Bob Brown Poem by Paul Butters

Like Brian Wilson (of Beach boys fame) ,
Bob’s sheer genius,
Dark and colossal,
Towers over us all.
On photos they do look alike:
Both swarthy, brown-eyed with hair to match,
(Befitting Bob’s surname) ,
Well built and full of power.

Yet Bob was unique
To say the least.
So passionate about so many things:
His sport and music –
He played a mean guitar – (especially at Pudsey Bankhouse) -
His women, ale so real, and rugby league;
Clint Eastwood, Moricone…
Recall his cries of joy when “Queen” appeared,
And Clapton.
Not one to suffer injustice,
He never ducked a fight.

So sad to say then,
In “Lord of The Rings” wrung words,
That Bob this week sailed West,
To meet his Maker,
And perhaps, who knows?

Maybe our old friend Brian Hawkhead
Stood waiting there on Heaven’s shore:
All there with golden shining wings.
Yes Brian and Bob were taken far too soon
We think,
Yet who can say?

Perhaps the wider view
Is that
This week
Our Bob
Is Free.

In tribute to Bob Brown (1953 - 2008) .