Country Strong

It was his morning feast, a five course meal,
Of toast and beans, the whole ordeal
It was his grey knit sweaters, and baseball hats,
The staple wal-mart jeans, and slippers to match
It was the wink, that sparkle in his eye,
Like clockwork, every time a woman walked by,
It was his morning singing, his wake-up call,
The way no glass of wine was ever too small
It was his sense of humor and his dirty jokes,
The only senior I knew to ever bum a smoke,
It was his love of home, and his best friend chance,
Somehow he arranged a private belly dance,
It was the clothes and the laundry full of tissue,
With those searching hands, always an issue,
It was his yard-sale shopping, and vacuum collection,
The way his hair was always cut and combed to perfection,
It was that kid inside of him, that impish grin,
Games of cribbage that nobody else had a chance to win,
He was the last ten years of my life, and all of the above,
So here’s to Cribbmaster, Superman, and Gpa with love.