Accrington Observer - - YOUR VIEWS -

WITH the re­cent death of Sir Bruce Forsyth I’ve writ­ten the fol­low­ing poem in trib­ute to him. Darryl Ash­ton Great Har­wood Dur­ing a trip down to Black­pool that I took some decades ago, I hap­pened one evening to visit the pier To view an en­joy­able show. The cast was so lively and tal­ented, too, (Their singing and danc­ing a joy)

But one young per­former stood out from them all; A comical, lithe mov­ing boy. He drew much ap­plause which was well de­served As I quickly checked for his name.

‘He’s called Bruce Forsyth,’ I said to my wife, ‘I’ll bet he’s des­tined for fame.’ Well his­tory turned out to prove I was right

A thou­sand times over and more. An artist supreme and a mas­ter of dance (And clas­sic catch­phrase ga­lore!)

Ex­ud­ing a gen­uine charm and pro­found Re­spect that was to­tally open. There’ll not be another like you, Bru­cie, mate. Now you’re gone the mould has been bro­ken. He graced our TVs on a Satur­day night, On the ‘fam­ily-friendly’ - Gen­er­a­tion game. He also did Strictly, and The Price Is Right - but in the Pal­la­dium, he made his name.

Sir Bruce Forsyth

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