Ronnie McGinn's Poetry Page

Just before Christmas a friend stopped me in the street and said that Dave Clark had died of lung cancer. A feeling colder that any snow or bitter winter weather, swept through me, I could feel the icy shadow of death on my heart.

Dave was a very much an alive kind of person. The first time I met him was back in 2003, he was then living in Ballintemple and had written a poem called "Good News from London Town" and was a little shy presenting it to anyone.

Within the next year Dave wrote three hundred poems and a number of short stories.

Dave loved to write, but being a natural gentleman he was humble about his creations. In spite of this, many of his poems and short stories found their way into print.

A few years ago he moved to West Cork but always kept in touch. His daughter, Audrey urged him to compile a collection of short stories, which was completed just before he died.

Dave was a big Johnny Cash fan, and somehow I can never think of one without remembering the other.

To his wife Maria, to all his family and to his many friends, on behalf of all our readers and our fellow writers may I extend our deepest and sincerest sympathy.

JOHNNY'S GRAVE

On his grave I cast my eyes
As I stood in the pouring rain,
My mind went wandering thru years
Thru songs of love and pain.

He sang for those in prison
For the lonely and depressed,
He praised the work of Jesus,
In humble Black he dressed.

He captured all our hearts
With his gravel voice so strong,
Told of things that happened
That were never right, but wrong.

I raised my eyes to Heaven
And looked at the evening sky,
And remembered how it all began
'Hey Porter and Cry! Cry! Cry!'

Some years ago he left this world
To a better place he's gone,
Where his Demons can't torment him,
Here; his spirit will live on.

I pray to God your're happy, John
As I gaze up to the moon,
I hear you singing "Ring of Fire"
To your one true love - the lovely June.

© David Martin Clarke