"Remembering Chris Rea," by Tony Dawson

Despite years of ill-health, this jongleur
of the north with his mesmerising
guitar-playing and relaxed singing
captivated us for fifty years.
Just before Christmas, the troubadour
of Fool if you think it’s over, passed away.
It was as if the old Police Morris Minor
he drove had come to a juddering halt
while he was driving home for Christmas.
The Stainsby girls are bound to miss him,
as will millions of his fans.
Thanks to his twenty-five albums,
we can still hear his soothing baritone
but not his heartbeat anymore.
A good man, he won’t be on the road to Hell
although the curse of the traveller
is that his journey must eventually end…
if the hereafter turns out to exist
Chris Rea will surely be there,
on the beach.