Poet Terry's real name was Terry Emmins, he was
also known as Poet Emmo
at his other online poetry site. Terry was born on May 24, 1938, he lived and worked
in the transportation, catering and retail trade industries for most of his life in Essex, England. He
loved to visit Canada, which is where I met him. He wanted to emigrate to
this country, but his health problems prevented this from happening. I
became acquainted with his love of poetry and read some of the works which
he had written. I agreed to set up a couple of web sites for him, so that
he might share his poems with the rest of the World, and perhaps bring
comfort, joy and understanding to other citizens of Planet Earth.
Terry's other interests, beside writing poetry, were traveling, country
and western music, and working with his hands, mostly making things from
wood. He accumulated many woodworking machines, and would spend hours
making bird houses and garden furniture when his health permitted. Terry
will be missed by many people, but he will live on through his poetry. I
will maintain his two web sites and keep them running in his memory.
Alan - Webmaster for the Poet Emmo and
Terry web sites.
Well here you go itís number two son,
You know the one,
The pain in the bum,
Lee. Yeah thatís the one.
The one you knew so well,
But the one that put you through hell.
You stuck by me through thick and thin,
We were both stubborn, we wouldnít give in.
Near seven years have almost gone,
For me to think that Iíve been wrong.
I wish I could have been there, when you went away,
I should have been there on that sad day.
Your son forever,
Being the eldest son (David) of the late Poet Emmo (Terry Emmins) I know
there are many things, so many people never knew about him, some I will
share with you now, others will remain with me forever. Dad was not the
easiest of people to get along with at times, but he sure was an
individual in his own right. Dad was there for his four children, if any
of us needed to seek his guidance he was there, anytime of the day or
night, even despite his very poor health, he would always be willing to
greet any of his children or grandchildren with a loving smile and a place
to lay your head.
Dad's comforts were small, but he got such a good feeling to be able to
help any of his family. Daughter, sons, grandchildren and great
grandchildren, were all welcome at his home. The saddest thing about Dad's
last years on earth, they were spent hoping and trying to see all of his
family, unfortunately it was not to be. I had an exceptional education
from my old Dad, he showed me so many ways to be able to earn a few quid
if times were hard, how to provide so many things, that we all need from
time to time, he without realizing, taught me my means of earning a
living. So I as the eldest son have so much to be proud of him for, I have
seen Dad laugh, cry and fight his way in life.
Laugh? Well Dad had this incredible dislike of overzealous, authoritative
people, so he being himself, would wind whoever it was up until they
broke, many times I have seen Dad at work in this way. Cry? Yes he would
cry like us all if things got on top of him, but Dad being Dad he would
bounce back almost as quick as he got hurt, he would soon be back up
smiling away. Fight? Well again I have seen this with my own eyes, a few
years ago he had a grocery business, and six fools came into his shop
messing about, but the old man had none of it and sent them all running
with bruises and such, and never again did he have any more silliness from
So as you can see, like I say, I have had such an exceptional education
from him, which is what he would have loved to pass on to his other two
sons, but life being what it is, it just was not going to allow it. The
last seven years I spent virtually living with my Dad, mainly due to his
health fading slowly away, I tried to do what I could for him, but Dad was
stubborn and would say, "Don't worry about me, look out for
Rachel" (my daughter).
As already written by others, the old man affected many people's lives,
people who did not personally know the old man have stopped me and asked
after him (neighbourhood gossips) and others who did know him, the local
fish monger, shopkeepers, travel agent and even the Medicare team who
provided Dad with his means of life for his last two years.
However there is a message to pass on to everyone of us on Dad's behalf,
give up smoking, it really messes you up, take exercise as often as you
can, eat as and when you need, don't pig out on massive amounts every
time. Now I realize Dad you are really missed, were rarely kissed, there
was no other Dad to me, you were simply the best.
I Miss You
Terry and I had but a few years together, they
were good years, with a few days now and then of disagreement. Terry
wanted so much to emigrate to Canada and was trying to do just that, but
the last year of his life was not kind to him, he suffered so much.
Although some of the pain he felt, was from being unable to bring his
family back together again. He put on a brave face, acted as if it just
didn't matter, sometimes putting into words, on his poetry pages, just how
he felt. There is a lot that people can learn from his words, his moods
are sometimes evident in his poetry. Some days were happy ones, some deep,
dark and mysterious. Then there was the pointing of fingers, blaming,
accusing, some poems were trying to get his point across, but the ones I
liked the best were his love poems to me, some of which are published on
his poetry sites.
Terry and I grew up across the street from each other in a small town in
Essex, England. We went our separate ways in our teenage years, married
others, raised our children, but during that time we stayed in touch.
