June 12, 2015

 

 

Loving Minnie Riperton was easy.

This perfect angel touched the heart.

Her hit so hauntingly beautiful;

all too soon did she depart.

 

One of the original Supremes,

Florence, destined not to grow old:

But a part of Motown’s hit machine,

with songs of pure gold.

 

War! – What is it good for?

asked Edwin, who then gave his reply.

‘Absolutely nothing’, he soulfully cried out,

then settled in the UK, until his goodbye.

 

Heinz strummed just like Eddie,

taking to the stage alone,

This clean-cut tornado of a singer,

made the song his very own.

 

Mary was sticking to her guy,

like a stamp to a letter:

Her hit strong enough to make sure,

we would never forget her.

 

Ginger Baker, was another,

who lived and breathed his art.

The undisputed cream of drummers,

who we keep very close at heart.

 

Bobby – The Womack legend:

His name synonymous to those,

who know their music well:

This soul man, sweet as any rose.

 

Nick Drake, from deepest Warwickshire,

with three albums to his name,

has now at last deservedly,

though posthumously, found fame.

 

Joe Cocker’s famous gritty growl,

let us know he was on stage.

Yet another of Sheffield’s finest,

helped us release our pent up rage.

 

Ronnie ‘plonk’ Lane of the Faces;

a lovely guy who suffered long:

Happy memories of them touring,

when the band was in full song.

 

Monday Monday, surely destined,

never to be the same,

without the joyous laughter,

from Cassie’s sassy frame.

 

Last of the Big Band Leaders;

James’ party was non-stop.

Such pleasure he gave to millions,

with jazz right through to pop.

 

So many more were taken,

so many, I could name.

It comes with liabilities,

this fickle game of fame.

 

So many idols lost;

sudden death hard to digest.

Their music, their legacy;

our gain at their bequest.

———–

To hear this poem read live

tune in to 

Tonys Time Machine – LDOK.net  

on

Wednesday 1st July

11.00am  to 1pm

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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