Passing through

Fight on we legions of frustrated
For the dream, you said, is always there
Walk along the paths you have not gated
For they're the ones you told us are fair 

Your life was but a heartbeat in someone else’s game
For from beginning to end they told you where to go
You have lived in body, spirit and name
And you take with you everything you know

But do not be sad for the way you lived
Do not be bitter or angry about your time ending
For during your moments that you could give
There is nothing in feeling that you've left pending

We think of a world in which you do not exist 
This does not and could not ever seem real
We cry with tears of grief and bang tables with fists
But for those around us we wear a face of steal

Morning breaks to a life with an empty space
Where comfort and foundation stood so proud
Where once I looked with smiles at your loving face 
I told all always, that I loved you, out-loud

What to do now, where to look
Our lives disjointed, torn apart in pain
We must go back and read your book
To remember who you were again and again

We must fight on we legions true
And make the most of the time we have left
We must create and live with the memory of you
Not wallow in sorrow becoming deaf

You gave and gave and then were taken
How can this ever be right or just?
When a better world for us you were making
Now in time, your body will pass to dust

But that dust that our children will shuffle through
Is the very foundation of all they know and love
Whilst your soul travels to skies so rich and blue
To watch over us all from heaven above

By C Merchant


Goodbye little one

As certain as a parent’s love
A child will not forget
As sure as the sun will rise
As sure as it will set
As sure as these are guarantees
So few and far between
The only things you know are real
Are what you’re sure you’ve seen

The love you felt in a moment of time
Was so complete and beyond compare
You know that in ten lifetimes
It would be too much to share
Take this knowledge with you little one
Keep it safe and pure as snow
For the moment’s of love your parents gave
Is something only you, will ever know

By C Merchant


A conversation, with love

“You bugger you!”
Came loud from the chair
“To bloody noisy”
As he fixed his stare!

"You just be nice
They’re getting their tea
I’ve told you twice
I’ll put you over my knee"

"Bah, you silly old wench"
The standard reply
"Put up with you buggers,
Still don’t know why"

"You just behave
And stop showing off
Look you’ve spilt your coffee
I’ll get you a cloth"

"Clean it up then
Tis woman’s work"
"Clean it yourself 
You grumpy old berk"

To which you would here,
A laugh so loud
Followed by "thank you my dear"
And - “you’re welcome old man!”

With smiles and love
Conversations were had
Insults were thrown
Never meant to be bad

He smiled as he watched
The Armies of Dad’s
And howled at Max Bygraves
Talking women and lad’s

Family we were
Family we are
From our hearts Old man
You’ll never be far

He laughed as he swore
With volume and fun
Even when he was sore
He still thanked everyone

Our dearest Old man
Leaves an irreplaceable hole
As he takes his journey
To his eternal home

By C Merchant



(Used for Rememberance Sunday on BBC Radio)

To Dance With Angels

Heroes all who lead and follow
Into worlds where death does tread
Climbing high or crouched in hollow
Primed with orders clearly said

Senses ready, droplets on chin
Enemy sighted, eyes fixed on prey
Dark men walking, talking, thin
Stumbling into deadly fray

A whisper, a nod, bullet flies
Standing proud for better aim
Cracks of fire fill the sky
It has begun, this awful game

Quiet moment, silence so loud
Panting, blood rushing so fast
Staring intently at lying crowd
Dead or not, check to the last

Sudden thoughts of friends not foe
The call goes out 'is everyone there'?
Stop and hope, does anyone know?
Where are those men whose lives I share?

Words of fear, medic called
Who is down, what damage done?
Two lie still by others walled
My life, my world, my brothers gone

Letters written with no reprieve
The end is real, last breath taken
Cries of pain as families seethe
Why was ours the one forsaken?

Friends fallen, men of honour
Worshipped by those left free
Carried high, their finest hour
Sense, the families cannot see

With all vigour and courage they went
Ready to battle at moment’s glance
Returned, carried, all life spent
With smiling angels, now to dance

Forgetting them will never be an option
Our lives entwined by brutal deed
Matters not, real or political concoction
Know they gave life, so we may be free

By C Merchant