He lived his life with courage,
Knowing death had set a date,
Feigning he knew lady luck,
Ignoring his ill fate.
He dared to keep on dreaming,
His heart preferred to fly,
Although his dreaded flesh told him,
That he was doomed to die.
The ones he loved would break his heart,
But he would sigh no sighs,
Neither look nor word would dim,
His ever smiling eyes.
He was a gentle dreamer,
His dreams would soar on wings,
When he put paint to canvas,
Or plucked his guitar strings.
What is my brother’s epitaph?
He kept his face alight,
While life rained blows upon him?
Or his patience with a child?
He had so very little,
Yet claimed his life was grand,
Weaving dreams with star dust,
Building castles in the sand.
The songs my brother sang will be,
Remembered by us all,
We’ll smile a little sadly,
When his life we will recall.
Myra D’souza / 27 August 2008 /
12 October 2010
Reading your poem was like opening a book on brother's biography - well put and beautifully written.
ReplyDeleteYou described Liberard very well in your poem. My prayers are always with him and Sandy.
ReplyDeleteKingsley
the picture completes the poem .. perfection ...
ReplyDeleteI was Liberard's closest friend in Montfort and lost touch for a while. Met him in 2005 briefly when I went to India after many years. He was in my school band. Would love to hear from any of his family. Details of his passing would bring some closure. contact me on carltonvernem@hotmail.com
ReplyDeletewonderful memories will always linger on. God Bless