No Dearer Faithful Old Friend
It was a day when the crowded avenue of wizened oak trees
Loosened its first spluttering of yellowing leaves;
And far out across the stubbled fields, devoid of the
Swaying stalks,
The blurry outline of receding hills where long ago I
Gleefully walked.
For although our brief lives are but fleeting...
In truth...the greater joy to be found more in the
Journey than in the initial meeting.
But this indifferent day was a day when the Sun hid its
Sullen face behind a cloud;
And the dullened sky, pulling hard overhead, as dismal
As an old grey shroud.
Then my slow tread was as heavy as a broken mans heart
When poisoned with the anguish of Cupid's first cruel dart;
And half-turning, I saw that thin curl of wispy smoke;
And biting down on my words...felt the swelling lump
Rise up in my throat.
Aye, they say that true friends are hard to come by...
But upon my oath I swear, before that alter and God...
There one such as he, did dutifully lie.
Once, as lusty and as hearty as any steadfast Soul
Might be...
And better by any measure than a lesser man such as me.
Never has any misfortune fallen on a friend left
Behind greater than this...
No dearer, faithful old friend more ever so sadly missed.
Goodbye my true friend...we will meet again one day far across the other side of the immortal river. Your unbowed and staunch friend. J H Fleming.
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