To A Friend

Cool and slick, all ease is his gait. Hard
For men and women to appreciate
A man when he fails, but the cool hand bard
Is able to hide his ails and put fate
Behind his back. Strange tales he tells, while lard
Slips down the gullets that do contemplate
His quips concerning drunken sailors. Ward,
That be his name, yes that be he; first mate
Of the Capitol Danny Fee that's shored
Up in the Aegean Sea! Some do hate
To see a man so liked at table, board
Up their hearts to decency; second rate
Is their smile, their grin is grim as a sword
That's been unsheathed before a fight. A spate
Be sure to ensue since the door is ate
Up by their presence, their girth. Yet a ford
Is easily waded by those that slate
For themselves provision; and such a guard
Does mister Ward always have on hand, bait
By which he may turn his foes. He, unmarred,
Exits the building as water a grate,
His enemies none the wiser. A card
Up his sleeve he always has. But the yard
Is cold now, the silvery moon is late
To rise, and the sun is long gone. A chord
Of music is heard from the throng. Such bait
Can hardly be ignored by one who’s gored
By interior sorrows that are stored
Away, untended in the light of day.
There in the freedom of man’s company
Is another man capable to see
That he’s not lonely when he has his friends.
In such company all sorrow, pain, mends.

And so I wish you a happy day,
Wherever you are, on whatever way.
I hope you enjoyed this poem of mine;
But if you didn’t, well, that’s all fine!
May your style never grow slack with dis-ease,
May you always know just how to please
The heart of your audience with a treat;
Of healing laughter, now that were a feat
Only a few have managed in this world!
May you be then, laughter’s Herald.
And when in need of laughter yourself,
Don’t forget that an actors wealth
Is found in the friendships that he makes
Within the world he lives in. He so takes
To both make believe and reality
That he is truly happy, and truly free.
That is my prayer for you good friend.
Good day to you, good night. The end.

                   To A Friend, (c) Luke Bennette, November 2012