One Last Quest for Solace

Inspired by Wystan Hugh Auden’s Funeral Blues, I wrote this piece on the passing of my late Father-In-law. He admired Auden’s work and this is my take on one of his most accomplished of works. I hope you enjoy.

One Last Quest for Solace

He longed for a sanctuary in the South-West,

Maybe Bude? By the Neet where the choughs come to nest.

Where the Sultans of Swing play out over the cove

Where loved ones and family can gather in droves.

Where inanimate objects can’t get in his way;

Where brandy and Espresso can be served all day.

Where if he gets lost do not worry my friend

Just follow the trail of tapped-up dog-ends.

Knowledgeable and wise, he made his own tea,

He bought his own shirts as you can probably see!

In league with the likes of Darwin and Kant

His mind was a gift and his love never scant.

Found blazon in golf jacket, socks and long-johns

Wearing two pairs of glasses, it hadn’t been long.

An hour at most, a man’s last quest for solace

Premature maybe but finally promised.

He longed for a sanctuary in the South-West,

Maybe Bude? By the Neet, where the choughs come to nest.

He was our North, our South, our East and our West,

Now the clock has stopped; in peace may he rest.

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