10-14-2023, 02:17 PM
A Good Man – John Lyons
An example of a good man
who meant a lot to me.
He never thought he was precious
when he was running by the sea.
I knew John from the Spartans,
he treated things as a joke.
Funny remarks during marathons,
when we were ready to croak.
He was fun on St Patrick’s Day,
at a party, guitars we’d strum.
We worked hard on a silly dance,
that ended kicking our partner's bum.
We lost him a few years ago,
a good man everyone liked.
A friendly, warm and decent soul,
who stopped running and bought a bike.
John was one of my friends
we’d greet each other with laughter.
We would talk about the last race
and the banter would get dafter.
Saw John week before he died
at the café, in Hospice shirt.
raising money for research,
and I told him to be alert.
He lost his life in Ecuador,
Cycling on a charity ride.
He was killed by a speeding truck,
which drove on and he died.
He was no superstar or hero
but a funny, decent man.
Warm, kind and popular,
a life cut short by that van.
He was a caring hospital porter
who made every patient laugh.
He loved his work on the trolleys,
the most popular member of staff.
To mark a year since his passing
we cycled to his home near Cork.
The mayor welcomed us warmly,
and town's folk had day off work.
An example of a good man
who meant a lot to me.
He never thought he was precious
when he was running by the sea.
I knew John from the Spartans,
he treated things as a joke.
Funny remarks during marathons,
when we were ready to croak.
He was fun on St Patrick’s Day,
at a party, guitars we’d strum.
We worked hard on a silly dance,
that ended kicking our partner's bum.
We lost him a few years ago,
a good man everyone liked.
A friendly, warm and decent soul,
who stopped running and bought a bike.
John was one of my friends
we’d greet each other with laughter.
We would talk about the last race
and the banter would get dafter.
Saw John week before he died
at the café, in Hospice shirt.
raising money for research,
and I told him to be alert.
He lost his life in Ecuador,
Cycling on a charity ride.
He was killed by a speeding truck,
which drove on and he died.
He was no superstar or hero
but a funny, decent man.
Warm, kind and popular,
a life cut short by that van.
He was a caring hospital porter
who made every patient laugh.
He loved his work on the trolleys,
the most popular member of staff.
To mark a year since his passing
we cycled to his home near Cork.
The mayor welcomed us warmly,
and town's folk had day off work.
