We knew only your laughter which won you renown.
We never observed the tears of our clown.

You entered our homes as the loveable Mork;
with Your razor sharp wit and lightning fast thought.

Your movies mixed laughter with serious turns;
Good Will earned you an Oscar For which many yearn.

There were personal demons that proved hard to hide.
A divorce, an affair, Drugs and rehab besides.

But, through it all, We heard only the laughter.
Not the tears of our Clown that brought on this disaster.

To us you were Robin, Like Peter Pan, just a kid.
May this sleep bring you peace that your days never did.

A widow bird sate mourning for her Love
Upon a wintry bough;
The frozen wind crept on above,
The freezing stream below.

There was no leaf upon the forest bare,
No flower upon the ground,
And little motion in the air
Except the mill-wheel’s sound.

"Once upon a midnight", ghostly,
Partied many, dead ones mostly.
Feasting in the graveyard, sprightly,
Black fanged werewolves gorged, engrossedly.

In the bone yard, drab and squalid,
Apparitions (staring stolid
Neath the veiled moon, clouded lightly),
Sought fresh bodies, lean but solid.

Fiendish eyes shone, light and sparkly,
Ghouls and demons danced, so darkly.
Maggots munching mush unsightly,
Black blood streamed like ink, quite starkly.

Fetid flesh oozed, flowing freely,
Through the crypt doors, cold and steely.
Shadows, ashen, pranced contritely,
Ebon serpents slithered eely.

As it happens, all too often,
Zombies dimly closed the coffin –
Ra, the sun god, rising slightly
Hunger pangs were soon to soften.

If you ask, I’ll tell you blankly,
When you’re feeling dark and dankly
Come to where this happens nightly.
They’ll enjoy the feast, quite frankly...

;-)

Apologies to EAP