Dear Nicholas, Albert and Michael... I am sorry for your loss. I am not good with words; I hope you can find some comfort from an exerpt of this poem. Robert C. Collyer A Golfer's Prayer What is my fascination with this game? Is it the outdoors â€" the green fairways, the blue skies, the lakes and trees, the feel of the breeze across my face? Is it the friends with whom I play â€" their companionship, their encouragement, the conversation between holes, the silence as we wait our turn? Is it the game â€" the balance between grace and skill and power, the striving for perfection, the loft of the ball, the precision of the putt? Or is it all of these, and in these, meditations about all of life â€" harmony, friendship, balance, and, every once in awhile, the perfect shot.

Dear Nicholas, Albert and Michael... I am sorry for your loss. I am not good with words; I hope you can find some comfort from these exerpts of these poems anyway. Robert C. Collyer The Old Way by Ronald Hopwood There's a wondrous Golden Harbour, far beyond the setting sun, Where a gallant ship may anchor when her fighting days are done, Free from tempest, rock and battle, toil and tumult safely o'er, Where the breezes murmur softly and there's peace for evermore. Sea Fever by John Masefield I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky, And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by. I must go down to the sea again, for the call of the running tide Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow rover, And a quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trips over.