
The Language of Us
Doris Falidis-Nickolas’ poetry beautifully captures love, loss, and remembrance, offering comfort to those navigating grief.
Willie Joseph Prior (Monty) 22.6.1922 – 13.8.2007 He was a fi ne black gentleman Dressed to the max Wearing a starched shirt And trousers dry cleaned Cobra hat on head and polished black shoes He'd stand out in a crowd Our Mum used to grumble "Can't take your father anywhere" His cheeky grin would say it all He was always polite "How you going mate" or "How you going codja" Few undermined this fi ne black gentleman His claim to fame was the boxing ring Most folk new of his sledge hammer left His legend remembered by many around When we were young we will always remember Dad at the door just before supper Covered in cement from head to toe He'd sling us his lunch box And all hell would brake loose Your wife Doris and family and all your grannies
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