' Our Ron '
Poem By Gordon Whittaker
Ron, you were to me all a brother could be,
your friendship and memory will always be a part of me. The happy days we spent together are gone, forever lost in time,
but the memories will linger, they will always be mine.
When I was young you used to take me to the flicks, on our way home you would buy me fish and chips, and Ron the times you fixed my tie for school
the result always made me feel so cool
I swaggered off to school with my tie in full view
for no-one could tie a windsor knot like you.
Those times are imprinted on my mind, no-one can take them away
they are here with me to stay.
I would point you out with pride,
when you played soccer at the Sunnyside,
whether you lost or won,
I would proudly say: ' that's our Ron. '
You taught me how to ride a bike, and how to drive a car
we went down the motorways to places near and far.
I was over the moon when I passed my driving test first time
and it was all down to you Ron, that brilliant teacher of mine.
I can see us now on Lanky canal, fishing in atrocious weather
and later that same morning, sharing a fry up together.
For me it was a life of bliss,
even though you caught all the fish.
I can imagine you there, you seemed so content
To me those were perfect days, well spent.
I remember the times I came to AP,
just to keep you company.
I would accompany you silently on your rounds,
listening out for unfamiliar sounds.
Then to your office for another a cup of tea,
back to the banter and the goodhearted repartee.
I listened intently as your stories unfurled,
Hey Ron, I would, nt have missed it for the world.
If I could talk to Saint Peter and ask ''did our Ron pass this way.''
I, m sure his answer would be, '' He will be fishing at this time of day
and relating his story about the one that got away''