Ebe

EBE

Brother Stephen; no not a monk
known to friends and kin as Ebe
a working man playing the game
of life and joy, and all its dreams.

Just to work, and drink, and enjoy
through its many toils and strife
sometimes can be a weary task
as one travels the path of life.

A night out with many good mates
not knowing what cards fate’s hand holds
shooting the breeze, putting things right
a drink with the lads and grow old.

Some will survive the demon fix
some destined to behold its curse
to just go home and sleep it off
or suffer its fate much worse.

The cards all dealt, a hand so cruel
life has no favourites, a random choice
Ebe lost the game, thrown in his hand
drink finally took away his voice.

The coffin takes its solemn ride
along the winding road
to Ebe’s final resting place
and people’s hearts heavy load.

Family and friends bid farewell
through tears, broken hearts, and gloom
a feeling of foreboding grips
as everyone exits the room

But then a glint of calm abounds
Ebe’s at rest and free from pain
goodbye, I know the day will come
When all will meet again.

D marsden