Monday, 26 August 2013


Andrew has odd ways, strange ways,
a boy who’s mostly laughing,
living loud in vibrant days
and often loving, loving.

Singing in delighted tones
twinkling eye to eye,
yielding as the special one
who climbed up there to die

but sensible folk, how could they know
how to see, to be
with Andrew and his runny nose;
a tissue’s ecstasy.

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