John William Goyen

The more you give, the more you get
The more you laugh, the less you fret

The more you do unselfishly
The more you do abundantly

The more of everything you share
The more you'll always have to spare

The more you love, the more you'll find
That life is good and friends are kind

For only what we give away
Enriches us from day to day

found in the "important" folder on Jack's computer

When people's cars get old and worn
And they begin to toddle
They go somewhere and trade them in
And get the latest model

Now I have often thought
That when my joints get achy
And when my hair has all turned grey
And my knees are very shaky

And when the onward march of time
Has left me rather feeble
How nice it would be to find a firm
That deals in worn out people

And when my form is bent with age
And gets to looking shoddy
How nice it would be to turn it in
And get a brand new body

found in the "important" folder on Jack's computer

Come, dry your tears, smile again, Love,
I'm only a whisper away,
Near in the dusk of the evening,
Just out of sight through the day.

Watching you waking and sleeping,
Hearing each prayer that you pray,
Sending my love to surround you,
I'm only a whisper away.

Come, dry your tears, smile again, Love,
Remember the good times we've known,
Cherish the joy we discovered -
Love that was planted and grown.

Your road may seem lonely ahead,
And distant horizons look grey,
You won't be walking alone, dear,
I'm only a whisper away.

found in the "important" folder on Jack's computer

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffles drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message 'He Is Dead'.
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun,
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

read by Judy at Jack's Funeral