Terry came over to Canada for holidays and visits, then later when we were
both able, we had five or six years together. We traveled, and enjoyed
ourselves, we thought we had more time to do the things that we had talked
about, but unfortunately, that was not to be in this lifetime.
Terry suffered from diabetes for about 40 years, he had the lower part of
one leg removed, then his kidneys failed, it was the beginning of the end,
his eyesight and hearing waned. And with the eyesight going, he was unable
to write his poems, or use the computer even when using the largest of
print. Terry would tell you that smoking, eating incorrectly, not taking
medication properly and not coping well with the kidney dialysis,
contributed to his being in the condition he was at the end. I miss him so
very much and in so many ways.
I miss you, yesterday, today and tomorrow. Vilie.
Terry was my grandfather, but I did not know him
well. I attended his funeral on the 11th of December 2003, and even though
I did not know him, I could not hold back the tears. This is the affect
that my granddad must have had on people during life, and where I am
concerned, in death more so. This affect was so apparent that even my
girlfriend, who had never met or seen Terry, also cried for his departure.
I do wish I had taken the time to know my granddad, especially when, after
the service, I realized he only lived about 10 to 15 miles away, and I
didn't even know it. I feel sorry for myself, as I have never had a
granddad, as my father died before I was born, so all I have now is my
girlfriend's granddad to call mine.
I feel sorry for my mum, Terry's eldest child, as she never really got to
know him either, as he left after she got married, and would never keep in
contact much. I would have hated not to have known my parents, and would
feel incomplete if I didn't know them. The only memories I have of Terry
was when he lived in a caravan on the Chase in Dagenham, but don't
remember it that well, as I was only about 7 years old at the time. I am
now 20 and getting on a bit myself. I am John Jeacock, my granddad's
eldest grandson, but he didn't really know me as one, as I haven't really
known him as a granddad, hence the terms Terry and he, have been used
Anyway, I hope that everyone who visits this site has great fun in reading
my granddad Terry's poems, and may he live on through them, as he would so
much have wanted to.
Happy reading, John.
I have just visited Emmo's page which I last read
a few months ago. I was really saddened to hear of his passing, but feel
privileged to have been able to share some of my thoughts on his page and
indeed have enjoyed reading many of his verses.
May God Bless you Emmo
and keep you in his care.
I love you forever and always.
Your Granddaughter Victoria
From Brad and Cindy
We have only know Terry a few years. He was a great guy. I loved to sit
and listen to anything he had to say . He had a wealth of wisdom that I
couldn't get enough of, and his experiences in life that he told of. His
wit, his compassion for people. He will be surely missed by Cindy and I.
We would like to extend our deepest and most heartfelt sympathies to the
Brad and Cindy Boufford
Tribute From Down Under
Another gifted writer hosts this memorial page, as I met Terry only
through Alan's letters to me describing the day to day doings of his
family. Small wonder then, that I felt I knew Vi and Terry very well.
When I read David's tribute to his dad, I was struck by what he said
toward the end "really missed & rarely kissed." So often our
children think that we have never been in their shoes, but of course we
were all young once. So to all those who mourn Terry, I offer to you these
Because like you once said,
"In those days we were younger."
I remember oh so well those times,
The anger and the hunger.
If I had a gift to give,
To every growing mind,
It would be the joy of love,
The ability to be kind.
That we only learn with time,
So please remember this,
Though you mourn my passing,
Learn from what life and death,
Vale Terry. ( vale is Latin for farewell )
From a Country Store
Terry and Vi came into my store in Springfield, Ontario a couple of years
ago. Right away Terry and I hit it off. We joked and laughed each time he
came for a visit. Terry often offered wee bits of advice, to help me
increase business, and in the ways of stock rotation.
In time Terry started bringing in what he called 'bits and pieces',
samples of his wood working to be sold. We often talked about our mutual
love for words and poetry. I shared mine and he shared his web site. He
was a very talented man. And I am proud to have called him friend.
Terry.. may the next journey be a peaceful one my friend. You are missed.
Charlotte Hart (AKA Momma)
May I dedicate this poem I wrote in the
summer of '89
Edge of Dawn
In silent moments all alone
Where night just edges dawn
I dream of things that used to be
Of moments that are gone.
A sudden sweep within my heart
Soft hurts that touch my soul
A wishing that it could be again
But knowing it has tolled.
This moment held in reverence
This time that comes so oft
Brings memories of Ďonce uponí
To touch the heart so soft.
ĎTis hard to say youíll be no more
And even though youíre gone
Iíll stay here always loving you
Just at the edge of dawn.