You’ve left us in a world that’s ugly and cold
Filled with pain that won’t be assuaged.
Alone in a place with no compassion or grace,
We wait for your sons to come of age.

Our only hope of ever seeing you again
Is hidden deep in William’s smile.
Perhaps he can share all the love that we bear
And make all the sorrow worthwhile.

The profiteers have crawled out of the woodwork-
They infest every conceivable nook.
Hawking Diana-clothes and Queen-of-Hearts prose
Their avarice bleats everywhere you might look.

Am I any different, wanting my words
And those of my peers to be placed on your grave.
As I yield to the tears that will haunt me for years
I mustn’t be one taking more than you gave.

It’s curious watching what was known would occur
Actually unfolding before our eyes.
Any piece of the action gives such satisfaction
That we become subjects to drama and lies.

But we turn our backs on the items they sell
And refuse to play ball with the vultures
Who will not go away thought we weep with dismay
And wonder what happened to culture.

All the words from our pens are no match for our loss
And cannot diminish our sadness
As we plod through the days stretching into the haze,
Searching for some bit of sustainable gladness.

How can you possibly be not in our world?
What’s to become of us now that you’re gone?
Where are we, after the loss of our laughter
And how will we manage to just carry on.

We need your feeling, your beauty, and soul.
We need to share in your living.
You made us better by breaking the fetter
That taught us the value of compassionate giving,

You were the teacher and we avid pupils.
Sometimes we were slow, but eventually learned
That life is for caring and happiness-sharing -
Gifts received are greater returned.

You were the gift of the twentieth century
To a world undeserving of such
With red, weeping eyes, that world now decries
The loss of your magical touch.
ljm