Vocabularist

His use of English was exquisite His vocabulary superb He could use the mot juste To make his thoughts reverb, Tousled moppy hair above A big bespectacled grin The sort of warm personality That could really draw folk in. And he swore with such panache, Such flowing verve and style You just couldn't take offence Just had to sit and smile. The intensity of his delivery Varied according to his mood, Unaccentuated for a joke Severe if being rude. And his throaty little chuckle As he looked you in the eye Always eager and ready To meet your reply. A scholar and a gentleman A wit and raconteur A truly gifted exponent of The art of how to swear. We dissected many a word Over many too many a drink Sometimes being so drunk We could barely think A friendship of the past Years later still valued The way we lost touch A fact so sadly rued He was my friend For just a few years And as theses things go He suddenly disappeared. I'm pretty sure he'll be dead After all theses years From far too many ciggies To many shorts too many beers. . My life has been a joy And looking back to the front end He gave me so much pleasure for Those years he was my friend. He gave me his friendship, Made me more aware Of the art of conversation, Of how and when to aptly swear. .