Mead, Trevor James

So you were to be my Godfather, and, I your first Godson,

Had your life been kindly spared when the final victory won.

But you gave up your fight for life by a lonely Burmese lake

And I was robbed of a life-long friend; how hard is that to take.

I`ve constantly walked in the shadow of a man I didn't know,

Someone, who died before I was born-over fifty years ago.

How proud I would have been, to toddle by your side

And look up to your warrior's face but that pleasure was denied.

For when I was a little boy, every man a warrior had been,

With the cares of war deeply etched on every face I`d seen

They called me after you, you know, in tribute to your name;

And to live up to your memory has been the toughest game.

I know I`ve failed you constantly-to be the man you`d been

But try to forgive my failings,for hurt caused I did not mean.

And sometimes when I get it right, a sunbeam bright I see,

Then I know you`re in your watcher`s place smiling down on me.

So while you rest by the Brahmaputra, nearly half a world away

I`ll try hard not to fail you again until the boatman`s mine to pay.