It is with the deepest sadness I've felt in years that I inform the Mudcat membership that Smokey has passed on. He went in his sleep, and seemed at ease and at peace.

He was a man of great wit and well-considered humour: a humour with which he could disarm the most ill-felt hatred. He played piano such that one wondered why he had escaped the clutches of fame, but within the arms of which one felt the most wonderful warmth.

Those of you who knew him in real life will have stories to tell. I ask only that you keep his real name undisclosed until such time as his family decides it be disclosed.

Today, I encountered the following song--after two weeks of not exchanging messages or e-mails with Smokey. It will bring tears to your heart, never mind your eyes. It did and does to mine.

Smokey, I loved you then and I love you now.

Bruce

(Across) The Sands of Time

LYRIC ADD

Many are the days I see in your eyes
When winter never ends
Many are the friends that come to my mind
We'll never see again
But you'll come, come back soon
And you'll sing your own special tune


Many are the days I last saw your face
And winter calls to mind
Many are the mem'ries grow like a trace
Across the sands of time.
But you'll come, come back soon
And you'll sing your own special tune