MARTIN WALSH


 

MARTIN WALSH

 

Of all the places

I could be today

It is here

Where Martin’s spirit lies

Peaceful

Ashleep

And it would be his wish

That all things melancholy

Be left outside

As my mind wanders through weathered leaves

A robin sings

Leaving its song

In a winter branch

Where once again green buds are readying

Martin was wrapped in the cloak of integrity

Is alive with each of us

And we remember him

As he was

A gentle soul

In a sea of doubt and disbelief

The thief of modern life

He was and is for me

A friend

My friend

And always

My friend