Pops Bright Star

Pops Bright Star


There's a star to the west,
In our great Aussie sky,
That we look at with wonder,
And wish we could fly.

We all still remember,
As if, just yesterday,
The day our dear Lord,
Came and took him away.

To the clouds and beyond,
His spirit did soar,
To meet up with loved ones,
And friends from before.

Our small children,
Aged then, just three and five,
"How do we explain,
Pops no longer alive?"

So outside we did go,
On that clear, starry night,
To find this great star,
So shiny and bright.

"See that big star,"
we said to our kids,
"That's where, with Santa,
Your Pop he now lives."

Up on the star,
They are making the toys,
Grandma Dot's there too,
Keeping an eye on those boys.

When Christmas rolls round,
A gift, sits under our tree,
From Santa, Pop and Grandma Dot,
With love, from all three.

Now they've made up songs,
About Pops bright star,
And how they still love him,
Down here, from afar.

It's been over three years now,
And still before sleep,
I hear their little voices,
And try not to weep.

They have few memories,
But stories, they are told,
Pictures, they are given,
To look at and hold.

They say they have seen him,
Of their dreams, they do tell,
How Pops looking over them,
And Grandma as well.

They have come to understand,
That death is for all,
And one day for everyone,
God puts in his call.

Our beloved dog Angel,
Two weeks ago, got her call,
"Now she's with Pop Mum,"
"Do you think he'll throw her a ball?"

There is a star,
In our great western sky,
We wish we could go there,
If only we could fly.


For Douglas Graham (1940-2004)