A Sonnet for Jake


Jake Thackray
Died 24th December 2002.

 Peer, philanderer, villain and his whore,
Wimpled, whiskered Sister on the lam,
Forgotten Molly, singing on her moor,
The dog, the cock, the Swan, the Swaledale ram.

A primate, novice in the arts of love,
The Captain and his vitriolic wife,
Great leaders raining bullshit from above,
You wrapped them in your songs and gave them life.

Listening now, we smile to see our woe,
Our drives and torments, frailty and fear
Held gently in your open hand, and know
The sins that make us mortal, made us dear;

And find we love ourselves and others more
Because of - not despite - each human flaw.

Sarah Willans

Sarah writes:
It's sad that Jake was so inexplicably underrated as a poet and lyricist.He was an honest, compassionate, uncompromising, phenomenally talented man,and it's a great irony and shame that his death came just as people were starting to take notice of his work again.As Jake's hero, Georges Brassens, once said after the death of a friend - 'If I'd known how much I loved him, I would have loved him more'.  

All sorts of information, including most of his lyrics and his translations of several Brassens songs, plus a bulletin board - www.jakethackray.com  

Photo © Acorn Entertainments

If you've any comments on this poem, Sarah Willans would be pleased to hear from you.

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