I find your neckties moving round  our home
One was in the bathroom just today
They  share  your   dear proclivity to roam

I may get paranoia, I am lame
But now I like to be  a  child and play
Are these your neckties flying round  our home

Oh, all the voices I  heard knew my name
They love me very much , they need not say.
We all  your  sweet activities declaim.

 

Which ancient people  got the gift  of rhyme?
Did song  come first  and then the need for prayer?
Are  your neckties  going   on to Rome?

 

Whatever art we   make has inbuilt time
How  tenderly  he  brushed my  rippling hair
Till craft had become art in this  our home

 

Last of all  you smiled and   soared away
Like a  small wild bird, oh  song of care
I found your neckties  haunting as I mourned
Whether new or old, pressed flat or torn

 

he