Sunset and evening star,
And one clear call for me!
“I like to think of him whizzing around the Pyrenees on a motorbike.”
And may there be no moaning of the bar,
When I put out to sea,
“He was in that film with Charlton Heston. For a second.”
But such a tide as moving seems asleep,
Too full for sound and foam,
“He was a master of the invective form… okay, sometimes a bit cantankerous.”
When that which drew from out the boundless deep
Turns again home.
“He was a Marxist and I a Tory. We had some great debates. But always friendly.”
Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark.
“I’m his sister. I didn’t know him. But I remember funny poems when I was 9 or 10.”
And may there be no sadness or farewell,
When I embark;
“He was just a really good companion. A companion, that’s it.”
“For tho’ from out bourne of Time and Place
The flood may bear me far,
I hope to see my Pilot face to face
When I have crossed the bar.
It was very sad because I had to leave him.”