They're many, strange, and varied
The things that make me cry.
Rarely in a flood of tears;
A tickle in my eye
Is quite enough to realise
My emotions have been stirred,
A memory of grief or joy,
A single, hope-filled word.
Recollections of a special time,
Or dear departed friend;
Love or grief - or both combined
Is quite enough to send
Those feelings - sadness or of joy
To rise unbidden, unexpected:
Overpowering feelings
From memories resurrected.
A lesser, unimportant thing
May open my tear ducts:
My football team's achievements,
Such as when we won the cup;
Or a local lad being given,
With only minutes remaining,
The captain's armband - oh, the pride
In him that is sustaining.
Chris Humble
