Epitaph For A Healer: For Dr.J.D.Gomersall Poem by Sheena Blackhall

God only likes nice girls and tidy boys,
But you sat down with me, un-nice, no-good
In a way that nobody's parents ever would.

Safe, to say the unsayable in that room,
And oh the relief of dropping all pretences,
Raising the drawbridge, lowering the defences!

Now I would walk through living coals to take
Your hand in mine, kind ghost, for pity's sake
Actions, more than epithets can tell
You were a man who loved his fellows well
Who'd guide them back from Misery's abyss
To sweeter vistas, pin-stripe Theseus.