For Paul

In back of my Spanish garden there’s a stool
Below where the leaves of several trees conjoin, and conspire to keep it cool
It’s Michael’s secret garden, beneath the eucalyptus tree
It’s where I raise a glass to help Paul’s spirit to be free

It hasn’t always been an easy thing to have Paul Mansfield as a friend,
His lonely inner fear of folk was with him ‘til the end…
…No, not so, not so, not to the very last
He opened like a late spring flower,
One sure the winter’s past...

I wish that I had seen that side of such a complex soul
Some years before my verdict swore
He’s no part of my goal;
it was truth he spoke
When our vessel broke
"One day you’ll see me whole"

Beneath the eucalyptus tree I fell into a trance
And images of bygone scenes before me ‘gan to dance
Sometimes a word, sometimes a phrase sometimes it was a face,
And then it was a person’s voice and then some other place.
Two Taylors, Joe and James both said you’ve got a friend,
May you never lay your head down, we teach old hearts to mend.
Tony gave a pint of blood; Lenny gave us litres; Tommy gave a cup of mud…watch the parking meters.
The Goldstone was our home from home, Woodies was our haven, and
We always had a hand to hold although our nights were craven

‘The little bird…’, said Candido; ‘La di dah’ said Jim, ‘The English Maurice’, another
Dad said ‘You two’ve got it made’; John said, ‘He’s my brother’.


You said she was your Jersey Girl
No question, she’s a Giver
Two Drifters off to see the world
So long Paul…

Moon River!!