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Don’t Write It On Their Epitaph.

When I was but a little tyke,
A phrase I’d heard grown-ups relate.
“Don’t write it on their epitaph”,
“Don’t spend kind words that late”.

Others passing will seldom notice,
Kind words now spent ‘bout others.
Would have meant so much more,
If shared by friends or brothers.

Why is it hard to find the phrase,
That says the things we aim to say?
Harder still to find a time,
To share kind words amidst the fray.

Today your name has crossed my path,
Reminded me of times gone by.
Times of joy, or fear, or triumph,
Each time we part with but: “Good bye.”

Well I had “time” today, to set a spell.
To stop and pause and gather thoughts.
And now I’ll share what’s on my mind,
How knowing you, much goodness brought.

We all know folks, nice people too,
The type we all call: “Kind and Just”,
But few we know, are always there,
When good times turn to bitter “rust.

That few that always seem to care,
Have that sense of “What’s happened there”.
Will always take the time to stop,
To sit and listen, when ya need to share.

Well you know by now, I’m meaning you,
We’ve known each other for “Oh so long”.
But in those years, I’ve never said:
“Thanks for being so near and strong.”

So I’ll “not” write these here, kind thoughts,
Upon you tomb or graveside rock.
I’ll write them here for YOU to read,
Each time you have an “elder” block. ‘o)

As you think back to what you’ve done,
Take out this rhyme and read anew.
How much you friendship meant to me,
My care for you, just grew & grew.


Written by oldbuck as he thought about some of the wonderful folks 
he’s known through the years and how seldom we tell them how much their friendship has meant. 
That oldbuck’s epitaph might read:
 “Oh that I lived, that a thought of me, 
might warm the memories of those I left behind.”
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