A generations hero (in memeory of Sir Bruce Forsythe)

He was king of a generation game
Bearing a title of a house-hold name
The voice of ‘Good game’ Good game’
Slightly eccentric; but completely sane

His humour held tongues in their cheek
A host in our lives almost every week
If made of wood he’d be a fine antique
With a touch of class and also quite chic

He played his cards right unto the end
The words he spoke would never offend
A house-wives choice of a man to befriend
I say from my heart a man to commend

So away on a conveyor belt up to the sky
Even the angels who carry him will cry
I’m sure he’s an apple in many an eye
Farewell Mr Forsyth a saddened goodbye