As the old message board was getting slow and unreliable this new board has been set up. Sadly all pre 2011 messages from the old book were lost into the either however the rest have been bought into this blog. It will now be possible to add photos so if anyone has photos of Martin that they would like to share do please add them. If you are a friend of Martin and would wish to periodiacally login and leave a post please email martin110877@gmail.com and I will send you the blog login and password.
Saturday, 27 December 2014
Friday, 5 December 2014
Visited your bench on Wednesday as did Cathy as well as flowers we left a poem that Dad wrote for you. So much love to you from us and many many other xxxx
The Bench
I like to think Old Joe watches over him at this place of rest,
For here he was free of demons and happy within himself.
His life cut short by faulty genes, laid down by biology,
What joy and memories he gave us before he slipped away,
His life cut short by faulty genes, laid down by biology,
What joy and memories he gave us before he slipped away,
I know Old Joe guards over him as he lies beneath the bench,
A part of him lives on, you see, in harmony with nature's fate.
His ashes feeds life anew to plants and bushes growing strong,
In this bed of Eden. "We are here," we say, "his spirit is so near."
A part of him lives on, you see, in harmony with nature's fate.
His ashes feeds life anew to plants and bushes growing strong,
In this bed of Eden. "We are here," we say, "his spirit is so near."
In the crisp autumnal evening, Old Joe casts his shadow on the bench.
Students drift by in chattering groups, their daily lectures spent.
The term is ending, time for play, Christmas and New Year parties await!
Life on the run, no time to stop, their laughter fades - they go from sight.
Students drift by in chattering groups, their daily lectures spent.
The term is ending, time for play, Christmas and New Year parties await!
Life on the run, no time to stop, their laughter fades - they go from sight.
Old Joe's hands keep moving on, towards the appointed hour,
Night closes and the stars sparkle faintly, in the universal sky,
Lifting the loneliness we feel, deep within our aching hearts.
Will memories of our young son, carry us through the dark?
Night closes and the stars sparkle faintly, in the universal sky,
Lifting the loneliness we feel, deep within our aching hearts.
Will memories of our young son, carry us through the dark?
Old Joe strikes three times, at a quarter to the hour of seven,
This was the time of his passing, I wish I could believe in Heaven,
All is not lost, he's with us now, in mind and spirit still,
Captured in the words for him on the bench beside Old Joe.
Colin and Monica Strawson
©CJAYS Poem 3rd December 2014
Monday, 11 August 2014
Birthday thoughts
Well my darling boy 37 today. This year your birthday has seemed so hard people who say it gets better with time are lying. Dad and I went to your bench with some flowers for you and told you about all the people who are thinking about you. David and Suzanne will be coming on Thursday tonight your candle is light for you I hope you can see it. xxxxxxx
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)


