He was a man of few words, never a complainer
Life was at full speed, he was not an abstainer
He sang lustfully in the shower, but he was no crooner
Ask him to dinner at eight, and he might show up sooner
When he did arrive it was usually with great hunger.
Among his siblings he became a coparcener
Invested all he had to become a gardener
For the down trodden he became a campaigner
He was always comfortable in the role of the commoner
His smile lit up the room, he was a real grinner.
He hailed from Ireland, and was proud to be a Dubliner
It would be a mistake to ask him if he was a Londoner
He took up pugilism to see if he could be a little meaner
When he took a solid shot to the jaw he felt like a stoner
In pain and humiliation he slowly crawled back to his corner.
Tim D Culey -2013-
