He wore glasses, rarely goggles.
His iconic phrase was surely, “the mind boggles.”
He was a father, a brother,
A Morris Minor loving punter.
He once owned an Audi, a Merc, and a Porsche.
Some of my friends would say, he even had ‘the force.’
He was a tinker, some ways a tailor,
He loved movies with soldiers and spies.
He loved museums, mainly the Ulster,
Chasing his children round Botanic would probably leave him in a fluster.
When he married a beautiful woman called, Shirley,
Kids called Patrick, Katy, Andrew and Hannah were to follow shortly.
He’d drink a fine wine, a port, a shandy, cite off one of his speeches,
And once all is said and done he’d shout: “We’ll fight them on the beaches!”
Music you say? Beware, you’ll be there all day,
Though with such wonderful company I know you’ll be glad you stayed.
So I ask you to join me, in these friendships we’ve forged,
To celebrate the life of a man called, George.