Written for Sue who lost her older brother, Andrew, a year ago.

Andrew

When they were children they knew they were in luck,

Three brothers and a sister, together they stuck.

Holidays in Filey, playing by the sea,

In their bungalow, happy and free.

Spent every weekend from Spring Bank then summer,

All of the six weeks, watching the new comer.

Weren’t the summers much longer then?

And didn’t the sun shine from 7 ’til 10?

Four siblings together, they just stuck together,

Crazy golf and running, come whatever.

Not just family but great friends as well,

Watching on that’s what their parents could tell.

Every day their mum would arrange something new,

Their favourite by far was the beach through and through.

Paddling in the North Sea, digging in sand,

Playing cricket, wasn’t life so grand?

Searching in rock pools, Andrew and Michael taking charge,

Building sand castles and holes ever so large.

Trying to direct the sea so it went the right way,

Four little children having a wonderful day.

There were heated discussions from the two older lads,

Which civil engineering fete was one of their fads.

Which would work best to keep the sea in control?

Serious matters, important…drum roll.

Sue and Jonathan would just watch as they’d bicker,

Worrying about which tactic was quicker.

Or they’d wander off and find a new game,

Not really caring who lost, causing shame.

Hunmanby, one day they all set off to see,

Their mum thought two miles was easy by degree.

Andrew was not happy about this epic hike,

He started to behaved like a right little tyke.

At one point he started his own sit in protest,

Sitting on the grass verge in his own little ants’ nest.

Well they all found it funny and hilarity ensued,

While Andrew boiled and his temper brewed.

As adults they all went their separate ways,

Geography and families were now a new phase.

But they all got together and met from time to time,

Their special bond still loving and sublime.

In no time at all the dynamics were back,

Recalling their childhood, going back in track.

Behaving like kids all over again,

Shall they go off and make a new den?

Friendly banter between Michael and Andrew,

Who can cycle? Well Jonathan he knew.

Their lack of prowess was all plain to see,

Cuts and bruises on the older two’s knee.

Sue would watch on, thinking of times in their past,

Directing the sea with flags at half mast.

But Andrew then left them, and tragedy fell,

Only past times together, no new ones to tell.

One year ago they had to say goodbye,

Andrew now directing the great sea in the sky.

If anyone happens upon Filey beach,

Listen acutely because you may reach

The sight of a windbreak on the Coble Landing,

With four little children playing and standing,

Then hunched against the breeze, a new dig to begin,

Another game of cricket or they might go for a swim.

Running as fast as they possibly can,

Because they were the ever so famous Wood clan.

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