Bildekor

Poems read in celebration of Nick's life

Instructions: Several poems were read aloud during the evening. To add a poem, click edit page, above. The password is 'morris'. Insert your cursor where you want to put begin typing, and type as you normally would. When you're done, hit that SAVE button, below.

This poem was written by Dave Smith who is a long-time friend of Frances (an inventor, author, and cabinet-maker). Dave is helping Terry and Frances winterize Toad Hall--the lovely old growth forest and 1700's stone cottage near Allentown where Nick had planned to live and where some of his ashes will be scattered. Terry placed this poem on one of the tables displaying Nick's interesting creations:

Nick of time

I got to know a man

But, after his life had past

I walked where he once stepped

And stood where his shadow was cast

The things I felt he touched

And I was seeing what he already saw

But these were only things

And not who he was at all

For those who wish to know

His all is free to share

Given in love by those he loved

And treasured with great care

For the life he had once lived

Still to this day survive

It’s in every breath that speaks his name

And keeps his memory alive.

Some things we may never know

And less we’ll understand

But the spirit is love and this is how

I got to know this man.

Dave Smith

Abbotstown, PA

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The following poem was read aloud by Nick's brother, Lindsey, at the Memorial Celebration.

(Do not stand at my grave and weep)

-attributed to Mary Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

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The following poem was read by Terry's sister, Sheila, included in a longer statement, on Terry's behalf.

(She said she changed a few words, but here is the original poem.)

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone

- W. H. Auden adapted by Sheila Willis and Terry Robertshaw

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,

Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,

Silence the pianos and with muffled drum

Bring out the memories, all his loved ones.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead

Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,

Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,

Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.

For nothing right now can come to good.

However, we shall see stars again,

And although they will never be the same,

The time will come when we can look up

And think of how much Nicky loved life and all it's adventures.

Nicky,

We shall have such adventures with Terry and Thomas

And we shall laugh

And we shall be merry again

Just not tonight...

But we will,

Nicky

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