He was a man of wisdom and grace
a man with a pint full of panic
He was a man who tried to change place
but never managed to stand up
His was a toolbox of softness and love
His was a saddle of sighs
He rode to the west
on a dream-box of battles
coveting only to fly
He had a soul of whispers and whimsies
and putting the rest in a hole
He drove a dream-pike
to sit at the turn-pike
where everyone told him to go
He favoured sweet cakes
and jelly wrapped oat cakes
and fabulous rolls made of soul
His was a life of modest and kindness
and saddlebags empty of gold