A Poem for Jerry Nelson (1934-2012)

His voice was rough as sandpaper,
Yet could be smooth as rock,
It went from a gentle whisper
To a screaming laugh or squawk.

He sang all styles of music
And sang them all so well,
Each ballad drifted from his throat
Just like a silver bell.

Yet as these tales in song were sung
With such amazing grace,
We saw so many sides of him,
But never saw his face.

He was a hipster bassman,
He was a little green frog,
He was a Scred who took advice
From the Great and Mighty Favog.

He was a hard-working otter
With a simple Christmas wish,
He was a guy who blew things up,
And another who threw fish.

He was a count who loved numbers
And a wise old heap of trash,
He was a Fraggle named Gobo
And a Skeksis, evil and brash.

He was all these wonderful creatures,
And all of these creatures were him,
We say good-bye and look to the sky,
Where he's up there jamming with Jim.

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