A Biker's Funeral Poem by Pete Crowther
A Biker's Funeral
(In memory of Stephen (Reggie) Pearce
of Kilnsea,1980–2005)
The wind blows cold through the churchyard trees
and sadly tolls the passing bell
as mourners shuffle up the leaf-strewn
narrow path between the leaning stones.
He was just twenty-five, so young,
so full of life, and love of life
and laughter — killed outright one night
in a head-on crash on his motorbike.
From far and wide we’ve gathered here
to pay respect to our young friend.
I’ve never seen the church so full,
oh death, how can you be so cruel?
Who will forget this funeral?
Four hundred strong in the nave we stood,
family and friends both young and old
and a phalanx of bikers in leathers and boots.
Between the holy platitudes
and hymns they played his favourite songs;
one had to smile to hear within
that ancient august church of stone
come belting out the vibrant tones
of modern rock and heavy metal.
Who can forget the coffin passing
in procession like a royal barque,
the biker’s helmet on its lid
resplendent in heraldic tones
— rich gules, azure, argent, or,
a shining light of knightly splendour?
Who will forget that send-off from
his fellow bikers when three score
or more bright gleaming motorcycles
with a thunderous roar led off the hearse?
Wow! I can smell the engines and hear the echos of music still ringing in my ears.... very simply phrased and beautiful.
Outstanding Peter not only the detail but the images produced, as a biker myself for over fifty years, I know what this is like as I have attended more then a few myself, a pleasure to read though. Regards Graham.
I had a dear cousin, a biker through and through. When he died at a very young age, we were all heartbroken. Two things stand out - the sound of the motorcade of bikers to his funeral, and the fact that when it came time to close the grave, as the back hoe moved in to do it, the bikers stopped the backhoe, picked up shovels, and closed his grave. How sweet a service for a dear friend and fellow biker. This poem really touched my heart. Linda
Peter- Your described everything so well. I could picture the whole thing. The title caught my attention. My dad rides a harley, and he told me about some people he knew that died in a bike crash. Mostly when larger vehicles don't see or hear them. Its so sad when you hear or read about it happening. Great poem, Trina Elam
A very sorrowful occasion elegantly penned in beautiful poetic diction, to vividly recreate the ceremony in readers minds. Death is a very bad reaper often going after unripe fruits. But then, dust to dust is a must. A lovely poem bristling with emotion. Thanks for sharing. Please read my poem MANDELA - THE IMMORTAL ICON.
this is beautiful. and this will live forever like your memories. well done. x
This person must have been such a wonderful soul that attracts many to bid the final farewell. Wonderful elegy. I feel I too missed him a lot, whoever he is. God bless.
What a lovely ode to one who died so young. Sounds like this guy was very dearly thought of and loved. It's good to preserve those thoughts in a poem. HG xx
Fully descriptive to were you could feel the vibrations from the engines as the rumbled. Great write Patricia
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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11/27/2023 4:39:00 AM # 1.0.0.1118
It must have been a splendid send off Peter, and your poem is a tribute indeed. Sincerely Ernestine