Be Pretty

Be pretty 
Be good to the cat when i die 
For you may not know that i used to lie 
In that place in the sun he loves so much 
When the house was silent and free of mockery 
I used to lie there and plot and scheme 
Till one of us should fall 
It must be me or reading this will mean nothing 
It must be me but know that 
When you lie in that place in the sun 
I will be the sun's fingers 
Caressing your neck 
And your blushing cheeks  

CEG 1995

We arrived at the rock,
A sandstone lip overlooking the town.
Passing round the dying first smoke
We tethered the dog and sat us down.
Torchbulb eyes awe embraced,
The pious view was all our own

Roaches burned out fingers.
Summer's day died and dark
Closed in on my friend
With keystroke in soft sandstone,
He rinted his name to forever,
Etching out his mark.

Three times the leaves have fell since that day,
Twice since CEG himself.
Those words printed for his future
Already invisible.
I searched and searched in funeral grey.
Ended sat alone on stone and stoned alone.

[Old poem originally written in 1997. RIP Colin]

Be Pretty

Be pretty,
Be good to the cat when i die.
You may not know that i used to lie
In that place in the sun he loved so much,
When the house was silent and free of mockery.
I used to lie there and plot and scheme our lives together
Until one of us should fall.
It must be me or reading this will mean nothing.
It must be me but know that
When you lie in that place in the sun,
I will be the sun's fingers soothing you
With our lost love.

[Old poem I wrote years ago and just remembered, thought i'd write it down]