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On The Sixteenth Day Of August
On the sixteenth day of August
Came a newsflash on tv,
'The King of rock and roll has died
In Memphis Tennessee',
The cause of death his kindly heart
So generous and true,
His life cut short within his prime
At only forty two.
As thousands gathered at the gates
Of Graceland they did cry,
In disbelief and horror for
He was too young to die,
They prayed and then lit candles there
The flames did burn so bright,
And glistened like the stars above
And shone throughout the night.
They sang his songs together
And his music filled the air,
They knew that he was with them
As they felt his presence there,
The people stayed and would not leave
And still their tears did flow,
I shan't forget that August day
So many years ago.
poem
by
Andrew Blakemore
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