Quietly Exceptional

 

Only when I reflect do I see someone different

to who he was when alive and I knew him

His life beset by a profound childhood experience

a war which endorsed violence as a part of life

A family man, unemotional and industrious

a husband faithful in adversity

A father unused to children

having had his childhood robbed of him

 

Beneath a superficial personality

lay an enquiring intellect

One frustrated with few if any friends or outlets

confined and consumed by home and work

The proverbial work horse, the provider

who in moments of freedom reached for culture

Poetry, literature, theatre and a host

of various collections to browse over

 

At the age of five years he took me to see Richard III

a vague memory but impressed on a young mind

A horse, a horse, my kingdom for a horse

as together we sat in a dark empty cinema

A passion for Shakespeare and

contemporary poets took him to his other world

He wearied of the mundane and dull people

with a hunger for a similar mind to converse

 

Orderly, organised, punctual and disciplined

he was his own master and that of others

Criticism was harsh, punishment severe

a sense of duty forever before him

He drank, smoked and always wore a tie

with jacket, gloves an other accoutrements

Concious of himself but impervious to criticism

he expected the same of others

 

He spoke a language often misunderstood

with values from another age

Compromise was not in his vocabulary

impatience bred anger with swift retort

Often enigmatic yet also predictable

his humour ribald, often dark

He died before his alloted time

with a wry smile on his face