Death is Stalking...

I had a friend when I was four

We played upon his rocking horse,

His father said: ‘Be kind to him,’

And so I was, so gentle then.

He had bright red and rosy cheeks

And eyes that sparkled, only weeks

Before his father said: ‘He’s ill!

Come back again when he is well.’

But then I found, his father lied -

For shortly then, his son had died.

 

I had no concept then, of death,

That he was gone just took my breath,

I only saw his father’s pain,

His only child, a coffin came,

So small, and carried out with flowers

His mother wept, it seemed for hours

And silence settled on that place,

The rocking horse stood still, in grace,

While thoughts of darkness would impinge

That Death was stalking, at the fringe.

 

The mother died of cancer then,

A broken heart had brought it on,

The father stood out in the street

To watch us play, but most discreet,

He missed his son, his little pal

So took me walks by the canal,

We rambled through the countryside

And every now and then, he cried,

But turned his back, his private hell,

For Death was stalking him, as well.

 

Then I got sick and nearly died

Some thing went wrong with me, inside,

They put me in the old men’s ward

And prayed a lot, and mentioned ‘lord’,

I came back slowly from the brink

And then got out of bed, I think,

To feed an old man with a spoon

Whose eyes were dim that afternoon.

For years I thought I’d helped, they lied,

The day I left, the old man died.

 

I’ve seen so many come and go

In life, that one great picture show,

When sickness strikes from out the blue

Good people, as alive as you,

From cars they wrap round stobie poles,

From war, filled full of bullet holes,

One day they’re here, and then they’re gone,

The eyes are closed that once had shone

While I sit quiet here, and cringe

For Death is stalking, at the fringe!

 

David Lewis Paget

Author's Note

In memory of Roger Neilson, hole-in-the-heart baby, died aged 5 in 1949.

Reviews

[cynthiabuhainbaello]

Gripping tale and very touching story perfect as always with your signature meter and rhyme. I like this because there is something personal in it, a part of you and your childhood, and how you view Death and the emotions it brought out from you, as a child and as a man. Fantastic substance, form, message, and impact. You are an amazing writer David.

[Dhaye]

This is why I always love to read your narrative poetry, Sir David. I understand that we won't be here on earth forever. But it's really sad when you see the death of someone you love. :)

[redflutterby]

It is always there just outside the corner of our eye. When and where we don't know for sure which is a blessing I guess. The reason we continue on enjoying life as best we can. A very powerful write here David!! ;-)

[quinfinn]

a fitting tribute and a clever homage, well penned and full of emotion. i think this is the most personal thing i have seen you post to date. very nicely done, David.

[Tate Morgan]

Hi Dave well I will assume this one is an actual event .Sorry to see when our friends die.Young ones are always the hardest as the This is a little different for you.I think it goes well with my thoughts today. friendships have the same effect when they are lost and i cant help thinking of a few over the years i have lost.