Poet Terry's real name was Terry Emmins.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 Terry web site.

Well Dad

Well here you go it’s number two son,
You know the one,
The pain in the bum,
Lee. Yeah that’s 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 wouldn’t give in.

Near seven years have almost gone,
For me to think that I’ve 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,
Lee xxx

My Dad

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 them yobs.

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.

David

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.

My Grandfather

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 quite often.

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.

From Kate

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.

Love Kate

Granddad

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 family.

Best Regards,

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 thoughts.

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,
Can teach..

Vale Terry. ( vale is Latin for farewell )

Margaret

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. HUGS!

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 ‘once upon’
To touch the heart so soft.

‘Tis hard to say you’ll be no more
And even though you’re gone
I’ll stay here always loving you
Just at the edge of dawn.

Bob Dunn

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