Ware - a Reappraisal

He had a way with words, An avuncular style, A throaty little laugh, A world embracing smile. He didn’t suffer fools gladly, He thought that I was thick But not too bad really for A Yorkshire country hick. He came into my life For just a year two One of those characters That just passes through. Raw recruits together Both misfits in our way Wouldn’t be given houseroom In the Army of today. This was sixty years ago When his career came to end And so often over the years I’ve thought about my friend. Somehow I bumbled through A life of undiscovered crime While my poor old mate Got caught out every single time. I stood, both escort and witness, Even brought the final charge, That set in motion the events that Returned him to the world at large. He wrote to me from civvie street To say thank you and goodbye, An offer of continuing friendship? I didn’t even bother to reply All these many years later A thing I’ve lived to regret One of those true characters It’s so very hard to forget. A misfit who loved his words, Who tried to escape in drink, Who for a while survived Always living on the brink Not so many months after By mutual consent It was agreed Time that I too went. I wrote to my old friend I felt I had to try But like me earlier There was no reply. For a long time I missed him Missed his way with words Missed his throaty chuckle His laughter at the absurd. These many years later I still have fond recall Of my fellow misfit And how we survived it all. He didn’t suffer fools gladly Often told me I was thick But not too bad really for A Yorkshire country hick.