore a three piece suit, with a pocket watch and chain
With shiny shoes and braces too, and a brolly for the rain

He loved that bit of company, to talk of times gone by
Although I tried so very hard, he always made me cry

This gentle man is telling me, how beautiful life is
He wishes for a world of peace, for my sake and for his

The pigeons and the sparrows, seem to know when Pete is due
They watch for him he brings for them, a little treat or two

A bag of mixed up bird seed, and some nicely toasted crust
Amazing how these creatures know, the person they can trust

Peter was a clever man, he’d been an engineer
He had a way of saying things, so factual and clear

He asked me for favour once, just do this thing for me
But only do it when I’m gone, co’s that is when you’ll see

Just try to make life peaceful, and remember all my words
Then pass on your experience, and please, please feed the birds

WRC