He Still Lives On Poem by Anna Andrews

He took me beneath his wing
Took me in as his own,
Stood beside me often
When I was standing alone.

He rode with a hundred soldiers
And stood with gentleman,
He shone like silver charms
And humoured like a comedian.

He sat with great knowledge
Like those held in binds,
His mind was overwhelming
As you hear it unwind.

The greatest gift he gave
Was the goodness of his heart
No issue was too small
To place upon his cart.

When he walked with pride
A great man was he
But he did not like to walk
For all those to see.

Now sadly the tears fall
From the eyes that weep for him,
As he walks a path for angels
Embracing the lords hymn

I cannot face farewell
For it’s too final for me,
I believe he's still living
And holding my memory.


© Copyright Anna Andrews 2010

R.I.P Papa Joe