Our Richards eyes are nothing like the sun,
but even one with luminous eyes
could not shed light on writers and make fun.
And, doubt others could tell better lies.
You taught us of poets and playwrights fair
on the road towards our paradise lost.
Inspired us with Blake and Baudelaire
and for years you were our favorite host.
                Where art thou, babe, and where dost thou depart,
                we thank you Richard for your giant heart.



With Iambic pentameter I try
to capture your spirit, within a verse.
A troublesome task and I must ask why
did Chaucer set the form and make it worse?
Please teacher, take from this no insult,
the poet means your spirit ‘is filled with glee.
But if the verse be flawed, mine is the fault,
by no means perfect but from us to thee
                Kneel Sir Richard! do so at your leisure.
                We would dub thee king, it would be our pleasure.