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The echoing sound of seagulls
Flying above the sea
And leaves upon their branches
Such a wonderful harmony.

Nature's inspiration was it
The reason for his call
From a humble shepherd on the land
To packing out town halls.

Music there within his soul
And words inside his head
Singing was his only goal
His future, good as read.

He sang his songs every day
He was asked to join a choir
Little did he realise
His fame would grow much higher.

He made a massive impact
Wherever he would go
Although he never wrote a song
His voice would steal the show.

He found himself a little band
They became like family
He treated them like brothers
The way that it should be.

Suddenly his fame was over
The result of a tragedy
Sadly he left us
Leaving behind his legacy.
A simple poem is like a caterpillar
On a leaf.

The poem starts growing
Until a butterfly is complete.

Then bright coloured wings take to flight
All God's work for our delight.

— The End —