Dad loved reading us and his grandchildren tragic poems of a melancholy nature. Here’s one that Claire and I both remember him reading us when we were little, brought home by the mysterious and deceptive tides along the Norfolk coast: ‘The Sands of Dee’ by Charles Kingsley O Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, Across the sands of Dee. The western wind was wild and dark with foam, And all alone went she. The western tide crept up along the sand, And o'er and o'er the sand, And round and round the sand, As far as eye could see. The rolling mist came down and hid the land: And never home came she. O is it weed, or fish, or floating hair- A tress of golden hair, A drownèd maiden's hair, Above the nets at sea?' Was never salmon yet that shone so fair Among the stakes of Dee. They row'd her in across the rolling foam, The cruel crawling foam, The cruel hungry foam, To her grave beside the sea. But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home, Across the sands of Dee.

‘He is gone’ by David Harkins You can shed tears that he is gone Or you can smile because he has lived You can close your eyes and pray that he will come back Or you can open your eyes and see all that he has left Your heart can be empty because you can't see him Or you can be full of the love that you shared You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday Or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday You can remember him and only that he is gone Or you can cherish his memory and let it live on You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back Or you can do what he would want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Thank you for setting up this memorial to Graham. We hope that you find it a positive experience developing the site and that it becomes a place of comfort and inspiration for you to visit whenever you want or need to.