Tougher than tough
We called him the weed
When we had enough
He saw no great need

In foreign lands with foreign curses
He pressed on where no one could
Immune to germs and other beasties
Allan thrived as we did wilt
Not a pretty flower
Allan as a weed was built

Today I learnt that Allan passed
Away from this tough world we know
I gladly realise he is planted
in the garden of the Lord
Where the weeds are precious flowers and where troubles are no more

Allan I will sorely miss you
As the toughest bloke I knew
Thank you for your loving kindness
As the man who Loved the Lord.